#colouring on that shit with crayons for no reason

[daftpatience]

idk how the cute room girlies do it im always beating my desk within an inch of its life

[ohtobeleah]

I just know Felix is going to cause a scene when she wakes up. But I’m ready, I can take it.

I was a little busier this week but I’m so glad it’s Saturday and I get to share this with you all. S always, here the Terms of Endearment Masterlist.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” There’s no rhyme or reason for what could have possibly just escaped Bradley Bradshaws mouth. Not only was the idea crazy, but what scared you more than anything was that you knew you had heard the mustache clad, Hawaiian shirt wearing, deep brown eye having ass Naval Aviator correctly. 

“You heard me.” Your daughter, Dot, was perched up on Bradley’s lap at the bar. Penny had given her some colouring pages and a bucket of crayons to entertain her while you enjoyed two for one night at the Hard Deck with Bradley. “Is it so hard to believe?” She liked Bradley, for whatever reason—she immediately gravitated towards him as you got to know him. 

“What’s hard to believe, Bradshaw, is that you’d want anything to do with me at all.” You remarked as you cut through your steak. Medium rare. You shook your head softly at the idea, God it would be such a bad idea to get involved with anyone now. “I’m not looking for a relationship.” You told him through doe eyes and a meek smile before you placed the cut piece of steak in your mouth. “I've just gotten out of a long term thing and I don’t even have my shit sorted here properly, and you’re asking me? Of all people! Out on a date?” 

Bradley, with all his good graces and his ability to fall head over heels in love immediately, looked down at your daughter, changed up the coloured crayon she was currently colouring with, he thought the grass should be green—not red, and smiled as he turned back to you, sitting beside him, like you had for the past five days after work at the Hard Deck. 

“I think you should take a leap and give me one chance to take you out.” 

“I think you’re delusional from all those G forces you’ve been pulling.” You met his smirk, squinting at each other as Dot squealed when Bradley tickled her sides to show her he was still actively engaged with her current enrichment activity. 

“Did you hear that? I think Dot here just said you should let me take you to dinner.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at how ridiculous Bradley Bradshaw looked, why he was trying it on with you you’d never truly understand. Scooping up some mashed potatoes, you held it out for Dot to take a mouthful. 

“Dot has a speech impediment and can’t even say your callsign properly.” You called Rooster out on his bullshit. “I don’t need you using my daughter to get in my pants, chicken man—“ 

“Chicken man?” It was hard to stop yourself from laughing as Rooster beamed at you with wide, all encompassing eyes. “That was a low ball.” You just pressed your lips together and tilted your chin up, proud of yourself. “And for the record, I’m not just trying to get in your pants.” 

“What are you playing then?” Bradley had been infatuated with you since the moment you opened Jake Seresins door a few weeks ago, only now you were friendly with one another, to know fault of your own. Rooster had seemingly made it his new life mission to mesmerise you, put a spell on you, he’d been on this dinner crap for two entire weeks now and there seemed to be no end in sight. He had convinced himself he had fallen in love with you—poor guy. 

“Let me take you out to dinner and I’ll be happy to give you an answer.” You could feel the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks as you placed your knife and fork down, wiped your mouth with the crummy napkin, and swivelled on your chair to face Bradley properly. 

“Bradshaw, trust me when I tell you I am the last person you want to get involved with.” You sighed, keeping Bradley’s gaze as he matched your energy and swirled his legs out from under the bar, bumping yours as Dot reached out to you with grabby hands—she was done with her colouring and just wanted her mum. “I'm damaged goods, I don’t play well with others, I’m a single mothers, you hardly know me and I’m living in my brother's spare bedroom—what about me screams love of your life?” 

Rooster didn’t answer right away. He simply eyed you off as you snuggled your cheek against Odettes as she cuddled into you. Giggling as she grinned ear to ear. Yep. He wanted you, all of you—and your little girl too. 

“Hard work is good for the soul.” Was all Bradley replied with as he finished his beer, noticing the sippy cup of juice you’d ordered Dot was empty. “And something tells me you’d be worth the grueling effort, Miss Fix It.” You couldn’t compute what you’d just heard, couldn’t comprehend that Bradley Bradshaw was still proposing the rhetoric that you were worth any sort of effort from anyone. “Barkeep, I’ll get another drink for Fe here and another juice for her mini me—“ Rooster fished his wallet out from his back pocket as he stood, placing a hand on the small of your back as he manoeuvred himself behind you. “Start a tab for the juices.” 

“No, Penny, don't do that.” You shook your head. “I can pay for my daughter’s drinks, mine too.” Bradley kept his eyes trained on Penny as she held her hands up in defeat, knowing that Rooster would just tell her at a later date that he’d put a credit down. “You’re a menace Bradshaw.” 

“And you’re gonna fall in love with me Y/l/n.” Bradley smirked, winking as he tilted your chin his way with his finger. “Only a matter of time—“ 

“Yeah, sure—in your wet dreams, Flyboy.” You taunted as Rooster stood so close you felt all encompassed by the scent of his cologne. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, challenging your taunt and raising you his own. 

“Trust me mama, with the amount of jacking off I've been doing these days with you around? I’m losing valuable inches.” Your jaw would have hit the floor if Bradley hadn’t had his finger there, holding your head still as he leaned in over you. Closing the gap slowly, you didn’t seem to want to do anything to stop him. Because you didn’t want this to stop, despite how unavailable you really were:

“I’m gonna tell Jake you’re sexualising me, perhaps then I can get some peace and quiet around here.” 

“You love it.” 

“Debatable.” 

“I’m gonna kiss you now—“ 

“Wait What?” Before you could even fathom what Bradley was doing, his lips were on yours. Softly and ever so gently, he pressed his supple lips to yours in a moment of balls and madness. If Jake walked in any second now Bradley knew he was a deadman. But he couldn’t help it—he just needed to feel your lips on his just once. 

Rooster wasn’t expecting the kiss to last, he just thought he’d try and cop a sneaky peck. But when you snaked a hand around to the back of his head to keep him drawn close and against your lips? Bradley felt his entire world shift. He was down bad. 

“Tooster!” Dot babbled in your lap as she brought her little hands up to push against Bradley cheek, forcing him to break the kiss and pull back. “No kiss my mamma! Ownly I kiss my mamma—“ Bradley widened his eyes in pure shock as you brought a hand up to cover your mouth and laughed at the absolute scolding your two year old had given Bradley. His cheeks were bright crimson as he tried to find the right words to say to your daughter. 

“Can’t we share?” Bradley settled for that as he crouched a little to meet Dot's height in your lap as he gave you a much needed moment to compose yourself after your moment of weakness. Knowing you really couldn’t do this, not because you didn’t want to or didn’t like Bradley, but because you simply weren’t good enough for someone as kind and as beautiful as him. “My mama always said sharing was caring?” 

“No, she’s my mamma.” Dot stated a matter of factly before Penny was dropping your drinks off at the bar. 

“The two year old has spoken, Tooster.” You giggled. “I’m flattered by your persistence, really I am—“ You took a deep breath in and sighed. “But like I said, I'm damaged goods and you deserve better than broken.” 

“My mother would turn in her grave if I didn’t see this through.” Bradley explained, knowing he was going to have to work for you so much harder than he’d ever worked for anyone ever. But you were every bit of it worth the time, the patience, the effort, everything. “I’m gonna win you over Y/n, just you watch.” Rooster left it at that, turning on his heels to go suss out the game of darts Coyote and Fanboy had started up. 

“Oh, eyes peeled Bradshaw, I’ll be watching.” You shouted at him as he waved you off politely. Sending you a wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. “In a million years, huh baby?” You cooed as you turned your attention back to Dot in your lap, her back against your chest. “Thanks for having my back, wingwoman.” 

“I’m gonna pretend like I didn't see that happen.” Jake groaned in your ear as he came up behind you, thumbing the back of your head with the palm of his hand. 

“Ow!!” You hissed, watching as Jake came to sit beside you in the barstool Bradley had only just moments ago vacated. “He kissed me, thump him!” 

***~****~****~*****~****~****~

There wasn’t an awful lot of noise that inherently pulled you from your drugged up haze, but the steady rhythm of a heart rate monitor and the incredibly loud sound of Jake Seresin snoring has your frowning before your eyelids even peel away from one another. 

“Jake—“ You grumbled, you couldn’t move your jaw. What the hell? “Wh—“ Reaching up to touch your lips, you tried to open your mouth again. Only this time you let out a whimper when you tried a little too hard, feeling wire strain and stretch as tears flooded your eyes. “Ow—“ 

Your face felt incredibly puffy to the touch. Swollen skin that mimicked the colours of a rainbow throbbed painfully under the tentative touch of the pads of your fingertips. You could see, barely—but you saw enough to recognise that you were in a hospital. 

As you tried to push yourself up on your elbows a little more to get a better look again, you hissed out a jaw clenching groan when a sharp pain radiated across your upper torso. Clutching at the painful area under the hospital gown you found yourself in. You felt prickly stitches. Fuck. 

At the sudden juxtaposition of your painful cries, Bradley shot up from the place he’d fallen asleep beside you in. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out for. But when he sat up, a drool patch remained on the side of your bed his cheek had been pressed into. 

“Y/n—“ Bradley cooed, still groggy from his impromptu nap as he rubbed his eyes and slid as close to you as he possibly could in the chair he hadn’t left. “Dot’s okay, he didn’t hurt her baby, Jake was on it pretty quickly.” Bradley knew the first thing that you were going to ask about was your daughter. As he reached to push your hair up and away from your forehead, Bradley smiled at you as he stood, leaning haphazardly over you. “Please don’t try to talk too much alright? You broke your jaw, it’s wired closed for now but if you need to—move your lips, talk through your teeth.” 

You simply nodded quietly in responses still frowning as Braldey took in the sight of you. His heart had never been filled with so much emotion before. He was forever grateful that you were alive, that you were such a fighter, but his heart was crying at the same time because to see you like this would bring any man to his knees. 

“I love you so much you know that right?” He choked out, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth for a second to stop himself from crying. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry in front of you—not when you needed reliability and strength in numbers. He needed to be a pillar of unconditional strength and support. “You are the strongest, most fierce woman I have ever met and you have no idea what an incredible honour it is to be able to call you my girl.” 

“Everything hurts.” You spoke softly and with caution as you tested the waters. “And my lips are really dry.” Bradley couldn’t help but to chuckle as he reached for the tube of lip balm on the side table. Squeezing some onto the pad of his index finger before applying a thin, glossy layer ever so attentively. 

“Better?” He cooed. 

“Much.” You replied. Allowing a moment of silence to fall between you as Bradley sat back down in his chair. Sighing as he turned his head to where Jake still sat sleeping in a heap. “Jake asleep?” 

“Yeah—the guy passed out when he found out what happened.” Bradley explained and your heart melted. “He really does love you.” 

“I know.” You sighed, you knew how lucky you were to have Jake in your life. You’d always known that. “He’s a good guy, I don’t think I give him enough credit for everything he’s done for me.” You couldn’t help but to get a little choked up. “But I don’t think I give you enough credit either, chicken man.” 

“Oh woah—“ Braldey chuckled as he pulled the back of your hand up to his lips, kissing you a couple of times as he smiled against your hand. “I haven’t heard that one in a while, Miss Fix It.” 

Again there was a moment of peaceful silence shared. Only until Bradley thought it was an appropriate time as ever to let you know what was going on. 

“Jaidyn’s in custody.” Was all Bradley said as you took all of what that could have meant in. “Dots at Paybacks play but we talked it over and decided that when you woke up Jake was gonna go get her and take her back to his place.” The explanation had a fatal flaw, why couldn’t Jake just bring Dot here? “He just wanted to see you awake first.” 

“Can he bring her here?” There was a pause you didn’t like as you looked at Bradley and the way his face remained stoic and frozen, like he was scared to death to say what he had to next. “Rooster, Jake can bring Dot here, can’t he?” Again, there was no response when you asked to see your daughter. Not because Bradley was trying to panic you—he just couldn’t get the words out. “Answer me.” 

“We don't think it’s best if she sees you like this.” Nothing could have broken you more. “We think that if she saw you like this, then she’d be traumatised Fe.” 

“Who’s we in this decision?” You were physically starting to get upset, Bradley could see it from a mile away. “Rooster who the fuck is we!?” 

Jake Seresin had woken up around the time Bradley was glossing your lips up with his tube of carmex. But he’d chosen to give the two of you a minute to just be. He pretended to still be asleep, perhaps that wasn’t such a great idea after all. So when he was groaning out a stretch to cut the rising tension in the room. you turned your head to face him. 

“We, is me—“ Jake sighed as he stood, padding over to your bedside with a solemn expression. He hated seeing you like this. “Fe I love you, and you have no idea what I’d do to protect you, but Dot can’t see you like this, you look like you just went a few rounds with Rocky Balboa.” 

“Jake—“ You tried reason with him, except all Jake did was lean over, kiss your forehead softly and ever so gently, before giving you a look that spoke louder than any reason, any excuse he could speak into words. 

“I’m sorry I let you down.” He whispered just above a whisper. “But I've got a chance to make sure I don’t let Dot down too, she can’t see you like this Y/n.” 

“You don’t get to make that decision for me.” It was clear to everyone in the room that you were spinning off into a tailspin. “I am her mother! You have no say.” Through a painful groan, you sat up. Unbeknownst to you as you allowed your emotions to overwhelm you, Bradley was hitting the little nurse’s button to alert the nurses at the nurses station that you needed assistance and needed it fast. “You don’t get to do this to me, please don’t keep her from me.” 

“I do.” Jake knew if anyone had to deal out the tough love it had to be him. There was no way Odette deserved to see her mother like this. You didn’t deserve to have to subject her to that. A few days, that’s all you’d need. Allow the swelling to go down, the colour to fade a little. “You might not like it but I do get to make that decision for you and I have, because I know you know deep down I’m right.” 

“Jake, I swear if you don’t go get my daughter and bring her to me right now.” You were moving around an awful lot for someone who’d just woken up after having an entire organ removed from your body. “I’m serious!” Not that you knew that at this point. 

“Y/n, you gotta stop moving around, please lie back down.” Bradley was trying his hardest to be the voice of reason as he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder—he just wanted to die when you shuttered under his touch. A momentary lapse in judgement had him forgetting about just how battered and bruised you were underneath your hospital gown. “Shit, I’m sorry Fe—“ 

“Please just let me see my daughter.” Both Jake and Bradley hated the fact they had to deny you that right, to see your own child. “She’s my baby, I need to see her.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed as you pleaded with Jake, you were losing control of any level headedness you had. “Jake—“ 

“I can’t Fe—“ Jake explained as Bradley saw one of the nurses step into your room. “It really wouldn’t be good for her to see you like this.” 

“Ah, I see someone’s awake!” She beamed. “How are you feeling, Miss Y/l/n?” She smiled, sensing the tension in the room and the worry in both Jake and Bradley’s eyes as they both turned to address her. “I must say I’m a little surprised to see you sitting up like this, how about we get you back in bed to rest up while we go over some or your charts post op?” 

“I don’t care about any of this, I just need to see my daughter.” You were tunnelling violently into haze, nothing was more important to you than Odette. Not even your own health and wellbeing. “I don’t care.” You wailed, trying but failing to tear your mouth open. “I don’t need these stupid monitors and I don’t need you telling me what to do and I certainly don’t need you making parental decisions on my behalf!” You were still addressing Jake who’d stepped back slightly when you flung your legs over the side of the bed, pointing a finger his way. “Go and get her!” 

“Darlin—“ Bradley knew he had to intervene before this got out of hand. “It’s not just Jake who thinks it’s for the best.” He tried to sound as calming as he could. “You wouldn’t want her to see you like this, and we’re not trying to control you, we’re just looking out for Dot.” 

When you turned your head to look at Bradley, he saw nothing but rage. He never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look again. 

“Keeping my daughter away from me, her mother! Means you are just as malicious as him!” You spat, not thinking about what it was you were actually saying or why Jake and Bradley were doing what they were doing. It was at the point when you tried to stand, that the nurse who’d answered Bradley’s button press shifted into action. 

“Oh dear—“

“He wanted to take her away from me and that's exactly what you’re doing!?” I trusted you!” You were inconsolable as tears streamed down your puffy cheeks. “I TRUSTED YOU!” As you ripped out the cannula in your forearm Jake had to intervene, he couldn’t watch this go on any longer as Bradley just stood there on the opposite side of the bed in complete shock at your hysteria. “Let me see my daughter! Don’t take her away from me!” You were just speaking into a void as Jake wrapped his arms around your tightly, holding you still as you thrashed and twisted and turned. “Don’t take her away from me, please—!” 

“Y/n, you gotta stop moving—“ Jake pleaded with you as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Stop!” 

“Let go of me you self righteous piece of shit!” You screamed. “I can’t believe you, how could you do this to me!? SHE'S MY DAUGHTER! And IM HER FUCKING MOTHER!!” It all sounded a little odd because you were screaming through your teeth, groning as the pain threatened to take over you. But you fought it, kept screaming, kept spewing empty insults Jake's way. Jake and Bradley could hear you all the same though, regardless of your jaw, they could hear you, understand you—It all hurt the same.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself—“ Jake spoke as softly as he could as his own rage began to bubble to the surface. 

“I hate you!” It stung to hear. “I fucking hate you—!” 

“Stick and stones Fe, Sticks and stones.” Jake didn’t want to front that you’d struck a raw nerve. Your vicious words played on Jake's mind like an exposed nerve ending. 

“She needs to be sedated before she ruptures her sutures.” The nurse explained as she jabbed you with a pretty large amount of sedative that took effect in a few seconds as it coursed through your body. “She shouldn’t be moving around this much right after major surgery.” 

“She’s my daughter—“ You cried. Feeling an overwhelming numbness’s starting to overcome you. Coaxing you closer and closer into the black tunnel vision void. “My baby—“ Jake felt you start to go limp in his embrace, he’d give you credit where credit was due. You were fighting the sedative hard. “Don’t take her away from me.” 

“We aren’t Y/n, we’d never.” Jake cooed as you finally fell victim to the sedative.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Bradley exhaled as he turned on his heels and ran his hands through his sandy blonde locks. “Holy shit, what the fuck was even that—“ It broke Bradley’s heart to see you like this, so broken and scared and all out of sorts. The only thing that reassured him that he was doing the right thing was the fact that if he could barely handle seeing you like this, there’s no way Dot wouldn’t see your beat up self in her nightmares. “She’s a wreck.” 

“I’ll have to let the change over staff know what happened, I’ll pop it in her chart that she's been a little difficult and needed a sedative.” Jake was quite happy to help the nurse, who’d later introduce herself as Cindy—but Jake and Braldey already gathered that information by her nursing tag, back into bed. “I don’t think that she needs anymore unpleasant opinions thrust upon her while she’s recovering.” 

“There aren't many ways to sugarcoat the fact it’s in her daughter’s best interest to not see her this way.” Bradley explained. 

“Are you the father?” Cindy asked as she fixed up the thin blanket over your torso, deciding she’d need to set up a whole new cannula sight. Bradley just held his breath. 

“No ma’am—“

“Then I’d think carefully about the language you use in situations like this, you might be doing what’s right but try and put yourself in Miss Y/l/n’s shoes.” Nurse Cindy sighed as Jake yawned and rubbed a tired hand over his face, the sun was only just now starting to rise. Odette had been at the Fitch's all night. “She’s clearly been through hell, keeping her separated from her daughter may do more damage in the long run than good, for her at least.” Cindy shrugged, Bradley just nodded silently in agreement—he felt awful after having just witnessed you lash out in utter desperation. Female rage was no joke. “I’m gonna sort her out, perhaps you’d like to take five? Ten minutes to grab yourselves a bite to eat? A coffee perhaps?”

It was Cindy’s kind way of asking Jake and Bradley to give her some space to fix you up and do her job. Bradley, with trepidations lacing every thought he had—eventually agreed. 

“I should probably go get Dot.” Jake mentioned, every minute that passed was a minute longer she had spent in fear of what was going on around her. “I’ll take her home, get her sorted and maybe we’ll do some sort of zoom call or something?” He added, walking hesitantly towards the door with Rooster. Both men were so overly exhausted both mentally, emotionally and physically to the point where you really wouldn’t have been able to blame either of them if they turned their backs now. 

“I still think it’s a bad idea but hey, we’re just as bad as that dickhead for protecting her kid from PTSD.” Jake had an attitude problem, that was no secret. He’d been good over the last few months but with a mix of exhaustion and overwhelming anger, he couldn’t not help but to let out a little attitude. “But hey, mother knows best, right.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Should you be drinking this early?” By the time Jake pulled up to the Fitch household, it was nearing six thirty in the morning. “That’s like, almost something you feel like I should be concerned about?” Jake questioned as he shut the car door in the driveway. The first thing he saw when he pulled up was Amilia, enjoying a beverage in the early hours of the morning. Soaking up the sound of birds singing and the sun rising. Unbeknownst to Jake though Amilia hadn’t actually gone to bed. 

“Eh, I tend to stay awake at night because I don’t even know what my favourite colour is and I’m fucking terrified that I don’t have a real personality.” Amilia remarked as she laid perched up on the patio swing. “Haven’t actually gone to bed.” A two seated she’d made a one seater by propping her let’s up across the spare cushions. “And I’m not starting, I just never stopped, I dropped Bob off last night I just thought fuck it—it’s been a long enough day, why not make it a little longer.” Jake just huffed as he made his way up the porch. 

“In my opinion, drinking at six thirty in the morning isn’t normal—“ Jake stood before Amilia, looking down at her with his hands in his pockets, a tired, sunken expression on his face, and a whole lot of worry in his heart for you. “Alcohol isn’t a problem solver.” 

“At the risk of sounding flippant Lieutenant, opinions are exactly like assholes.” Amilia hadn’t even opened her eyes as she took the beer bottle to her lips and finished off the amber liquid, tilting her head as far back as her neck would allow her to move. “Everyone’s got one.” She finally opened her eyes and turned all her attention to Jake as she sat up, allowing him to take a seat next to her as she sighed and let her elbows rest on her knees. “I’ve got a job interview tomorrow at some bar Reuben got me hooked up with.” Amilia explained. “I was just sampling all your American alcoholic beverages.” 

“What’s the verdict?” Jake asked softly, he was hoping Amilia would have some sort of comeback for him. 

“They’re weak as piss, mate.” Jake snorted as he let himself rest against the back of the swinging chair. Amilia sat back too, pulling her legs up to cross over themselves. “She alright?” There was a lingering pause between Amilia and Jake before he decided to answer. He was done. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. All Jake did was turn his head, he looked at Amilia for a few seconds before the dam broke. “Fuck, Jake—c’mere.” He did. Jake allowed himself just a moment of weakness as he let his tears fall freely as he moved into Amilias open arms. Just needing someone to tell him he was doing this right. 

Jake had never cried in the arms of a stranger before. But when Jake let his cheek rest against Amilia Fisher's chest, feeling her stroke his back and card her fingers through his hair. 

Jake felt home. 

“I can’t deal with that.” Jake cried. He hated being the bad guy in your eyes. “All I do is put her first and what? She calls us malicious?” Jake Seresin felt like a child, crying in the arms of a woman he hardly knew because his feelings were hurt. But he’d be damned if what you’d said didn’t hurt. 

“What happened?” Amilia asked softly as she just sat with Jake, allowing him to lay across her lap as she played with his hair. He was so fucking tired.

“I told her I wouldn't be bringing Odette to the hospital for a few days.” He explained with a sigh, revealing  in the feeling of Amilia combing through his hair. Looking up at her through teary eyes. “No two year old needs to see their mum in the state she is currently.” 

“Hmmm—“ Amilia pressed her lips together into a line and nodded, agreeing with Jake. “Why’d you nominate yourself as the villain?” 

“Because I didn’t want Rooster taking the brunt of that.” Jake groaned, covering his flushed and teary face as he took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. “He doesn’t deserve that, if I know Y/n—which I fucking do, she’d push him away and they need each other.” Amilia just listened, she listened to Jake pour his heart out about how much he hated being the one behind your anger, he hated being the one who said you couldn’t see your daughter right now, but he’d rather be the one you blamed for all your misery and all your displare than have you put the blame on Bradley. “She told him she trusted him like he’d broken it or something, I just hope that the next time she wakes up she doesn’t say something she’ll regret in the long run.” Jake paused as he took a moment to look up at Amilia, just drinking in the sight of her, god she was fucking beautiful. “She needs Rooster just as much as he needs her and I can’t let that asshat of an ex ruin that for her.” 

“Woah, what in the world is going on out here huh?” Payback cooed as he opened the front door. He was gonna ask about what the hell was going on between Jake and his sister in law but that was a conversation for a later day. What mattered right now was getting Dot back where she belonged. “Is that uncle Jakey?” Jake sat up at the mention of his name with a groan, seeing the beautiful little girl that was Dot holding out her arms for him to take her. “You gonna tell uncle Jake how good you’ve been?”

“I been so good.” Odette mumbled softly as Jake took him in his strong arms, sitting her on his lap before she bawled her fists and rubbed at her tired eyes. “Where’s mamma?” 

“She’s okay baby, just needs a few days to herself. She had to get her spleen removed and she’s all tired and isn’t very fun to be around right now.” Jake tried to explain it the best he could without upsetting Dot. “But while mama rests and recovers, you get to hang out with me and Rooster and boy do I love when I get to hang out with you.” 

“What’s a spween?” Dot asked softly as Jake held his niece close to his chest, kissing the top of her head as he smiled against her hair. 

“An organ, it sits right here—“ He pressed his fingertip into Dot's side and she giggled. “Mamma didn’t need hers anymore so the doctor took it out of her before it could make her sick.” 

“And I get to hang out wif Tooster too?” 

“Mmhmm, he’s with mama now but what we’re gonna do when we get home is start packing some of your things up because when Mama comes home you guys are gonna go live with Tooster at his place.” 

“Oh shit for real?” Payback raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood watching the sun rise with Amilia, Jake and Odette. “That’s huge.” 

“In the grand scheme of everything else that’s happened in the past twenty four hours I highly doubt that’s what you're shocked at.” Amilia scoffed as she stood from the swinging chair. She paused as she crouched to boop Dot on the nose. “See you cheeky girl when I’m looking at ya.” Dot smiled back before she popped one of her thumbs in her mouth, an anxious tick she’d started to develop. “See ya Jake.” Amilia turned her attention to Jake as she smiled. Leaning in to kiss his still tear stained cheek. “I’m still pretty keen on Preston’s, just text me when things cool down for you.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Amilia was about to tell Jake off for calling her ma’am again, but she accepted it as a terms of endearment and left it at that. 

“You know you have a job interview with Penny at one right?” Payback looked at his phone, showing Amilia the date that was clearly displayed on the Home Screen. 

“I thought today was yesterday still, fuck!” She groaned. “Everythings fucking stupid here, your booze, your road rules, your stupid politics, it all makes no sense—“ Amilia stormed into Paybacks place and all he did was laugh, turning back to Jake who just sat there in the front porch with Dot in his lap. Rocking gently to keep her calm. 

“Hey man, my doors always open if you need someone to talk to, you gotta offload some pressure.” Reuben was a good friend, he always had everyone’s back. Jake really did appreciate the offer. 

“I think I’m gonna lose my best friend in all this mess man.” Jake held back more tears, like fuck was he about to cry in front of Odette. Biting his bottom lip as he took a deep breath, Jake sighed. “Some way he’s gonna take her, even if it is just emotionally, she’s gonna take it out on me and I’ll have no choice but to take it on the chin because I’d rather lose her and have her be alive than to lose her all together.” 

“You’re doing everything you can Hangman, don’t forget that.” Payback knew whatever had happened between you and Jake had been enough to have him second guessing his entire role in your life. But he’d let it play out a little longer before running any sort of intervention. 

“I wanna go home now—“ Dot mumbled against Jake's chest. He kissed her temple and agreed knowing that home was the best place for her to be right now. 

“Let’s go home bubba, let’s go home.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @feltonswifesworld87 @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb

[ravenmichaelisstuff]

"Better late than never" part 9

  COLORING BOOK

Since Soap learned how to make Ghost’s tea, a cup of it waited for him every morning right next to Johnny's coffee- prompting the lieutenant to sit next to the Scot. Ghost didn’t really need any prompting, Ghost’s place was always right next to Soap after he saved him that place on the plane.

Although today there was something extra next to his mug when he sat in the mess hall. 

“What’s that?” Ghost gestured at the item.

“‘Hello, Soap.’ Hi Lt! ‘Thanks for the tea Soap.’ No problem Sir.” The sergeant said to himself, looking disappointed at the taller man. Ghost just blinked at Soap, unamused. Soap rolled his eyes. “Just something for you to do while I am gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will be showing our future demolition experts how to properly blow up some old buildings a little farther away from the base. I will be back for supper.” The Scot was visibly excited, rubbing his hands together, already thinking about all the things he will set ablaze that day.

“Why without me?” Everyone knew that they were attached at the hip, even if the lieutenant would rather eat a bullet than admit that. They were always sent on missions as a team, they worked great together. They even trained rookies together since if Ghost were to do it alone the poor bastards would be dead by the end of it. Soap had a way more friendly demeanour. Recruits not only liked the sergeant but he had this special ability to encourage them to do better- not for him but for themselves.

 Ghost knew that Soap is a better leader, better than he himself will ever be. Johnny was charismatic and kind, always putting everyone else before himself. And Soap was so fucking smart, it brought Ghost physical pain to see him dumb it down for the entertainment of others. People would follow after Soap in battle, Ghost would and honestly he hopes that he will survive to see the day Johnny gets to be a captain. Because he fucking deserves it.

But that’s not the point right now- why today they got separated?

“From what ah’ know you are no expert on explosives so there is no reason for ye to tag along. Gaz will be joining me, and as a lieutenant, you have better things to do, don’t ye?” 

Ghost frowned under the balaclava, he didn’t like leaving Soap alone and being left alone on base- or more like he didn’t like not having the Scot by his side. Ghost can pretend to be annoyed with Soap, but he is aware that the man makes his days a little bit more tolerable.

“Ah, Lt… you make a face lik’ ye actually gonna miss me.” Soap laughed.

“Piss off, you can’t see my face.” But MacTavish was right, he will miss him- even if only for a few hours.

“Ye are easier to read than you think Simon.” Soap looked him in the eyes, smiling softly. “I gotta go or Price will kill me for delaying shit again.” He got up and patted Ghost’s shoulder.

“Don’t teach them to make makeshift nukes in their’s room.”

“When it’s all the fun!” Shouted Soap, disappearing behind the exit doors. Ghost couldn’t stop a chuckle from coming out under his balaclava.

Ghost was going to take his tea to his room since without Johnny there was no point in sitting in a crowded space, but his attention came back to the mysterious objects. He grabbed the first one, which was a small tin box filled with coloured pencils- way nicer that the crayons they used once for doodling. The pencils weren’t in the usual vibrant rainbow colours but in nicely toned down, darker ones. Every single pencil was engraved with gold writing ‘Prismacolor’, Ghost never saw pencils like that. His knowledge of art supplies was very limited. All he knew was that the HB pencil is the best only because Johnny said so.

The second thing turned out to be a colouring book, but not just any colouring book. With Soap there was no normal. The front page of it read ‘Fuck off! I am colouring’ which was honestly amusing to Ghost. He thumbed through the pages, only briefly looking at the designs. They were all filled with swear words.

Soap expected Ghost to colour it, but he was sure that the thing will be probably lying somewhere in his room, untouched. Kept only because he got it from Johnny. 

Ghost didn’t even get to take his tea to his room when his phone lit up. He got a message from Price

 ‘My office. NOW.’

The Brit groaned and walked to his Captain’s office, colouring book and pencils stuffed in his pocket.

***

Ghost had enough of that day, the world seemed to hate him.

First, when he entered Price’s office he was met with an apologetic look from the older man. They weren’t alone in the room, a middle-aged woman introduced herself and said she was a major. She looked very pissed. She showed them some papers with numbers that Ghost didn’t understand, telling him that there is too many KIAs on the missions he leads. That he should be better because that is what they expected.

No one had in mind that Ghost was usually being sent on a literal mission impossible like he was some kind of sorcerer that could make a shit intel about very dangerous ‘whatever’ work only because he is the Ghost. People expected him to perform miracles, but in the end, he was the one collecting dog tags from the fallen soldiers. It wasn’t even like he didn’t blame himself- because he did. He blamed himself for ever agreeing to lead the mission, to ever allow it to happen. Sometimes he felt like the shit intel wasn’t at fault- maybe he really could make better decisions?

Price couldn’t stand the woman any longer and he very nicely told her that they have some important things to discuss. The woman left, saying that she will be back if the numbers don’t go down.

“People are not a statistic you can change, son. Don’t pay attention to the old hag.“ Price tried to sympathize.

 It didn’t make Ghost feel any better about himself, he just stood in the middle of the office waiting for Price to dismiss him. The man signed.

“I will make sure not to take tasks from her ever again. You can go.”

Ghost never left that room so fast. He felt like shit.

Then his hands were trembling for the rest of the day. He wanted to clean some of his guns but he couldn’t do it so he went to his room thinking he could catch up with his paperwork. But it only made it worse since he had to write reports from those forsaken failed missions. He caught himself wishing Johnny was there to help him, to just speak endlessly about his day so Ghost can listen and forget for a while about everything else.

Ghost looked forward to the dinner.

***

As soon as it was past 6 pm Ghost started to worry, because Soap didn’t yet barge in blabbering about all the explosives he got to detonate today. Ghost knew that the sergeant knew what he was doing, but he didn’t know all the rookies and their abilities. He pushed that filling away and went to the mess hall thinking that maybe Soap was simply hungry after the course and stopped there to eat something.

But he wasn’t there. The training must have just extended in time.

Ghost grabbed himself a meal and sat at an empty table hoping that the Scot will finally show up. While he was at it something fell out of his pocket- the colouring book. He picked it up.

Fuck it

He also put the pencils on the table. Ghost went through the pages in search for something interesting. He picked one with ‘Ask your doctor if shutting the fuck up is right for you.’ in the middle- it made him smirk.

He picked a pencil and started filling out the design. He was surprised to get really into it. He was extremely focused on not going over the lines, filling the space in the colour pattern he choose. The pencils were extremely smooth and glided on paper with no problem allowing him to blend the colours with no problem when he realized that he can. No one will stop him and tell him to fill out one area only with a single colour. At some point his hands stopped trembling, Soap calmed him down even from far way.

***

When Soap came back buzzing with all the good feelings blowing stuff brought him, he didn’t expect to see what he did. Even if he was late for supper with Gaz, Ghost was still sitting there hunched over the damn colouring book he got him. He was completely engrossed in it- John smiled. What made him even more satisfied were the looks Ghost received from everyone around him.

The soldiers remaining in the mess hall looked flabbergasted, Even Gaz who stood next to him looked mildly surprised to see the big ol’ Ghost so focused on colouring.

“I told ye getting him the good pencils will be worth it.” Soap crossed his arms and looked at Garrick.

Kyle shook his head with a chuckle. “You would get him the expensive ones even if he were to throw them away. Which he wouldn’t.”

“Yeah… I would.”

Gaz ruffled Soap’s hair. “You are a whipped, man.”

And yeah, there was no point in denying it.

I struggled at the start but when I got into it it was really nice to write. I am a little worried that I am focusing on stuff not relevant to the prompt but it really helps me build the story. I hope you all like it and I love to read your thoughts <3 PROMPT BY @/Riolee on Ao3 and expanded by @u5an5

Part 1

[demons2003]

My Boys (Chapter 62)

Series List

Y/n's pov

Everything after Max was a blur. Steve somehow got us all in the car and drove us back to Nancy's. We made sure all the kids were good and then Steve and I were cuddled up on the arm chair. We talked for a little bit, trying to get a hold of everyone in California in case they had any ideas and waited for Nancy and Robin to get back. When they were back, we filled them in on what happened with Max and they let us know what happened with them. After the long discussion we all thought it was best if we went to sleep and regain our energy.

"Hey, Dustin, this is Eddie the Banished. You there?" I hear through the walkie talkie. I groan and little and shift on my chair, which was Steve's lap. He groans as well but I shush him and quickly get off. "Dustin, can you hear me?" I hear again through the walkie. I look over to Dustin to find him still sleeping. I shouldn't wake him. He really needs his sleep. "Dustin? Earth to Dustin?" Eddie says again. I quickly pick up the walkie and move over to the table. "Hey, it's Y/n," I whisper, hoping he doesn't just ignore me.

There's a small break of static before Eddie says, "Hey, I'm gonna need a food delivery, like, real soon, unless you want me going out into the world." I panic a little and quickly reply, "No, no, please don't leave the house Eds. Stay there and we'll be there as soon as we can." "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, um... can you pick me up a six-pack? I know, it's stupid as shit, drinking right now, but a cold beer would really calm my jangled nerves," Eddie asks. I look behind me and notice that the couch is empty. "Hey Eds, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to call you back," I rush and turn the walkie off. "Nancy! Nancy!" I yell, shaking Nancy's shoulders. She groans and glares up at me. "What the hell do you want?" She asks. "Aren't you meant to be on Max watch?" I ask her. She rolls her eyes but nods. "There where the hell is she?" I ask her, getting more annoyed. "She's right there. A second ago. I swear, I just dozed off for..." She says but realises that Max is no longer laying on the couch. She looks down at her watch and her eyes grow in shock. She looks back at me and whispers, "an hour."

I groan and we quickly stand up, heading up the stairs. We head into the kitchen and find Max still at the table with her headphones on. I sign in relief and walk over to her. "Morning guys!" Karen greets us. "Everything okay?" She asks us after we don't answer her. "Yeah. Yeah, everything's okay." Nancy replies. "I think it's so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this," Karen says, putting some pancakes on a plate. "Could try sticking together at a different house for a change," Ted says. I roll my eyes but don't say anything, walking over to Max on the table. I sit down next to her and see a bunch of coloured drawings all over the table.

Max notices me next to her and stops the tape, pulling her headphones down. "Hey," She whispers. "Hey. You okay?" I say back, moving a little closer to her. "Just couldn't sleep. People kept blasting music in my ears, for some reason," Max tells me, looking down at her drawings again. I chuckle a little and she continues with, "But Holly let me borrow some of her crayons. We've been having a fun morning, right Holly?" We look over to Holly but she continues what's she's don't and says, "Mmmm-hmmm." I look back down at the table and ask Max, while moving one of the drawings closer, "Is this what you saw last night?" "I mean, it's supposed to be. I though it'd be easier to draw it out than to explain it, but... not so much." Max explains to me. "Is that...?" I start to ask, moving another drawing that seemed to be of Chrissy and Fred in front of us both. "It was like they were on display or something. And then there was this red fog everywhere. It was like a dream. A nightmare," Max explains to me. "Do you think Vecna's just trying to scare you?" I ask her. "With Billy? Yeah. But when I made it here..." Max tells me, pointing at the drawings. "I don't know, something was different. He seemed surprised, almost. Like he didn't want me there." Max continues to explain to me.

I look confused as Dustin, who randomly moved to the table with Nancy, says, "Maybe you infiltrated his mind. He invaded your mind, right? Is it that big of a leap to suggest you somehow wound up in his?" I look at him and nod, thinking about everything that we are learning about. It is weird though. How did Max end up in his mind if he didn't want her there? "Like Freddie Krueger's boiler room," Dustin adds on. "Freddie Krueger?" Holly asks Dustin confused, causing me to laugh a little. "He's a super burned-up dude with razors for fingers. And he kills you in your dreams," Dustin explains to her as child friendly as he can. "Dustin. Seriously? Nancy snaps at him. "Yeah, not like that Dustin," I whisper to him, looking over at Holly's scared face. Dustin looks at her and realises and says, "Sorry. It's a movie. It's not real." "Just... think about it. What if you somehow unlocked a backdoor to Vecna's world?" Dustin asks, looking back towards the three of us. He picks up a drawing and continues, "Like, maybe the answer we're looking for is somewhere in this incredibly vague drawing. God, we need Will."

"No shit. But I tried them again this morning, and it's the same busy signal." Max explains to us. Nancy seems to get idea and reaches over to grab a drawing. "Is this a window?" She asks, showing Max the drawing so she can answer. "Yeah," Max says. "Stained glass with roses," Nancy tells us. I look over and see that exact description on the drawing. "Yeah. See? I'm not so terrible after all," Max sasses to Dustin. "Yeah, well, it helps that I've seen it before," Nancy tells us, ruffling a few of the drawings around. She starts to fold a few of the drawings and move them around until it starts to builds a house. "It's pieces of a house," Max stats as Nancy starts to draw a black outline onto all the papers. "Not just any house," Nancy tells us. We all looks confused at her while she places the last piece of paper down. "It's Victor Creel's house," She tells us, standing up from her chair. "Where you going?" Dustin asks around a mouthful of food. "Waking the others," She says, walking towards the basement door. I quickly get up and run after her as well.

We walk down the stairs to find everyone down there still very asleep. I walk over to Steve but Nancy beats me over there. I scoff quietly but move over to Robin instead. I gently shake her and move a piece of hair out of her face. She groans but opens her eyes. "What time is it?" She asks as she goes to wipe her eyes. "No clue, but we need to go." I tell her, helping her still up and stand. "Where are we going?" I hear Steve ask loudly. I look over to him to find him looking at me in questions, rather than Nancy who is standing right in front of her. "We need to go to the Creel house," Nancy says, seeming to be slightly annoyed. He nods down at her but looks back at me. I smile at him and nod, motioning to the door. "Why don't we get everything ready and head out when we can?" I suggest. Everyone nods, and we gather what we can for the journey.

Sometime later

"This place is so creepy," Robin whispers as I pull up to the Creel house. I look out the window and say, "Yeah." We get out of the cars and start making our way up the stairs that lead to the Creel house. "Yeah, that's not creepy," Steve says, all of us stopping and looking at the house. "Let's get this over with," I say, grabbing Steve's arm and dragging him up to the door. When we get to the door, Steve starts to pull nails out of the wood. I stand on the other side to get the nails out as well. "What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?" Steve asks as he throws a nail behind him. "We're not sure," Nancy replies. He looks at me for conformation and I nod. "We just know this house is important to Vecna," Nancy continues for him. "Because Max saw it in Vecna's red soup mind world?" Steve asks. "Basically," I say, getting a "Great," in response.

"Maybe it holds a cluse to where Vecna is. Why he's back. Why he killed the Creels. And how to stop him before he comes back for Max." Dustin adds on. Steve and I look at Dustin but then turn to each other a little more worried again. "We don't think he's in here, do we?" Lucas asks, looking at all of us. Max answers him, "Guess we'll find out." I shiver a little but continue to help get more nails out of the door. "Ready?" Steve asks after a second, getting ready to get the board down so we can enter. I nod and we both let go of the wood, it falling and almost hitting the kids, Robin and Nancy who are behind us. As the wood falls, we find ourselves face with an old door with a glass stained window in the middle of it. "Well, this is it," I whisper to myself as Steve tried the door. "It's locked," He whispers after shacking it a little. "Should I knock, see if anybody's home?" He asks us. "No need," Robin yells, causing Steve and I to turn to her confused. She stands all smug and holds up a brick saying, "I found a key." I laugh and move out of her way so that I don't get hit.

Robin throws the brick right in the centre of the window, leaving behind and almost perfect hole. Steve looks through the hole and then carefully puts his hand through the glass and unlocks the door so that we can all come inside. He pulls his hand out and pushes the door open, causing it to screech. "God I hate that noise," I whisper to Steve, getting a nod in reply. Steve steps into the house first, whistling but the rest of us walk in almost straight away. We all slowly walk through the start of the foyer, looking around to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. "Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill," Lucas mumbles to us after trying to turn on of the lights in the doorway. We all start to turn our flashlights on as Steve asks, "Where'd everyone get those?" Dustin looks at him confused and gives him attitude while asking, "Do you need to be told everything? You're not a child." Steve looks at him in disbelief while I softly laugh at the interaction. "Thank you," He sarcastically says while I pull out another flashlight from my pocket. "Here you go Stevie," I whisper and pace it over to him. He smiles at me and takes the flashlight slowly from me.

I start to make my way around the house like everyone else but don't get far before Steve is grabbing onto my arm to stop me. "What?" I ask him, confused why he would stop me. "Go with Robin," He tells me, nodding over to where Robin is. I look at him confused and ask, "Why can't I go with you?" He smiles at me and steps a little closer. "You know Dustin. He'll probably start to start something again. I don't want you to have to deal with it if it can be helped. I nod, still confused why he'd not want me with him, and move over to where Robin and Nancy are starting to head. Nancy looks at me confused and annoyed but doesn't say anything. She turns back around and we start to make our way through the house.

"They just left everything," Nancy says as we look into one of the many rooms in the house. "I guess a triple homicide isn't good for resale value," Robin say back. "Yeah, wonder why," I say before starting to walk further into the house. "Hey guys," Max calls to all of us. We all turn towards her as she asks, "You all see that right?" In front of her stands an old grandfather clock. The grandfather clock that Max saw when she had her visions. Nancy walks away from us and walks closer to Max to ask, "Is this what you saw? In your visions?" Robin and I walk behind her as well, taking a closer loo at the clock as well. "I mean, it's... just a clock. Right?" Robin says, looking between Max, the clock and I. With no response, Robin moves past Max and cleans some of the dust from the clock glass. She turns back to us all and says, "Like a normal old clock." "Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?" Steve asks us all and adds on, "Maybe he's, like, a clockmaker or something?" I smile at him trying to work it out but Dustin sarcastically tells him, "I think you cracked the case Steve." I lightly smack him in the back of the head which causes him to glare at me while Nancy says, "All I know is the answers are here. Somewhere." "Alright, we need to split up. Make sure you all have a buddy, no one walk around this place alone," I tell everyone, all of us starting to split up and walk around the house.

[lttl3babybug]

Littledonnie littledonnie littledonnie

LITTLE DONNIE!!!

I don’t know if this was a request or not but I’m taking this time to give you my regressor Donnie headcanons bc he’s ABSOLUTELY my favourite turtle and I need to talk abt him or I’ll explode (I have brought my ‘87 Donnie figure with me to Holland, he’s my emotional support turtle)

Regressor!Donatello Headcanons!!

👾I think Donnie would either slip for one of two reasons, Stress- from working so hard on all his inventions and tech or two Leo was bored and needed a playmate

👾In my head Donnie’s regression range is on the older end of the spectrum but if something goes particularly bad in an experiment or an invention he goes deep into regression

👾His usual regression range I’d say is maybe 6-8 making him more of a kid regressor but if something goes wrong and he’s deep into it I’d say 0-3.

👾Donnie doesn’t take very good care of himself while he’s big so he is absolutely not allowed to be left unattended while small, even if he’s at his oldest age

👾This frustrates the little tot. A lot.

👾But he’s easy to calm down, put him in front of the projector and stick Little Einsteins or Sid the Science Kid on and he’ll stop his whining

👾And I mean stop, that boy shuts up immediately. He could be in the middle of talking and if you turn those on he just stops and stares

👾On this topic science museums. (I could do a whole set of hc’s based off this) he loves them

👾He’s not allowed in his lab when regressed, that was a rule set by big Donnie out of pure fear that he’s gonna break something he worked very hard on

👾When Donnie first regressed he was scared. He got so scared, that he slipped further into his regression going from a solid 6-4 within seconds

👾He cried, then toddled into Leo’s room and cried more because he trusted his twin more than anyone else with this new strange feeling

👾After Donnie fully grasps what is going on he tells Raph and Mikey, Leo becomes his primary cg because he was the first to know and Leo is his twin, so if Donnie goes non verbal they can use their “twin telepathy”

👾Donnie swears the twin telepathy thing is fake but somehow Leo always knows what little Donnie needs

👾Donnie doesn’t bite very often (Little fun fact here, softhells are very possessive of their things and very often bite and don’t let go for awhile) but when he’s little, those chompers get put to use

👾Leo once took a crayon off Donnie once so he could colour in with his Hermano pequeño. Donnie bit. And Donnie bit hard

👾Leo didn’t bleed but he screamed, Raph came over and had to physically pry Donatello off his brother who was inspecting his new bite wound. It scarred over

👾After that they bought Donnie a paci- for Leo’s safety. It’s purple (obvie) but that’s it’s only distinguishing feature. Donnie doesn’t like the ones that are covered in gems and beads, they distract him too much

👾If both of that disaster twins have slipped it results in both Raph and Mikey taking care of them because, while Leo is a handful by himself and Donnie is relatively easy putting them together causes chaos

👾Donnie typically regresses to be the older twin in this situation so he’s easier to calm down and stop him being a little shit, then once he’s been told he’ll immediately tell Leo to stop

👾Don would be such a little cutie to take care of, an absolute angel for you as he politely awaits his praise and for you to tell him how good he’s behaving

[safyresky]

Scrimbly Jacquelines 23/52: tfw you're stuck in an au where you are DEAD and you miss your wife and your brother has shit timing

So idk if you guys know this about me, but I am absolutely in love with @kscribbs's one shot "The Forgiven", which was her sequel to "The Jacqueline Dies AU", which will one day have a better name (how are we all feeling about "The One Where Jacqueline Dies" as a title? Yay? Nay? Should I go back to the drawing board? I'll go back to the drawing board). In fact, I'd go so far as to say I am OBSESSED with it.

SO MUCH SO that one of my fave pass times is spamming her on any and all platforms about a what if scenario in which Lucy and Jacqueline from ML/CS get stuck IN The Forgiven Universe for really cool badass stuff and what SHENANIGANS ensue??

This is one of them. Deffs a classic crack idea. Loosely inspired by this. I imagine it goes something like this:

"That's a lot of sprinkles, Winnie. That's more sprinkles than ice cream. Lacking a bit of sugar in your life? A little bit of sweetness, perhaps?" Winnie looked up from her sugary ice cream sundae, eyes hard, face haggard. "I miss my wife, Jack," she said, adding more sprinkles to her ice cream. "I miss her a lot." Unsure how to reply (an apology? Condolences?), Jack decided it'd be best to disengage, slowly backing out of the kitchen and quite glad to look for Lucy elsewhere in the Willow as the can of sprinkles (by far a Costco sized jar) trickled out of the lid, landing on top of the rest of the jar of sprinkles that now topped the ice cream.

She's in a glamour! Disguised herself as a more summery sprite and is going by Winnie, short for Winifred (Winter, actually, it's her middle name, but best not be giving away who she is—Father Time hadn't said she couldn't, but he did specify that it'd be best to not to while she and Lucy worked to complete their goal!), hence the thawed hair and red tones, lol. Fun fact: my dark brown prisma colour is NOT dark brown. source: I have dark brown hair and it does NOT match the pencil crayon!

ANYWAY, now that the scrimble is up (I drafted this post Thursday night but only got around to doodling it towards the end of the night--was way too focused on sweeping CS) some general art musings:

Man. That dark brown prisma. NOT dark brown. hhhhh

Something is wonk with her left arm (our right) and I can't stop thinking about it!!

The weird smudges are sprinkles lol

The table is a tree trunk! every time I picture the willow it's got tree furniture for some reason lmao

Her hair has like 5 layers of different browns and reds lmao

I can't remember how I did her thawed hair a couple scrimbles ago!! But I will find a way! Ah!

But yeah she's having a time in this timeline. Fun fact! Jacqueline does not like "Jacqueline Dies" timelines. They skeeve her out, man

[dinitride-art]

Number 10 - Season Four Episode One (Opening Scene)

Okay, so. I was looking through the openings of each season for... reasons. And I went through the start of season four because some weird stuff happened and I was like huh. That’s actually really weird, I’m going to keep looking. Because this stands out from all the other starts for some reason (stars, stars, upside down portal machine/stars, murder and death and banishment-no stars) and that’s just weird. 

We start out here in the rainbow room (with ten, before this it was that kid with the newspaper and Brenner and colour theory stuff) and Brenner and 10.

So, all the kids hospital gowns have snowflake designs on them. This is weird because of all the fire imagery we’ve gotten this season (molotov cocktails, flame thrower, pizza oven). Starting out with snow also might be referencing the Snow Ball, which is important later in the season. But either way, we start with 10 and Brenner. 

My first point: triangles. More specifically, Mike’s shirt pocket triangle. This specific pocket has been really interesting to look at with Mike during season four because it seems to point towards or away from Will depending on how Mike’s choices. Lying to Suzie and in Suzie’s highly religous household? Away from Will, until there’s a moment where it does point to Will-

Right here, and they have their little hand brush moment (Will’s lit very intensely) and both of them panic. It seems that when they get really scared, Mike’s shirt pocket points to Will and says hey! Here’s why. This is, the problem. 

But it’s interesting that 10′s triangle and Mike’s are in the same season. We’re meant to notice them both separately, with the emphasis placed on both of them (and they’re both blue- or at least connected to blue), but because they’re in the same season it feels possible that they could be connected. 

Mike and Will’s skates are both size ten and it’s odd that their skates are held in a way that we can read them. Unlike El’s skates, which she’s allowed to move around, Mike and Will’s stay towards the camera. It kinda seems like we’re meant to take note of them. My general rule for if something has meaning is if it’s in front of my face and I can see it. (which isn’t always the case, because sometimes things are hidden away, but usually if it’s there that’s because someone put it there). And I’m seeing two occurrences of the number 10 that are right in front of my face. So, that’s odd. 

We see a clear shot of El’s room. This could just be reminding the audience that hey! One o our main characters grew up in this lab! But that’s a big part of what we know about El so I don’t know if that’s exactly what’s happening here? It very well might be though considering this is the opening episode of the season. However, it could also be drawing attention to the idea that numbers in Stranger Things have meaning. 

Now this funky little brain wave scanning machine is one weve seen before.

We’ve seen this EXACT machine before in season two. The numbers on it? Might be important. 1511 connects to two ideas: El’s number from the lab, and 8:15. (halfway through writing theories I always feel like some ones written all of this before- and I never know if that’s true or not) 

Brenner draws a sun with a yellow crayon which- I mean, that sounds pretty connected to Will to me. Also might be connected to Max’s idea of hiding in the light and how Will is lit very brightly this whole season and all that. Also could be talking about the idea of a sunny day, or even California, or about weather (like rain and water, or sunny days or snow or storms- lots of shit going on with the weather). Also there’s that pen- which I’ll talk about a little later. That pen is also the thing that stopped me in my tracks while watching this and like. Turned my brain off and on again.

Brenner is seen writing with that pen multiple times, so it’s not just there for the hell of it. 

Then Brenner draws a dog- the Byers had a dog in season one. That dog kinda disappeared? And that’s a bit weird, but also one of the only connections dogs have in the show. So that’s also a tad bit weird.

Brenner and his pen again. So, I wanted to wait until I got through the role of the pen within the scene to bring this up but-

Season one, episode one- there’s that fucking pen.

You can half see it in shot here too, it’s Lucas’- but I also think that Will had the same pen (I think- I don’t have a picture of it but that’s what I remember noting in my head). And that’s weird. 

Brenner’s pen if from September 8th 1979- and there’s stuff to say about the seven in the number. Also weird. Also connected to season one. But what i want to point out is that season one starts November 6th 1983. That’s years between the appearances of these pens. Hawkins is small, so they were probably bought from the same place/came from the same place. But they’re also the same damn pens.

Why the Hell are they the same fucking pens.

Either we’re connecting the Party to the lab like symbolism and meta wise, or we’re connecting them within the narrative (...i think that’s right? I mean like logistically and within the bounds of the shows reality that we are presented). Both are concerning options. 

On Will’s readings we get the (serial number?) 3-A615. (I don’t know what this one might mean- maybe nothing- but Stranger Things is weird with numbers and I don’t trust them). Will’s readings also are really different than 10′s. With ten it looks like they’re monitoring something happening with an actual body function. It’s got a pattern that’s similar to a heart beat monitor even if i does change, it generally keeps that shape. 

But with Will, it’s not like that at all. Since Will is kinda going to get possessed real quick here, I guess these readings do make sense, but it’s weird that Owens is using the machine- the exact same machine no less- in the first place. 

Also with Will we see all these people watching the footage being recorded in the lab. In season four we find out that Brenner and Owens have all of that footage on hand and use it for the Nina project with El. Brenner and Owens? Sketchy as fuck. Will is definitely on Owens (and Brenner’s probably) radar for possibly having a connection to the Upside Down. 

The pen comes up yet again. It’s really just there all the time. There’s also the yellow crayon that’s been left out of the box that we can see. Considering the brown crayon was the last one Brenner used, this stands out. At the top of the page Brenner is writing on it either says that Ten is 13 or 14. Both of these are interesting options. 14 would mean 7 + 7, which is bad- and connected to both Will AND Mike because Will told Mike that it was a seven and it’s a thing for them. 13 comes up later here

Side by side (and even just thinking back on the scenes with El) it’s really clear what’s happening. When it’s happening is pretty interesting. Both of these scenes take place in the first episode of a season; seasons 2 and 4. These seasons parallel each other so much that I genuinely think Mike could be possessed in season four. That’s how much there is. From Steve’s sunglasses, to the relationship problems with being in love and who you actually want to be with (Nancy, Steve and Jonathan - Will, Mike and El), to the arcade and rink o mania, and the disco balls, and the snow ball, and so much. It’s so much. 

So these both being in the same episode in the season is interesting to me. Season two and season four are also the only two seasons that have nine episodes. The Snow Ball happens in both episode nines. In episode two of season 2 it’s the Halloween episode where they go to the street Loch Nora and Will has a bad time. In s4:e2, Mike goes to Lenora- and everyone has a bad time. They find El/El comes back near the end of both episode eights. 

There’s a lot. Honestly too many to list because we’re not done with season four episode one just yet. But yall get it. The parallels. They’re intentional. 

Just like how when Henry starts murdering children, Ten’s readings are very similar to what Will’s were in season 2. The parallelssssss

These shots were just weirdly similar to me. I think it’s just the ominous framing and caged in feel created by the door frame adn the hallway perspective, but those lights are also a bit odd. 

Now we get to number 13! It’s one of the only door numbers we’re able to read when Brenner sees what’s been going on outside. In season one, if I remember correctly, Will needed to roll a 13 or higher right? Which he did not roll. So there’s that connection. 

[A child covered in blood, a green block, a red block, a yellow hexagon, a blue block, a white block, a blue rod, and a green and red crayon are in frame]

[A child next to a pool of blood. A wooden block, a maze, and an overtured yellow bin are in frame. Tattooed on the child’s arm are the letters ‘007′]

[A blood splatter and a child’s arm are in frame. There is a blue half hexagon, a flat red square and a yellow flat rectangle in shot. On the child’s wrist are the numbers ‘005′]

No pictures for the stuff up there I described because during this scene I had to remind myself that, hey, they’re alright, they’re actors m’dude. I was more comfortable with just describing the shots. Anyways, what I really wanted to focus on was that we’re shown the numbers on two out of three of the kids wrists: Seven and Five. Seven might be connected to that 13 and have some season one ideas. Five might be connected to 8:15. 

The green and red crayon with the first kid reminds me of Will colouring and making the fireballs green because, no red crayon. So do those green and red blocks. The other blocks are a yellow hexagon, a blue block and a white block. Colour theory wise that’s most likely Will, Mike and El (white because of season four- but also could be red. She can do both. I believe in her). The whole rainbow room is really interesting for colour theory. The kid without the number in shot has the most going on around them where as the other two only have a couple notable objects. 

This opening scene might be connected to Mike, Will and El. Which means that there’s a few different possibilities for what this is telling us. But first a short summary to get my thoughts in order. 

1. El’s backstory, One, and the truth about the Mind Flayer and the Upside Down. That’s the first level of what’s happening here. It’s about El and Henry and the Upside Down. It’s setting up the theme of trauma and flashbacks and the Nina project and Vecna. At a first glance that’s what’s happening. 

2. Parallels of season four and season two. Going a bit deeper we can see how season two and season four both have episode ones with similar scenes in the lab. Ten and Will are both seen in the lab with the similar devices. We now know that Brenner and Owens were working together in season four and that there is a connection between the recordings of Will and the recordings of El used for the Nina project. At a second glance we see how this starts to connect to the overarching plot.

3. Fine details and numbers. That machine that we saw hooked up to Will and Ten is actually the exact same machine with the number 1511 on it. We can connect (loosely) Mike and Will too Ten because of what we see in Rink O’ Mania. We can also connect the scene to season one’s opening with the pen that Brenner has and the pens that the Party have being the exact same. Number seven and 13 on the door also connect to season one. There is a dog drawn on Brenner’s note pad that could be referencing the Byers dog in season one, and a yellow sun and a yellow crayon that could be referencing Will. Will is also related to fire imagery because of the spell fireball. Ten’s hospital gown has snowflakes on it which is almost the opposite of that, and connects to the Snow Ball. 

Will is definitely connected to the Hawkins lab in some way, but I think that he might be number 15. I don’t recall how many kids there were, at least 13, but I don’t think that there was a 15. 8:15 and 1511 on the machine are what’s making me think this. I also think that Mike is somehow connected to the Upside Down. The triangle and the tens are part of why I think this- but also just Mike in season 2. He could feel that El was alive, and we know that she was visiting him in her head. He was also one of the only ones able to tell when Will and the Mind Flayer switched out- and while yes this is because of mikeandwill, Joyce was also in that room. That makes me think there was something else going on. Similar to the way that we don’t see Henry mention Will all that much, he doesn’t talk about Mike either. When he and El are fighting in season four, those two should’ve come up. This is a thought that’s been bouncing around in my head for a bit and it’s out there. I know. But then there was the thing with the 10′s and the triangle and the pens and it’s kinda hard not to bring up the Mike theory at that point... the theory being Mike being connected to the Upside Down in some way.

Mostly this is about Will and those parallels though. Because there are a lot of those. Anyways Will probably has powers and Owens and Brenner and all the lab people probably know about it (Luke and Leia, there is... another) and yeah. Also maybe Mike because he’s got some weird stuff going on t-

[ginbenci]

a get to know you better meme

tagged by @mightymightygnomepriest

do you make your bed? in winter yes, in summer rarely (the difference between 7 carefully layered blankets and one (1) light cotton sheet)

what’s your favourite number? in my early teens, 13, because it's supposed to be unlucky and I was perverse and enjoyed being Special. ...Now.... I don't really do favourite anythings. Numbers are good as they are, and whether I like them or not. I'm fond of 12, being the smallest abundant number, and also of 70, being the smallest weird (an abundant number that is not, unlike twelve, pseudoperfect). but this is a ramanujan moment (nothing's boring, you just don't know what makes it cool)

what is your job? I work in tech law!

If you could go back to school would you? eugh. for what, and who's paying?

can you parallel park? Legally, no! (i, ah, need to level up my license before it lapses [again]). Practically, probably--i could a decade ago?

a job you had that would surprise people? knife selling

do you think aliens are real? OOOOOOH do you want to hear my semi-complex theory involving the metallicity of stars???? it's highly relevant

can you drive a manual car? ...

what’s your guilty pleasure? matcha ice cream. the guilt accrues because i KNOW i will forget about it in my freezer after eating one serving and the rest will go bad 😭 but I want the one serving so much!

tattoos? nope, but not for any reason. just never done

favourite colour? why on earth would I have a preference for any specific visible frequency

favourite type of music? blink blink blink

do you like puzzles? yessssssssss. I like doing jigsaws just with my eyes; lovely memory of surveying the pieces of a 1000 piece tall ship one at a cousin's house while cousin watched, seeing a location, identifying the piece, extending my arm, picking it up, and putting the piece in the location without turning, testing, or being wrong. got a holy shit and felt much like a robot

any phobias? nope although I'm not great with going down stairs or escalators. but that's bc my balance is, historically, abysmal 🤣

favourite childhood sport? badminton? basketball maybe? not T-ball [I had a long-running inarticulable T-ball related crisis of the soul --- it's on a stand, if I miss it it would be so much more embarrassing than if someone threw it at me, it's right there --- and of course the best way to resolve this would be to practice, but no, I preferred to weep copiously every time I went up to bat, for reasons no one could discern, until they gently steered me away from home plate and I sat out]

do you talk to yourself? i joke that part of the reason I don't have an inner monologue is because it's an outer monologue

what movie(s) do you adore? Some Like It Hot, Bringing Up Baby, Noises Off!, Galaxy Quest, His Girl Friday [alright yes anything with Cary Grant], The Holiday, Wallace and Gromit the Curse of the Were-Rabbit

coffee or tea? yes to both. black coffee, green tea, unless I'm feeling like milk, sugar, honey, cream, herbal teas, chai, decaf--never rooibos though

first thing you wanted to be growing up? I just checked My Life Plan, to be sure. This is written in sparkly black crayon on both sides of a piece of now-faded mint green paper torn from a notepad. The same thing is written on both sides, except that on side A I clearly tried to write my full name (Ginevra), gave up, wrote "Gin", scratched out the excess letters, and added Disguise Scratches on the other side of my name to conceal the mistake. I was 4: Side A also has a couple of attempted spellings of "job", namely "Jod" and much smaller, tentative, "Joj".

Side B, the final draft, says:

Gin / 20 cats / 14 jobs / 8 kids / and 3 / dogs

These were full-time jobs/Jod/Joj, to be clear. One was The Mayor, one a doctor, one an artist, one an astronaut possibly? I didn't actually know 14 professions, but I was gonna keep my options open till I found some more.

I also had a fiancé at age 4. While I managed 14 full-time positions, his sole ambition was to drive the street-sweeping machine.

tagging in, post essay and no pressure: @safelycapricious @draskireis @leymonaide @banananutloaf4life @willidothefandango

[violenttempest]

Lori: hc + 🌇 for a headcanon about morning- or evening rituals

05:30 - wake up because the 2 year old is already awake for some reason and in her face

06:00 - get 2 year old changed, dressed, and down into the kitchen for breakfast

06:30 - clean up toddler breakfast and get breakfast ready for 5, 9, and 11 year old.

07:00 - wake kids up for school and usher them down to where their breakfast is while making lunches for the ones attending school.

07:30 - attach toddler to harness and let the little creature run around the garden now that it's light while the others get dressed

08:00 - time to take kids to school/day care, get coffee

09:00 - home again to clean up the house from the night before because 4 kids never go to bed when they're suppose to and every night is a shit fest.

10:30 - double check all windows and doors to make sure locks and runes are in place because kids are stupid and might colour over one or jam a crayon in a lock.

[multimuse-online]

@daycarenightmare​

“Uh...” The mechanic wasn’t sure what to think the moment he stepped through those large doors into the Superstar Daycare. Obviously, the place was meant for kids so, of course, it was going to be colourful... But still, as the blond man in orange overalls -sleeves tied to his waist- stared up at the large statue just planted in the lobby, he couldn’t help but think this was a little overkill. Stepping around the statue, he investigated both side with a raised eyebrow. The maintenance guys had mentioned he’d been called in to help with the Daycare Attendant... So, was the statue like a representation of it...? Be a little weird if it wasn’t. Maybe he was overthinking it, the sight of all these colours and the overwhelming smell of plastic and glue was beginning to get to him. He’d get in, check the animatronic over, and get out. There was no reason for him to stay any longer than that. 

Stepping past the statue, he noted the start of a large slide. ‘Slide into fun!’ it said. Pausing briefly beside it, he considered his options. Nah, he was a grown man, he’d use the main door. 

Yeah, right.

Looping his shoulder bag behind his back and fastening it, the man leapt into the slide -that was thankfully big enough for his small frame- sliding down it with an unenthusiastic ‘weee’ sounding from him before he hit the pit of balls at the bottom. A pit that was, frankly, a little deeper than he’d been expecting. Batting some of the balls away from him, he stood up, fastening his bag back to his side once again with several metallic clanks inside of it. 

Normally, the animatronic would have been brought to Parts and Service for maintenance, but the mechanic had been instructed to do as much of it as he could in the Daycare during closing hours. Something about the Attendant being too ‘unpredictable’. Unpredictable enough that they’d provided him with a controller that lay at his belt, capable of giving a controlled shock if necessary. He couldn’t help but wonder how the hell they were still in business if their animatronics could potentially harm a staff member. Whatever, if he died from the hands of some strange Sun/Moon robot then at least his death would be interesting. 

With a small cough, he stepped from the large ball pit, looking around the Daycare, it was even more colourful inside; like if someone melted a bunch of crayons and threw them around and called it interior design.

“Shit, it’s bright in here,” He mumbled to himself, placing his workbag on the empty security desk and looking around. Now where was the Daycare Attendant? 

“Hey!” He called out, coughing briefly as the raising of his voice caused his throat to burn just slightly “You here? Maintenance guys told me to come take a look at you!”.

[thebearchives]

lonely nights in monaco | PG10

PAIRING: pierre gasly x single mom!reader

REQUESTED: [X] yes [] no

this is the second part of slow days in monaco, read the first part here.

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

SYNOPSIS: after meeting you and thomas, all pierre could think about was you. to escape his thoughts, pierre decides to go to club, only to you to show up in the same club, all alone after you got stood up on a date.

WARNINGS: the fluffiest fluff ever, pierre being an absolute mess in the beginning, mentions of thomas but no thomas x pierre content (sorry), french + translations, pierre calls reader every nickname under the sun because he is stupid and keeps forgetting to ask you for your name.

A/N: 100 followers!! sdim part 2!! who cheered??? thank you to everyone who interacted with slow days in monaco and asked for a second part!! i honestly had so much fun writing this part, literally having to pause so many times bc i couldn't handle how cute reader and pierre were lmao

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

the drawing done by thomas was put on display on charles’ fridge the second the pair of drivers had gotten home.

it was an endearing sight, and maybe a bit comical, with the colourful (and mostly coherent) mess of crayon scribbles standing out against polaroids of charles’ friends and family, and the slightly less coherent mess of chicken scratch that was charles’ grocery list. 

the number on the back of the drawing now found a new home in pierre’s list of contacts, under the name of thomas’ maman, after realizing he had never caught your name.

charles had laughed at him, telling him he could have read your nametag, and when asked by pierre, nodded to indicate that yes, he did in fact read it and yes, he did know your name. he refused to share it though, “you brought this onto yourself, mate. c’est la vie.” that’s life.

he’d contemplated sending you a text all day, going as far as opening a chat with you and drafting several different messages. each time he would erase it, slide up and clear the app. 

god, was it too early? should he wait for a couple of days before he sent you something? should he text you at all? after all, it wasn’t you who gave him your number, it was your son. 

pierre’s thoughts revolved around you and thomas for the entirety of his day, so consumed with his questions that he had waved off charles’ offer to go to the club with him and his girlfriend. 

your son, pierre had thought to himself, a kid who probably has a dad at home. his eyes widened at the sudden thought, holy shit, pierre, what the fuck are you thinking?

before pierre could freak out, another part of his mind had reminded him that the boy had given you his mother’s number for a reason. 

maybe because you’re a famous driver and he wants to talk to you, fuckface. 

but there was no father in the picture he had drawn. just you and himself, surrounded by the two drivers and their cars. that had to mean something.

pierre groaned into a cushion. even if that were the case and you were single, what were his intentions with you? 

he was sure you weren’t a short fling kind of woman, you had a kid to think about. a kid who had pierre wrapped around his finger without him even realizing it. hell, he had bought the kid a cookie before he even knew him. 

what a fucking idiot, pierre rested his head in his hands, what if he had been allergic to something in the cookie?

it was strange, really, to see pierre so distraught over a woman he had barely spoken to. to see him question his intentions for a woman he didn’t even consider a romantic interest. where were these feelings coming from? 

pierre abruptly sat up from his spot on charles’ couch. he needed a drink. he eyed the extra housekey that charles had given him after moving into his new place. what was the name of that club charles had mentioned?

about thirty minutes later, pierre found himself nursing his second drink of the night, sitting at the bar alone. he had arrived to the club just as charles had walked out, hand in hand with his girlfriend, who looked more than just a little tipsy. 

after a surprised smile and an explanation that he was going to take her home, charles was off, and pierre was once again alone with his thoughts.

he was only about halfway through his drink when a person sat down two seats down from him. a woman. 

his eyes dragged themselves up her body. first, her small black heels. then, her legs, that shined under the neon lights of the club. his eyes followed up the smooth silky material of her dress, fitting her like a glove, and yet still loose enough to be considered rather modest.

he’d choked, however, when his eyes reached her face. 

your face. 

he turned his head away from you, trying to hide his coughs, though his body gave away his struggle as it shook with every muffled hack. he could feel eyes on him, his ears heating up in embarrassment at the possibility that it was your eyes.

who would have thought, that of all the places he could have gone to, just to avoid thinking of you, you would show up at the same one? 

pierre pulled himself upright, the last of his coughing fit escaping him as he pretended to brush lint off of his pants. casual, yup, acting like he didn’t just cough up a lung at the sight of you.

“pierre?” even with the music booming over the speakers, he could hear your voice clearly.

the frenchman faked a surprised look when he made eye contact with you, “no way.”

‘no way’? are you fucking kidding me? of all words, ‘no way’, pierre wanted to punch himself, he had never been this bad at talking to girls before.

“way,” a small chuckle left your mouth. great, he thought, a laugh of pity.

you pointed to the barstool next to him, “is this seat taken?”

oh, fuck.

“no, not at all.” pierre willed his heart to stop beating so fast, hand gesturing to the seat next to him as if presenting it as yours to take.

you slotted yourself next to him, thanking the bartender as he passed you your drink of choice. 

“no thomas, huh?” yeah, no shit, pierre.

you let out a giggle, “no, no. i’m afraid he wouldn’t quite make it past the bouncers up front.”

after a sip from your drink you continued, “he’s with his grandparents tonight,” you held up your phone, the lack of notifications showcased your lockscreen clearly: a mirror selfie of thomas and yourself with matching tiger sheet masks, “and i haven’t gotten any calls from my mom yet, so i’m hoping that means he’s fast asleep in his bed.”

pierre wanted to ask about his father but refrained. he’d fucked up enough already, he didn’t need to make it worse. instead, he smiled, “cute lockscreen.”

your face instantly brightened and pierre felt like he was staring right at the sun, “isn’t it? thomas had seen them at a department store and begged for me to buy them for us so we could be ‘les tigres les plus cool du monde entier’.” 'the coolest tigers in the whole world.'

pierre and you made small talk about thomas for a few more minutes before pierre decided to bite the bullet and ask the one question on his mind, “so, what are you doing here? all alone, that is.”

“i could ask you the same,” you tipped your glass in his direction, a sly smirk painted on your lips.

“touché,” pierre started, “charles invited me to join him and his girlfriend, but i got here too late and now he’s tending to a drunk girlfriend and i’m here.”

you nodded at his explanation, “i got stood up.”

pierre spluttered for the second time in the same night, “you? stood up?”

you felt yourself experiencing deja vu from earlier in the day, handing pierre a napkin like you had done with charles, “you’re making it sound like that’s not believable.”

“because it is not, ma chérie.” neither of you batted an eye at the petname, “whoever stood you up is a fool.”

“well, you’d be surprised at how many men are fools, then,” you hid your slight frown behind your glass, “but it comes with being a mother, i suppose. no one wants you when you’ve got baggage in the form of a child.”

you quickly stuck your hand out, “not that i think of thomas as baggage. mon dieu, no. thomas is the best thing to have happened to me.”

pierre placed a hand on your back, thumb rubbing a small circle against the fabric of your dress. an act to show his understanding.

an idea came to his head, and on impulse, he stood up, telling the bartender to put your drinks on his tab and close it. his fingers tapped against your back, head beckoning for you to get up and follow him.

your questions fell to deaf ears as he tugged you out into the cool night air of monaco. unlike the club, the streets of monaco were rather quiet this night. 

before you could ask him once more, pierre answered your first, and arguably most important question, “we, belle fille, are going on a date.” pretty girl,

your cheeks darkened, “a date?”

pierre nodded, “you being a mother does not make you any less worthy of going out on dates and enjoying yourself. and i’ll prove it to you right now by taking you on the best date you’ve ever had.”

under the street lights, pierre could see the red that coloured your cheeks. a sense of pride bloomed in his chest. he was the reason you were blushing, and he liked it. a lot.

you hesitated for a second, before sticking your hand out, “consider the rest of my night yours, gasly.”

pierre smiled, hand slotting into yours perfectly, “prépare-toi à être étonné, mon amour.” prepare to be amazed, my love.

and amazed you were. from the moment your impromptu date with pierre begin, to the moment he walked you home.

the first thing he had done was take you to a diner entirely out of your budget. catching sight of your apprehensive look, pierre had squeezed your hand.

“you deserve to be spoiled, amour,” he had said. and he did, ordering the most expensive dishes and bottle of champagne, all while he explained to you how he had discovered such restaurant.

the two of you chatted about your personal lives, starting shallow and only delving deeper. 

you told pierre about your favourite colour, “originally, i was going to say that i don’t have one, but the shade of your eyes, well, it’s absolutely beautiful.”

pierre had blushed, averting his eyes from your face as he took a second to recover, “mon amour, i thought we had decided that tonight was my night to woo you. not the other way around.”

you had shrugged, a playful smile making its way to your face, “just being honest, is all.”

it was crazy to you, the way your world had turned a whole 180 in just one day. here you were, in a diner where waitresses probably made your rent’s worth of money in one shift, flirting with a famous formula one driver, the very driver you used to fawn over to your friends. 

when your food arrived, pierre had been chattering about his family and the plans they had made for the rest of his summer break. 

said frenchman had blushed profusely when you groaned in delight after your first bite. you, however, failed to notice, too focused on how the chefs were able to cook such delicious pasta.

at one point, pierre had noticed the splash of red that peaked out from the side of your mouth, thumb coming up to wipe it off for you as you rambled about the time you had burnt your pasta because two-month-old thomas had woken up and started crying.

you’d froze at the feeling of his warm thumb brushing against the side of your lip, your grip on your fork nearly faltering. pierre’s thumb had pulled away from your skin, the pasta sauce now gone from your face, but the rest of his curled fingers that grazed against the nip of your chin stayed. 

that had been the first instance of the night where pierre found himself staring at your lips, wanting nothing more than to place his own against them. 

instead, he wiped his thumb on his napkin, asking you how you had managed to get thomas to stop crying, acting as if nothing had happened. 

when time came for dessert, you had begged pierre to not order from the restaurant’s menu, 10 euros for a single scoop of ice cream had seemed entirely unreasonable.

“it’s gourmet!” pierre had argued.

“it’s bullshit,” you’d retorted, flagging down a waiter to ask for the bill.

the two of you had moved your date to the nearest mcdonald’s, a sundae placed in the middle of the table you sat at, a spoon placed on either side of the dessert.

the mcdonald’s had also been the second place where pierre found himself entranced by your lips. he had simply been admiring your features, eyes travelling down the bridge of your nose and to the cupid’s bow above your lips when your tongue had poked out, licking your bottom lip clean of the sweet ice cream.

in that moment, pierre found himself shifting in his seat, head filled with the most unholy thoughts as you continued to blabber about how you had learned in high school that humans had the ability to gain a lactose intolerance if they avoided all dairy products in their diet for a while, clueless to how the cheeks of the man across from you began to darken to a deep red.

pierre had proposed a late-night walk along the pier, something you had giggled about, watching his eyes roll in mock annoyance, before agreeing.

hands intertwined once again, the two of you walked down the harbour. pierre shared stories about the times he and charles had taken the yacht out and the absolute havoc they’d wreak. you shared stories of when you had been young, pointing to the biggest boats and telling your father that one day, it would be yours.

pierre had stopped you then, asking you to point to the boat you wanted the most right now.

“no, i know what you’re doing,” your arms were crossed and your eyes were narrowed, “a yacht is not something you can just buy.”

“chérie, it quite literally is.” he had laughed loudly at the way you rolled your eyes, heart warming when you’d shrugged his hand off your shoulder with a slight pout on your lips.

“you, mr. gasly, need to be brought back down to earth,” you had reached up and flicked his ear.

instead of cradle his stinging ear, pierre found himself reaching for your hand again, “then hold my hand and never let go.”

your next destination had been your last, and it had been a park. 

pierre tugged you to the open field, letting go of your hand to shrug off his jacket and lay it against the flat ground. he’d reached for you hand again after that, pulling you down to lay on his jacket while he laid his own body next to you, back against the dry grass.

“pierre, your shirt is white,” you sat up, “it’s going to get stained if you lay on the grass. take the jacket instead.”

pierre caught your wrist before you could pull the jacket from under you, “it’s okay, it’s not mine.”

his wide smile had caused a smile to grow on your face as well, allowing the frenchman to slide you back down next to him.

“i’ve always wanted to do this,” he had started, eyes playing connect the dots with the stars that shined above your heads.

“lay on the grass in charles’ shirt?” you had giggled when pierre let out a sound resembling a snort.

“stargaze with the most beautiful girl in the world.”

pierre’s heart stuttered when he watched you cover your face with your hands, propping his body on one elbow as he tried to pull your hands away.

“no, go away.” you had rolled over to escape his hands.

“mon amour, let me see your face.”

“no” your voice was muffled, words disappearing into pierre’s jacket and the earth beneath you.

“why not?” pierre’s hand found its way to your hair, fingers combing through the strands.

a quiet mumble escaped your lips, in absolute bliss from pierre’s ministrations.

“coeur, i cannot understand you when you’re talking to my jacket instead of me.”

heart. you felt your chest squeeze at the new petname, head turning slightly so your lips weren’t flat against the frenchman’s jacket, “i don’t want you to see how red you make me. c'est embarrassant, i feel like a school girl with a crush.” it’s embarrassing,

“then live out your teenage fantasies with me,” pierre placed his hand on your shoulder and you allowed yourself to be turned onto your back, eyes meeting pierre’s.

“okay.”

pierre’s eyes had found their home on your lips again, but instead of stare, he had closed his eyes, leaning forward. your eyes followed suite, the blissful feeling never leaving you even for a second.

his lips met your forehead, a quiet murmur being spoken against your skin, “tu me rends fou depuis que j'ai posé mes yeux sur toi ce matin.” you've been driving me crazy since I laid eyes on you this morning.

“imagine ce que j'ai ressenti en te regardant sur le grand écran pendant des années.” imagine how i felt watching you on the big screen for years.

the rest of your night had been spent cuddled in each other’s arms, fingers pointing at random shapes in the starry sky. 

you didn’t know when you had fallen asleep, wrapped up in pierre’s arms, feeling the safest you had in a long time. pierre, himself, had hated to wake you up, but it was late and he wanted to get you home safely.

hands connected for the last time that night, pierre took you home. smiling softly when you wiped your eyes only to snap your eyes open when you realized you had smudged your mascara. 

pierre’s thumb wiped under your eye lightly before resting on your temple. the rest of his fingers uncurled, wrapping around your head to pull it closer once more. 

his lips met your forehead again, this time longer than the last. he replaced his lips with his own forehead, eyes connected to yours.

“bonne nuit, mon étoile.” goodnight, my star.

it was safe to say that pierre had done more than just prove you were worthy of going out on dates and enjoying yourself. 

pierre had made you feel loved.

[miniimapp]

4*TOWN as Your Seatmate in Class - Highschool AU

Gen. ;; Fluff + tiny amounts of angst - Headcanons/Scenarios

Warnings ;; Bullying + Stress (Robaire's section)

Proofread + Edited ;; No, sorry !!

Auth. Note ;; This was supposed to be posted yesterday but I'm an idiot and forgot to finish Tae Young's section and when I noticed I was too tired to write anything remotely good :'D !!

Also, quick disclaimer, I'm not American so I have no idea what type of school system they have over there, I'm basing this high school experience off of my own experience :)

I really struggled with writing Z's and Tae's and I think it's obvious in both the length and the quality so I hope you can forgive me (especially Tae's in comparison to the last one)

Enjoy !!

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Aaron T - The One Who Steals Your Shit

It's a hate-love relationship

You hate when he asks to borrow your stuff

You love when he leaves you alone

Not one single class goes by where T isn't asking you for something

A pencil, a pen, a ruler, a rubber (eraser), tape, colouring pencils, specifically a purple crayon, post-it notes, a compass and protractor, glue - things that you can find in most shops

Has this man never heard of the stationary section ??

You don't even know why T needs half the stuff he asks you for given it's an English class but there we go-

It's gotten to the point where you're just giving him your pencil case before he even opens his mouth

T gets this goofy grin whenever you give him what he needs (which is every time he asks)

And maybe you keep giving him your stuff just to see that grin

What of it ??

Look,, I'm not saying you're a simp

But I'm not not saying you're a simp either

It's okay, we all go through our phases

One day I'm sure you'll be able to look at a pretty boy and not throw your empty wallet at his feet

But until that day it looks like Mr. Aaron T has got you wrapped around his finger

It's not all one-sided though !!

Because T's got a secret (Another day, I'm back at school. I thin about him, he's so cool !!)

He absolutely has every single piece of stationary he's ever asked you for in his bag

I don't mean he's stolen your stuff

I mean T already has all the stationary he needs in his bag he just chooses not to get it out so that he has a reason to talk to you

Yeah this is that trope - buckle in

Mama T has made sure her baby has everything he ever will ever need and makes him pack his bag every night before school

So I bet you're wondering how you found out about this

If you weren't wondering before you better start now

Well, friend, it was the unzipped backpack trap

Y'know when you're walking and your bag is completely open

Oh yeah

You know exactly where I'm going with this

It was the end of class (and the day) and everyone was packing up or already gone - you got back the fineliner T had borrowed and you were ready to go home

And then the loudest unzipping sound came from your right

You turned just in time to see a waterfall of multi-coloured stationary fall out of an unzipped pencil case that was falling out of an unzipped bag

And a frozen T, watching as all his stuff went crashing into the floor, stood with his bag swung in front of him as he prepared to leave

Mans is giving all fish a run for their money with his impression rn

Poor boy is just opening and closing his mouth trying to think of something to say

And you have so many things to say you can't choose which one to say first !!

T glances at you...and then tries his best to avoid your attempts at eye contact

"Who put all of that in there...haha...wow..."

The loudest snort escapes you as you cover your mouth trying to muffle your laughter

T can't help but smile - at least you were laughing, despite his embarrassment at least you didn't hate him

Bit dramatic but then again this would be boring if it wasn't

"You're such an idiot, oh my god" in between wheezes, snorts and loud hyena laughter

As T joins you in laughter he finds himself glad that this happened, even if it is a blow to his ego, otherwise he would never know this side of you

From this day on, T pledges to be the reason you smile brighter and laugh louder every day

Jesse - The One Who's Never Paying Attention

Jesse's the kinda bitch who gets the highest grades every time - he's top of the class in most things - yet he never pays attention

And its beginning to get to you

Big time

And you're way too sleep deprived to be dealing with this mental stress rn

Sitting next to this boy is torture because as you put all of your effort into focusing and still struggle to keep up with the lesson while Jesse has no problems

So confident in his abilities that he doesn't even try

Which definitely isn't the case

I think Jesse is someone who cares deeply about doing well in school, though he'd never admit it (he definitely instilled this mindset into his kids too)

He studies every night at home and reads ahead on the material so he knows it in preparation for class

Because the teachers don't teach in a way he understands, it just doesn't click for him

So he takes his education into his own hands

King behaviour tbh

So during class time ?? He's completely up in the clouds

Jesse loves to sketch in class

He'd prefer pottery but y'know...not exactly possible to bring out his wheel in the middle of a maths lesson

Oh yeah, this is a maths class

So he sketches pottery designs and whatever catches his attention really

As Jesse sketches, you are contemplating putting yourself into a coma (death's straight up commitment dude and you're too indecisive for that-)

But for now slamming your head into your desk repeatedly will have to do :)

How the hell is any of what this teacher is babbling on about meant to make sense in any way, shape or form ??

Literally name a part of their "explanation" because you call bs !!

You keep quiet because imagine having the teacher call you out as you have a breakdown ?? literally bye

However, being your seatmate, Jesse has no choice but to pay attention

Literally, you're causing his lines to shake-

But also because you've caught Jesse's attention and your...movements are making you hard to draw

How can he draw that sparkle in your eyes if you're face down on your desk ??

A light tap on your shoulder brings you out of your wallowing

Fuck, the teacher's caught you now

They're gonna hate you for forever now and you're gonna fail because they'll make sure to never explain anything in a way you understand and fuck shit damn it you need to pass this class

You look up - ready to really put on a show of tears and pretend your friend's grandma's pet's uncle Gustopher died last night-

Oh...

...that's not a teacher

Arguably worse it's Mr. Know-It-All

And fuck if he doesn't look like god's gift to the world in this stupid lighting from this stupid angle which no one should look attractive from

It's official: you hate Jesse Whats-His-Last-Name

"You alright, love?"

(Because of course Jesse is just as free about pet names as he is when he's grown up - probably even more so)

GOD DAMMIT AISAKJBSLABDBC

How dare he use that on you ??

Especially looking like that

"...no."

WELL AREN'T YOU ARTICULATE ??

"Okay, how about you rest for a bit, I'll take some notes for you, alright?"

ADBSJJSKKAJCKDHGEJDNC

WHAT-

for you ?????

SKDFNKJHSDLVKNBJCB

You manage a nod and a watery smile

And somehow you manage to pass out for the rest of the lesson

...

You wake up to the sound of chairs scraping and loud talking

On the left side of your desk is a sheet of neatly written notes with diagrams (you could cry-)

As you pick it up to put away in a safe place you notice another piece of paper underneath it - folded.

Curiosity obviously wins out so you pick it up and are met with many sketches

Flowers, clouds, lots of pretty things

But the two noticeable drawings ??

They're of you

One of you staring forwards with your pen held against you bottom lip

And the other one of you sleeping at your desk

You couldn't lie they were beautiful

You were beautiful

Is this really how you look ??

Did Jesse see you this way ??

You hope he does

Speaking of- you look around for Jesse but he's long gone - along with everyone else

Better skedaddle before the teacher attempts conversation- oh wait they're gone too

Great ??

You let yourself smile as you slip both of the pieces of paper into your bag

Maybe he isn't so bad

Aaron Z - The One Who Comes to Class Injured

Oh man, you have major concerns about Z

Every other week he's sporting some new injury

A month or so ago he was on crutches with a sprained ankle

2 weeks ago he had a black eye

Last week he nearly ripped a tendon and wasn't allowed to come in

And now he's got himself a broken arm

Fucking how ??

What the hell is Z doing to get these injuries ??

Is someone hurting him ??

Is he getting into fights ??

Is the extracurricular sports he plays religiously ??

And why does he get extra desk space-

Just give him his own desk, dammit !!

And of course Z is so quiet that he barely has any friends in his classes and none of his actual friends seem to share any with him either

Which is so strange ??

Not one person really ??

So now you'd been lumped with the poor guy to help him out whenever he has an injury since you shared most (all ??) of his classes

Z just looks so uncomfortable whenever you're alone together

You'd be offended if you didn't know his personality

Unfortunately, his general discomfort makes you feel just as awkward as he does

And it's kind of a problem

Because your teachers keep looking at you like they're expecting something

Like you'll suddenly become besties

Which is...hopeful

And naive

Not that you wouldn't love to be friends with Z

The guy seems really cool

But...y'know

This bizarre buddy system had only recently taken place so you'd only been helping him since the start of the week

And it's already this bad

Not that Z's bad !!

He's fine

Great, even

Just...quiet ??

Again, not a bad thing !!

Just had to make a friend for life in these conditions, y'know ??

Doesn't help that your almost as awkward on a good day so...

You walk side by side, carrying both your and Z's bags to your next class which, surprise surprise, you share

Stuck in the monotony of school life your mind begins to wander

As you amble along Z begins sneaking glances at you

You sat next to him

You accepted to escorting him around school like a bodyguard

or worse...a babysitter

You offered him a smile every time he sat down next to you

You even offered to carry his bag when all you had to do was walk him to the next class

Why... ??

Why're you being so nice to a...not stranger...acquaintance ??

Sucked into his own thoughts Z didn't notice the small step in front of him

The sudden drop (though pretty small) was enough to send him flying into the wall shocking you both out of your stupors

You sprinted over, checking over him like a worried mother as Z stood there stewing in his embarrassment

"Oh my god! Please tell me you didn't break the other arm!"

"...it's fine..." he replies in the quietest voice ever

"Are you sure? Do you want to go to the nurse's office anyway, just to be safe? I have plasters but I'm not sure they'll help all that much"

You break into nervous laughter before it quickly turns into real giggles and snorts (yes you will snort every time you laugh, if I have to suffer this irl you can suffer through it in headcanons !!)

Though he doesn't laugh with you Z does crack a smile which is a win in your book

"I think I'll live"

"You sure? Because your track record suggests otherwise"

You receive a playful glare for that one

"Come on, clumsy. I'll make sure you make it the rest of the way to class in one piece."

Maybe the next time you had to help out with Z's injury the silence would be so awkward

or silent at all

Robaire - Your Academic Rival

Similar to Jesse's headcanons, Robaire is one smart cookie...it infuriates you

But in a fun way

Because you can fight back

The competitiveness on you two is scary ngl

Everyone else in your class has given up trying to beat either of you

They just silently hope that whoever is highest in the most recent test doesn't gloat about it

This time it's Robaire

And you're not...happy about it, shall we say

So of course Robaire has taken it upon himself to rub it in your face as much as he can

And though you hate losing you can't deny the anticipation and excitement you feel whenever test scores are released

Because win or lose it's a lot of fun competing with Robaire

And he has fun too, don't you worry

On occasion Robaire has been known to study for a few more hours than usual leading up to a test just so he can beat you

And his friends find it hilarious

Because on you could get under the cool, calm and collected Robaire's skin like this

So they simply watch in amusement as he turns to you, a victorious smirk on his face

"Look like your crown is slipping, your highness. And with that, I think your throne is mine."

"Just you wait, Robaire, I will crush you in the next test. Prepare to taste my dust."

You shared grins

"I don't think I will. If you can't even keep up a streak of more than one victory compared to my four in a row, how could you hope to seize the next one?"

"Pure determination, loser. Watch me."

You grab your bag and stand up

"Here, I'll even give you some dust-eating practice. See ya next class."

You wave and move on out of there

But not before you hear a hushed whisper from nearby

"They're such a try hard it's not even funny..."

"Pick-me behaviour-"

You're no stranger to mean comments and prefer to let them roll off of you like water off of a duck's back but these particular voices with comments like these had started to follow you everywhere

What really got to you, though, was the fact you never saw who was saying them

You could only hear them

There's no way to turn them off

And you hate that you're letting them start to affect you but you just can't help it.

They're everywhere

Your only haven is your home and even there the comments had started to pick up, your mind echoing them back to you whenever you had a single moment alone

It's starting to make studying even harder than it already is

Which is why you completely bombed the next test

You failed badly

You can only hope you don't start to cry as you flip through pages upon pages of red crosses next to your hastily scribbled answers

You hadn't gotten a bad score on a test in so long

You'd made sure of it

What would everyone think if they found out-

The pick-me doesn't even have a leg to stand on

Look who's all bark and no bite

This is Robaire's rival ?? yikes...

Fuck...what will Robaire say ??

And after you'd gone and blabbered your mouth at him too

God...

So when Robaire turns to you, holding his paper close to his chest and grinning as if he knew he'd won, you lost it

You sprinted out of the room and to the toilets as fast as you legs could carry you

A sight that left Robaire more than a little speechless

One of his friend laughed, "Is that their way of telling you that you've eaten their dust or?"

But Robaire had seen your face and it hadn't been mischievous or even slightly smiling

You looked distraught

Robaire walked up to your desk and flipped your paper over, eyes widening when he saw your score

Well, now he knows why you ran...

Dropping his paper on top of yours to hide the score, Robaire runs out of class too

Meanwhile you're staring at yourself in the mirror willing the redness in your eyes to disappear

Fuck it...whatever

You left your paper there anyway, there's no way that the whole class doesn't know about it by now

You give your swollen eyes one last look before leaving the toilets

And fucking great, Robaire himself is right there as you leave

"You okay?"

You stare at him for a second and then nod

You'll get over it

Eventually

Jury's out on everyone else though

"I'm gonna need you to convince me, chéri. Because seem as okay as you want me to believe."

"It's whatever, man, forget it."

"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it right now. How about a hug? Feel free to say no." Robaire smiled gently at you and you felt your heart squeeze in your chest

You hesitate before nodding and stepping forward into his waiting arms

You breathe in and smell what can only be described as Robaire

You have no idea what to place the scent as, it's just warm and it's him

Maybe you'll tell him in a minute, or an hour, or a day or maybe a week but here, in his arms, you feel safe and better already

Tae Young - The One That You Tutor

Given the fact the Tae Young's moved around a lot, he's also the new kid a lot

And that always affects his classwork

Different curriculums, different teaching styles, even different languages and he's expected to roll with it and keep up

Tae's expected to ride the wave of change but he keeps getting sucked under, flailing around as he tries desperately to stay afloat

Even his best classes are ones he's somehow behind in and it's pretty upsetting

Tae Young is smart but all of this confusion and catching up to topics he hasn't even heard of yet is lowering every semblance of his confidence and self-esteem

Which is where you come in

Being a part of the tutoring program it's literally your job to make sure the students under your care are getting the grades they deserve and are understanding the topics they're learning

You share their losses, their wins, everything - you watch the people you're assigned to grow and learn and nothing makes you happier

And you like to think they enjoy being tutored by you just as much

So when you're told you've been given a new tutee you're happy to help out

It's what you do after all

So you make your way to the library, note books in hand

You'd done enough tutoring by now that you had a set plan of how to go about things

In this first session not much tutoring would be done, honestly, but in order for your tutee's to learn anything you'd need to figure out how they learn, what they need to learn and what's causing them to struggle

When Tae Young was told he'd been given a tutor he felt ashamed

If he'd just been able to keep up with the work then he wouldn't be in this situation

Tae's barely been in this school a month and he's already enough of a failure that he needs another student to tutor him.

He felt like all eyes were on him as he shuffled to the library, nervously picking at the skin around his nails

Even the wall had eyes to judge Tae with

You made sure to get to the library before your new tutee (such a weird word lol-)

You set up at your normal table and waited, wondering who they might be

Tae Young stands outside of the library, fingers tapping out random pattern on his thigh as he hypes himself up

Now or never

He takes a shaky step inside and looks around, hoping to find his tutor

You watch Tae Young vibrate on the spot as he frantically looks in all directions

Well, your new tutee hadn't come yet so you could probably help him out

"Tae? You okay?"

Turning to the side, Tae Young catches your eye and almost deflates in relief

Someone he knows !!

"Mmm, yeah. Sorry!"

You give him what you hope is a reassuring smile

"Not to worry. But, uh, I don't normally see you in here, what's the occasion?"

Tae Young chews on his lip for a moment before looking up at your through his lashes

His voice drops down to a hushed whisper

"I'm supposed to be getting a tutor but I don't know where they are..."

Your smile widens into a grin

"Well, I think I've hit the jackpot then because I'm waiting for my new tutee. Bets on who that might be?"

Tae's eyes widen comically as he lets a smile take root on his face and you stifle an aw

"Really? Thank goodness, I was super worried that they'd be mean but I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore!"

You laugh and guide him to your table

"I'd hope not. Well, since I already know you we can skip introductions. I have a rough idea of what you might need help with but it's much easier for the both of us if we hash it out together; does that sound good?"

Tae Young nods and flops into a chair, his earlier nerves dissolving as he listens to you talk

With a tutor like you he won't have to worry so much anymore

And if he slips you a thank you note and a daisy the next time he sits next to you in class that'll be our little secret ;)

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I always end up writing too much for Jesse's sections T^T stupid character limit !!

I hope you enjoyed !! <3

[wincore]

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly. 

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that. 

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you. 

You shake it off. 

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer. 

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks. 

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

-

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates. 

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue. 

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile. 

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes. 

“Sungchan?!” 

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!” 

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face. 

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity. 

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.” 

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns. 

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on. 

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention. 

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys. 

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling. 

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love. 

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile. 

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation. 

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.  

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on. 

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones. 

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts. 

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you. 

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm. 

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes. 

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls. 

"Do you have any bandaids?" 

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.” 

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you. 

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind. 

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers. 

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans. 

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him. 

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade. 

-

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan. 

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead. 

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly. 

“Hm?” 

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that. 

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field. 

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding. 

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave. 

“You should,” he responds, honest. 

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile. 

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties. 

Only one more match, you remind yourself. 

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this. 

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all. 

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile. 

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. 

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

-

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you. 

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading. 

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care. 

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk. 

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild. 

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

[arienic]

1 — The End: Start!

✧ Apokályspi: The End — a various!genshin impact x gender neutral!reader series.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: When you wake up, you realise two things at once: the first is more obvious, and it’s that you don’t belong here. The second is more peculiar than anything, really: for some reason, you can see colors.

GENRE/S & OVERALL TROPES: Romance; Adventure; Fantasy. Reincarnation; Transmigration; Isekai; Reverse Harem; Slow Burn

CONTENT: Explicit language; Reader panics

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i know it's not sunday but i felt really bad taking so long to post this so here you go! enjoy :)

✧ REMINDER: If you want to add on to or disprove anything regarding any of the topics explored in this series, don't be afraid to DM me!

Touch alone was enough for you to realise that you weren’t meant to be here.

There was no flimsy blanket pulled over your legs, no pillow bracing your head, no soft breeze from the cheap mini fan you’d bought half a week ago. The air was crisp, refreshing—the opposite of the heavy summer you’d gotten used to breathing. Without a doubt, you knew: you weren’t meant to be here.

Your other senses, too, all the smells and the sounds—they did nothing to help you.

Leaves rustled above you, accompanied by the knocking of branches against each other. Nearby, water flowed, the sound coming from farther back still; you heard the crashing of a waterfall from your left. Also, you were certain that your college campus didn’t house cranes, judging by the rattling calls in the distance.

So, curious and wary, you opened your eyes and—

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

Holy fucking shit.

Blue. The sky was blue.

A common fact. Everyone knew that. The sky was blue, grass was, most often, green, and the sun was a yellow dwarf star.

In all your twenty-one years of living, however, you’d never understood any of that.

Stupid? No. You weren’t stupid. It was more like you couldn’t understand. You’d heard it all before, whether it be from the internet or in a book or by way of a random stranger on the street. You could list all the colors the sky came in from memory: blue, red, pink, yellow, orange, purple. The most common color of grass was green, and stars came in nearly every colour of the rainbow.

Brainless was one thing you’d never admit to being—not to mention your parents would have your head if you were. Because you knew about the names, the shades, the concepts. You heard them, read them, could spell them out loud or trace them in the earth with your eyes closed. It was just that you didn’t know them. You couldn’t see them. At least, not the way others did.

Though it wasn’t like you didn’t try.

Hours spent poring over descriptions and scrolling through the internet did nothing but explain concepts, symbolisms—feelings people connected to the colors you couldn’t see. To them, they might’ve made sense, but they could see them. Seeing colours was out of the picture for you. So, nothing. You knew nothing.

Knowing nothing was annoying enough—and for as long as you could remember, you’d hated that. You hated that you couldn’t know or understand. You hated what made it so that you couldn’t understand. Hated it.

It, meaning achromatopsia.

Achromatopsia, the condition that made almost half of your classmates in kindergarten dub you the ‘weird kid’ without hesitation when you colored the grass purple in crayon. From misunderstandings at your part time job to converting to a completely monochrome wardrobe in fear of going out in some ridiculous color combo, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t affect almost every aspect of your life. 

So finally being to experience the world as others did? Well, needless to say, it was a little surreal.

(Still, you couldn’t help but think: This isn’t right—as if it hadn’t been evident from the beginning. I don’t belong here. Because you weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to be seeing colours. It should’ve been impossible. Whatever this was that was happening, it shouldn’t be, and you should stop it. Stop it and then go back home. Stop it.

You didn’t.)

Once you sat up, though, you wasted no time taking in your surroundings.

Just as you’d expected, you weren’t laying on your bed. You’d been asleep on stone bricks arranged around a statue that… glowed. Of a hooded man—a boy?—with wings on a pedestal, something like an orb cupped in his hands, which were raised in front of him, just below his chin. A strip of blue (?) glowed by his feet, and below that, another, thicker one glowed as bright. The pillar he stood on was detailed with gold, and a golden rim—was that floating?

You really did not belong here.

Behind the statue, still was there more to take in: a large tree planted firmly in the uneven ground, with what seemed to be glowing butterflies crowding below its leaves and around its trunk.

Just as you’d predicted, the tree was big. How tall even was that? Ninety meters? A hundred meters? Terrifying. Never mind the exact height, actually. That thing was tall. Big. Ridiculously ginormous. Larger, even, than the sequoia trees you’ve seen, with roots that penetrated the rocky ground beneath and a surrounding area that made it seem as though it’d forced its way up from beneath the earth, creaking branches and all. Like something out of a fantasy novel.

Glowing statues of boys with wings and trees larger than life. Wouldn’t be too far off the mark, really.

Small red (you bit back a giddy flash of your teeth, because oh my goodness red) flowers dotted the grass beside where you’d been sleeping, their delicate petals folded and spinning like windmill blades. The staircase itself, thin, wide and made out of stone slabs, was buried partially beneath a large mound of dirt and led to a pathway that snaked to the left, between the grass and beyond the green (green!) hills—and, judging by the rooftops and windmills in the distance, it was probably a way to the nearest city.

To your right, cliffs and mountains, and—you stepped over a stray root, on a brick ledge, and squinted—what looked to be some ruins and the river you’d heard before, leading into the sea. You tried holding your hand above your brows to block out the sun, squinting until you could just barely make out the outline of a crumbling gray structure, then nodded once. Twice. Seven more times.

Yeah, you thought, nodding to yourself. Yeah, okay. Okay. Yeah.

Yeah, no. You had absolutely no fucking idea where in the world you were.

None of this looked familiar. Literally nothing. It was like some sort of prank the universe decided to spring on you, making sure that you had no idea where the fuck you were despite all the places you’d been to. The only thing you could guess (and that was only guessing) was that you were somewhere in Europe, going by the bits of architecture you could make out from the city beyond. Everything else only served to confuse you, like the statue of the boy with wings and the largest tree you’d ever seen and the little glowing butterflies, because you’ve never heard of any of them—never seen any of them, either—in your entire life.

In all honesty, if you hadn’t started to panic, you’d probably conclude you were in a fantasy world of some sort, appreciate your mind for allowing you a single night of seeing colour, and go back to sleep in hopes of waking up in your dorm room. But this place was a little too real to be a dream. The breeze felt a little too refreshing when it kissed your cheeks, and the stone was a little too rough on the soles of your feet. The way the leaves rustled, the branches sounded when they swung softly back and forth, it was a little too real. The grass swayed with the wind, the sun shone in your eyes, and if you watched closely, the clouds shifted across the sky ever so slightly, white fuzz curling against a light blue canvas. 

You’ve dreamed before, sure. Fantasy worlds, myths and legends. Just not like this. Never like this. Never this real.

A voice spoke up in your head: If it seemed so real, why shouldn’t it be?

For a moment, a part of you was tempted to answer back: Because it shouldn’t! It just shouldn’t, and that was it. Because it shouldn’t make sense—it wouldn’t make sense. Because it didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. Not a single bit. Boys didn’t have wings. The tallest tree in the world (on Earth) was only a hundred-and-sixteen meters high, and you were fairly certain this tree before you was taller than even that. There were no historical statues in Europe that glowed—scratch that, no statues in the whole world that glowed. Not that you were aware of. And even if there were, then certainly not like this. Not like—that. It didn’t make sense. No fucking sense! So it wasn’t real. The only logical explanation would be that it wasn’t real. This was all just a dream, that was it. You were just fucking dreaming.

And you would’ve told the voice that—would’ve denied, and denied, and kept on denying—if not for the fact that the rest of you, though somewhat terrified of the admission, thought it was right.

This was real.

The sky was blue now. Here, statues glowed. There were trees taller than that one sequoia tree, Hyperion, and butterflies were luminescent and ethereal and shone even in daybreak’s shadow. You could see colours, foreign and bright. Blue, the sky; gentle red on a flower’s petals; green against the gray of perilous cliffs. You could feel the weathered stone on the soles of your feet, feel the dirt slipping between your toes. What you were experiencing was as real as real could get. This was as real as real could get. This was real.

Feeling wasn’t something you could afford to do—at least, not right now. You had no idea where you were. You probably weren’t even on Earth, as stupid and fantastical as that sounded. Get moving. You needed to get moving.

You brushed the dirt on your hands off on your clothes and sighed, squinting into the distance. 

To windmill city, then.

✧ CHAPTER TWO

[moogghost]

it's like a school evening and i took a ~3 hour nap (not the best idea but i was very sleep deprived and the tea was losing its effect lmao) so. feeling like rambling about my los today specifically them being partially not human (excluding holt, coda, and staples, probably harlow by default for obvious reasons too i feel? he's now part snake soo). really just about their stationery related attributes honestly but yeah

this more of applies to post-game for them bc during pmtok they were just given stationery related abilities (through an item or like. just a temporary ability it depends). but in post-game they were actively revived from their respective stationery item

put under a cut bc it's. long ygfds

jean-pierre:

definitely has sharper teeth like. though i generally give all of my humanoid characters sharp teeth via art style their teeth are actually very sharp and you would not want to get bitten by her. they aren't metallic exactly but they're very hard to damage bc they're significantly stronger than regular teeth

they also have multi-colour blood, and it actually changes should he decide to eat coloured pencils or. any art supplies that involve colour to some degree for. any reason

on a further note jp can eat coloured pencils with absolute ease and i feel like it'd sort of be an alternative way for him to fire his missiles

her hair can change in colour or saturation depending on the kind of mood she's feeling. and as jp needs more sleep it grows more desaturated/dull so it's also a "go to fuck the sleep and quit drawing" function too lmao. at first there was little control over it and like. he wasn't even aware it was a thing until one of the los asked about it and promptly embarrassed jp. but jp has pretty good control over it and will use it for various outfits if they're feeling extra

robin:

i'm still iffy on whether i'm going through with the redesign or not (probably will simply bc it gives more rubber band vibes to me), buuuuut. robin has a detachable rubber band tail that cele can use and change for any reason at any time

could be for like basic use or like a prop cele wants to use in a play. or robin simply needs a weapon. either way it's detachable and instantly regrows if destroyed

speaking of that robin can use any kind of rubber band and do things like either rubber band lasso or rubber band suspenders and it will not give robin any pain so should they snap, which is very unlikely

taniel:

he has! tape dispenser wrists! sorta. they look regular enough but he's basically able to pull a shit-ton of tape out of his wrists and this tape is. actually very strong and can be used for a lot of different things, he mainly uses it if he needs tape immediately or if he needs to repair some clothing. gets more tape via eating more

can also come in different colours if like. either he and jp are working together and combine their powers or if he eats coloured art supplies like paint/coloured pencils/crayons. he can eat these just fine btw

also i do feel like i should mention he can do this with his tongue should he choose he just hates doing it that way, and will only do it that way if he gets a good/funny reaction out of it. like the tongue is relatively normal but if he's getting tape like that it will be much more like tape, and is a lot sticker than the wrist tape

also on his wrists can be metal tape cutters, he can control if they're visible or not though and he usually doesn't use them (especially not if fighting for fun with friends or whatever bc those are. sharp)

he also has metal teeth. doesn't give that appearance but. those teeth are basically tape cutters now. you would not want to get bitten by him

on his feet he also can sort of make small-ish tape roll wheels either on the side or bottom of them to make tape roller skates instantly. they can either work as just simple roller skates or leave tape everywhere depending on how much of an asshole taniel's feeling like that day, though he doesn't do this often because he's a tape that can barely ride a motorcycle let alone roller skate

saxen:

okay most important thing if she's determined enough she can turn her arms/hands into blades. she'd only do this if she's feeling threatened, and can hardly control it

if you're seeing a reoccurring pattern of me giving most of my legion sharp metal teeth no you didn't /lh anyways so does saxen

this is hardly noticeable but. i'd say saxen generally has similar resistances/weaknesses as metal does and thus will either be stronger than most people in some situations and weaker in others. also part of why it cannot be in extremely cold places for too long

lykos:

i'll be honest he already wasn't really human prior to stapler revival. he's uh. technically a minor god not really a demigod any more but it doesn't come up often and also if i actually did fully go into depth/explore its abilities more it would be. very op (which i MEAN. makes sense since it's related to a fanon vellum of mine who deals with balance and whatnot but. still). then again both main stapler and alt stapler are very op oddly enough so i think it's just a stapler thing w/ my legions

honestly the main thing is that he. technically has staple teeth? sorta? like if it bit something hard enough then theoretically it could staple that

also can actually eat staples for this reason. doesn't because he's a coward /j

it isn't aware of any of this stapler related stuff btw as far as his knowledge goes he has what is basically a needler with staples and his staple remover claws when it comes to that (though to be fair. it isn't like he's going around biting things/people or eating inedible objects unlike his qpp saxen)

[feral--bog--witch]

I don't know if anyone of my mutuals are from Texas but here is a really good list of winter survival tips from a lady who lives where it gets to be -40C (up to -55C sometimes).

Layer your clothes.

Start with leggings or skin tight pants, then put sweats or another fuzzy type pant over top of that. Put on a tank top, then a t-shirt, then a sweater, then a coat. Same with socks. Layer your socks as well. HOWEVER do not put so much on that you start sweating. If you start sweating you MUST remove a layer to where you are warm but NOT hot. If you get cold while you are sweating, it negates all your layers and you WILL get cold faster.

For going outside without winter gear.

Do the layering and if you have wind pants or a wind jacket (waterproof outer shells can work too), put that over top of your clothes. Its not rated for cold weather but it will keep the wind from cutting through you which is a big thing that can affect your core body temperature. The wind will be freezing and it won't take you long to get freezing as well if it can cut through your clothes.

For your feet, water proof foot wear but NOT rubber boots. Those will make your feet freeze.

And for gloves, if you don't have any, you can make some quick ones out of socks but you MUST put them on BEFORE you go outside otherwise it negates the reason for them. They KEEP you warm, not MAKE you warm.

Also remember leggings can be doubled as a scarf and you can and will lose heat through your head so wrap it up or wear a hood.

What to do if you think you have frostbite.

You can tell if you are frost bitten due to the fact your skin will kind of go numb and you can no longer feel it. The worse it is, the more you can't feel. Now to warm that area back up once you are safe inside DO NOT USE HOT WATER! This is imperative. You WILL cause second or third degree burns because you can't tell how hot it is. Start with tepid water and rub the area vigorously while you run water over it or hold it under the water. Increase the temperature slowly over time. Another point. This WILL hurt. It will hurt A LOT but you need to keep going. It hurts because your nerves are thawing out and you are regaining circulation. This is normal and GOOD. If it hurts you know the area is slowly thawing out.

If you don't have access to water, rub the affected area a lot, massage it and work the skin and muscle. The friction will slowly thaw it out through heat and you will need to keep doing it to ensure it thaws out completely. Once again this will hurt but you need to push through it to ensure you retain functionality of that area be it your hands or feet or fingers or toes.

What do do to prep your house for freezing temps.

First thing you need to do, especially because in the south your houses are not built for freezing temps is to drip your taps. All the taps in your house should be dripping hot and cold water. This will prevent your pipes from freezing.

Also open your cupboards under your sink to help prevent the pipes from freezing. If you are concerned about it still freezing you can use cardboard to wrap them, it's not the greatest for insulation as it's not built specifically for it but it will work in a pinch to keep your pipes from freezing. You can also wrap some cotton batting around them BEFORE you do the cardboard to insulate even better.

Then we move onto draft proofing your home. If your house is drafty it will get cold VERY quickly, especially when you have freezing wind blowing. So for your windows, hang dark blankets up to cover the windows, this will help prevent drafts and the darker colour will absorb heat that will be help keep your house a touch warmer.

For your doors, roll up towels and put them at the bottom of your doors to help stop drafts from coming in or out. If you are leaking around the edges, if you have it, staple double over plastic to over hang the door to isolate the draft to the door itself. If you don't, hang a blanket to cover the door completely. This will block the draft and keep the cold from coming in and the heat from escaping.

What do do if your power goes out.

First thing you are going to do is bring everyone into a single room, if you can centralize the room to be in the middle of the house, that's even better as the cold will take much longer to reach it. As you do that, close all the door you can and then you are going to amp up your space to help retain heat. So you are going to cover the door with a blanket and you are going to bring as many blankets as possible into that space.

You are going to stay there with everyone and eat and sleep in this room TOGETHER. Your body heat will keep the room warm and if you insulate it properly it will retain that heat. If you notice a wall is super cold, hang a blanket up on it, if you notice a draft, stuff it with a towel or hang a blanket up on it.

You want the room to be as insulated as possible. And yes I include pets with this so bring in their food and water dish and if it's a cat bring in toys and their litter box.

For light, use flashlights or camping lights. If you have kerosene lamps use those, but generally use candles. Make sure they are high off the ground, not where they can tip over, and make sure they have a plate or a tray underneath then so that if they DO tip you won't catch anything on fire or get wax every where. Remember that crayons can be used as candles, and if you shove a candle in a can of Crisco that shit will burn for like six days straight. Also if you have an orange, cut it in half, take the pulp out, pour in a little cooking oil into the half a peel (make sure the flash point of the oil is high so it doesn't catch fire), and then stick a small candle in the middle, this will give you a large amount of burn time for a small candle.

For heat. There are several methods you can use to heat up a space, one is you take a tiny can, put a toll of toilet paper inside of it, then you dump isopropyl alcohol (min 70%) over the roll until it's soaked, and then light it on fire. This will provide both light and heat for several hours.

If you want to double that heat, take a terra cotta pot or a metal pot and have it slightly over top of the can. NOT covering the fire but resting slight over top of it so the rim of the terracotta pot or the metal pot it level with the edge of the candle. If you have several of those, you will heat the space rather quickly.

If you have a woodburning stove or a fireplace, then use that! Just make sure you have your chimney unobstructed donut draws properly and for all burning types of heat ALWAYS HAVE A CARBON MONOXIDE ALARM. If you DON'T then make sure your space is ventilated.

Also never fall asleep while the fire is going. So candles, your little flame heaters, ect.

Keeping yourself warm at night.

The absolute BEST blankets to use to wrap up in are sleeping bags. Use them on-top of all your other blankets and they will keep your heat in so much better than anything else. They are specifically designed for colder weather and keeping you warm.

Keep your feet warm. The best and easiest solution to this is to make a 'bed rock'. Back in the old times people used to warm up rocks and stones and stick them at the end of their bed underneath their covers to keep them warm. We can mimic that by using hot packs, so those little plastic bean filled baggies that you warm up in the microwave. Pop those into the microwave for two minutes and stick them at your feet under your blankets and you will have warm feet for up to three or four hours.

If you don't have a heat pack, that's fine! You can make one with a sock, rice, and a hair elastic. Fill your sock with rice, tie it closed with the elastic and there you go! Homemade heat pack (I actually made one this winter when our power went off. It makes a WORLD of difference.)

If you are stuck outside in the freezing cold (and can't get into a shelter).

Layer your clothes and if you are still cold, crumple up newspaper and stick it between the layers. This will act as a insulator to keep your body heat in. You need to stay warm. It's easier to stay warm than it is to warm up.

Try and get access to a tent and a sleeping bag will increase your chances of staying warm. You need shelter and a tent with a sleeping bag is the best way to do that. If you have shelter you can survive but if it's snowing do NOT let snow accumulate on your tent. This can block air flow and can cause your tent to collapse.

Sleep on something that protects you from the ground. Even if you have to layer cardboard to keep the cold away from you, do so.

If you have no shelter, you can make one using cardboard boxes. Find a large box if you can, then a smaller one that fits inside of it but still fits you. Once you have them, find a place that is sheltered from the wind and then place your boxes so that the opening it towards the shelter and then shove crumpled newspaper in the space between the boxes to provide insulation and while it's not pretty, it will work in a pinch. If you want too insulate it more, put plastic over the boxes and then pile snow on the sides and a thin layer on the top. This will insulate your shelter as snow acts as a great insulator.

Buddy up. The more people you find the more heat you can generate. Never be alone out in the cold. It's easier to fall asleep when you shouldn't and you won't have someone else there who can help you if you need it. Have at least someone else with you if you can manage it.

Never go to sleep cold! If you are warm you can stay warm but you can't warm up if you are cold. Doing jumping jacks, rub your legs and arms, do whatever it takes to get warm before you go to sleep.

If it's super cold out, keep moving and find public spaces that are open to get out of the cold. Sometimes it is too cold for you to stop and sleep. You might want too but you can and will die if you do. The cold will kill you quickly and it is better to keep moving to keep yourself safe and awake. If you can find open public buildings, like 24 hour laundry mats or libraries or other buildings like that. Go in to get warm as best as you can and if you can sleep there, do so but you cannot sleep outside if it's too cold.

Stay safe.

This is the biggest piece of advice I can give you. This cold snap is horrible for people who have never experienced it before so stay safe and stay warm. Im worried for you, I'm used to this, you aren't. I love you all and stay safe!