#his garage) and maybe slightly toxic (probably really toxic))

[keeps-ache]

firefox what happened last night

[chris-corner]

Consolation Prize - Part 2 

Pairing:  Max’s Sister Reader x Lewis Hamilton 

Summary: After ignoring you for the whole winter break, Lewis is back for the new season and sees you flirting with someone else. Combined with his frustrations at the underperformance of the W13 and Max taking the lead once again, he just has to show you who you actually belong to. 

Warnings: 18+, sorry guys more hate-fuelled sex but slightly less angry, jealousy sex, just a bit (probably a lot) toxic, fingering and getting eaten out, overstimulation, unprotected sex, light bondage (hands tied to bed), under-negotiated kinks stillI guess, some spitting and slapping.

Notes: Look… I really was going to do a fixit but also there's lots of cute Lewis fics out there and I kinda love the toxic vibes so Im sorry but also not sorry for writing this. Also its filth.

Word Count: 4624

Part 1

Masterlist

The winter break, you have to admit, was pretty fucking painful. You’d sat waiting for a text you were pretty sure was going to come for the first week or so. After all, it was all such a mess that you were sure Lewis would reach out, and then maybe the tight churning feeling in your chest would stop. Maybe then you could talk through what happened and try and figure out a way to move forward. Sure, it still hurt, but you could understand that it was the heat of the moment and Lewis wasn’t in the best mindset, and neither were you. 

When a week passed and you’d still not heard anything you started to panic. After everything you’d been through you thought that you would come out of this okay, that your friendship, your… whatever you were becoming, would mean more to Lewis than this. 

By the time the new season starts, you’re done being sad about it, instead letting the anger curl up and make a home in your chest. Fine, if he wants to act like a dickhead then whatever. You try and convince yourself you don't care, and for the most part it works. You’re not your brother, and if Lewis can’t see that then fuck him. 

Still, when you walk down the paddock on your way to see Max for the second race of the season, your Red Bull jacket half hanging off your shoulders, you can’t help but panic about seeing him. What if he looks at you, what will you do? What if he wants to talk to you? What if he ignores you? The questions won't stop swirling around your head and you’re so close now to passing the Mercedes garage. 

In a desperate move, you spot a Red Bull mechanic also heading your way and you quickly make your way over to him, introducing yourself and slipping your arm into his, linking your bodies together. He looks a little surprised, but doesn’t seem to mind. You’re Max’s little sister, there's a lot you can get away with. 

It’s so hard not to look over at the garage to see if Lewis is there, but you manage it, laughing a little louder than necessary at whatever the guy, whose name you’ve already forgotten, is trying to say. 

If you had, you’d have seen Lewis look up as soon as he heard your laugh, eyes tracking you until you were out of sight, his jaw clenched as he took in the sight of your linked arms and matching Red Bull logos. 

~ 

Honestly, the guy (whose name you still can’t remember but it’s too late to ask now) isn’t all too bad, and you find yourself going along with the back and forth chat that’s been bordering on flirting. He’s new, you find out, and single, you also find out, and not too bad on the eyes. Still, it’s not like he’s Lewis. You can’t help but feel a stab of pain as the thought crosses your mind but the anger rises in you again and you find yourself flirting a little harder. 

Part of you worries it might be a little cruel to string him on like this, but another part of you figures that you probably should work on moving on from whatever that shitshow with Lewis was, and even though it would probably piss Max off, why not this guy. (You don’t even let yourself think about how mad he’d be if he knew everything that went down last season.) 

It just happens to be perfect luck that the few times you see Lewis over the weekend are the times in which the dude is really trying his best to flirt with you, and if you lean into it a little bit when you catch him looking who can blame you. 

It all comes to a head when someone grabs you by the arm and roughly pulls you into a side room as you’re making your way to meet Max at the media pen. 

“What-” You start, shoving the arm off of you before you realise who it is. 

Lewis. 

He looks at you, jaw clenched, and you feel your breath leave you. God you want him so badly, still, after everything. He’s in his white mercedes shirt, clashing with your Red Bull team jacket, and his hand is still gripping your arm. 

“What are you doing?” He asks sharply, his voice low. 

You take a breath, composing yourself before you say something stupid. Remembering your anger as you look at his fury. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I needed your permission to come to races now.” You snark out. 

“No.” He snaps. “What are you doing with him?”

Your eyes widen, oh. Is he jealous? 

“Why do you care? It’s none of your business Lewis, you made that really fucking clear?” 

He pushes you up against the back of the door, his body pressing into you as he clashes his mouth against yours, biting at your lip and before you know it you’re kissing him back, kicking yourself for giving in so quickly. He slides his knee between your legs and your breath hitches in your throat. He smirks against your lips, moving to bite at your throat as he makes his way up to your ear. 

“Do you really think he can give you what you need you little slut?” 

It really should feel more insulting. Your anger hasn’t fully gone away and yet here he is, acting like he has the right to be jealous, calling you a slut like this is what you do. 

Instead you let out a breathy whine in the shape of his name. 

Just like that he’s gone. His hands, which were around your waist, his mouth, the press of his body all gone. You stumble forward a bit, looking over to see him standing a few paces away from you, a frown still on his face. 

“Come to mine, later tonight.” He says, the words coming out more like a demand. 

“Fuck you Lewis.” You say back, suddenly feeling like you could cry but you refuse to give him the satisfaction. 

He clocks the change and something close to guilt flashes across his face watching you shuffle to compose yourself. 

“I..” He starts but you quickly interrupt him. 

“No Lewis you can’t do this. You can't… after everything that happened, after you just left me like that and didn't call or text or anything.” 

“I needed space.” He says, but he sounds unsure now. “Look, will you just come to mine after the race tonight, please.” 

You take a breath. You’re pretty sure it’s a terrible, terrible idea but maybe you can talk it out, maybe you can work past this. “Okay Lew.” You say softly. 

“Make sure nobody sees you.” He frowns and tags on, like being seen with you would be the worst possible thing in the world. You feel the stab of hurt again and quickly push it down. 

Then just like that he turns and leaves, brushing his hand gently against your arm as he does with a small smile. 

~

You hesitate before knocking, pretty sure this is a terrible decision. Max had won the race, Lewis had come p10, struggling pretty much all through the race. You know he’d seen you celebrating with Max. You made eye contact with him as the guy from earlier picked you up and swirled you in the air, letting you down in a way that brushed your whole body against his. Still, despite everything your eyes locked with Lewis. 

He looked furious. 

You didn't even know if his offer would still stand, and if it did, you’re pretty sure he’s not going to want to sit down and talk things out after all that. 

Yet, here you are, standing in front of his door. 

It’s fucked up. You know it is. You know that if you go in that it's just going to end in upset and hurt. But then again, you also haven’t been able to get the memory of his cock filling you out of your head, nor the way he slapped your ass and fucked your throat. Before you know it you’re knocking, squirming and pressing your thighs together with anticipation. 

He looks surprised to see you when he finally opens the door, and you feel your heart rate spike with the thought that you might have made a terrible mistake, but he quickly grabs your arm and pulls you inside. 

“I didn’t think you’d come.” He says once the doors are closed. 

You take a breath. “I’m sorry about your race.” 

It seems to have the opposite effect to what you wanted. His face heardens and his jaw clenches slightly. 

“You seemed to be having fun regardless.” He grits out. “Why are you here? Did your mechanic not put out in the end?” 

It’s needlessly cruel, but you feel yourself squirming at his words. His eyes darken as he notices, and he moves forward to crowd into your space. 

“Or do you know that he can’t give you what you need like I can?” 

Okay then, talking like adults is off the table, toxic sex it is. 

“I distinctly remember not getting what I needed last time Lewis.” You quip, goading him with the reminder of how he didnt let you cum. 

“If we’re going to do this we need a safeword.” He tells you, seemingly ignoring your dig, 

It’s as close to an admission that you’re going to get. As close to him acknowledging how fucked up this is. Still, it settles something in you that despite all of this, Lewis is still Lewis under it all. He’s still the guy you fell for. That if you backed down, told him how you felt, that maybe things would be different, 

Still, you don't want to take the risk, and the heat between your legs is screaming at you to stay quiet. 

“Ferrari.” You say, needing something that’s not going to come up in conversation, something Lewis won’t use to dig at you when he fucks you, something thats not Mercedes or Red Bull connected. 

He nods his agreement, before guiding you into the bedroom. 

Your heart is racing as he wordlessly shrugs your Red Bull jacket off, placing it down on the bed before slipping your top off too. It’s almost cold and methodical but then he runs his fingers over the thin fabric of your bra and you gasp as your nipples begin to harden at the touch.

He pulls you into a kiss, biting almost bruisingly at your lip and slipping his tongue over it a second later, all the while slipping his hand down to unbutton your jeans. You help him, shimmying your trousers down and stepping out of them before pushing back up to capture his lips in yours. 

It feels almost normal, almost like everything you wanted as he unhooks your bra and you let it fall between you, grabbing onto his arms and feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch. 

Until it doesn't. 

He pulls back just as quickly as he did earlier, leaving you standing there exposed, nipples hardening with the cool air, in just your panties. 

“Get on the bed.” He instructs, voice harsh.

You scramble to comply, lying on your back and looking over at him as he grabs your jacket, 

“Might as well make this thing useful.” He laughs. “Hands together above your head, grab the frame.” 

You do it and he smirks down at you as he uses the arms of the jacket to tie your hands to the bed frame. 

“What a sight.” He says, leaning back and admiring his work, looking at you laid out in front of him without a protest. “I almost want to take a picture.” 

He looks at you, a clear question in his eyes and when you say nothing he smirks, getting out his phone and clicking a few pictures of just your hands, tied up with the Red Bull jacket clearly identifiable. He doesnt get your face or you’re body in though, and you can't help but let out a small sigh of relief. 

“I wonder what the team would say if they saw that.” He teases. “Maybe I ought to send it to them, show them what a slut their golden boy's little sister is. Maybe I should send it.” 

“Lewis.” You warn, but his words make you squirm. He puts his phone down but doesn't let up. 

“I bet you’re getting off on this aren’t you. I bet your little pussy is soaking already.” 

“Lewis.” You repeat, but this time it comes out much more of a whine.

He smirks, shoving your legs apart and manhandling you into the position he needs to settle between them. It hits something at your core, being treated like this, like a moveable little doll. 

“Seen as though you didn't get to cum last time, how about we see just how many times you can come tonight.” He smirks. “I want to see you cry for me.” 

“But first.” He says. “I want you to beg for it.”

He brushes his hand up your thigh, across the seam of your underwear and up to your chest. He takes his time teasing your nipples, running his fingers over them and pinching at them slightly before leaning down and taking one into his mouth. You arch your back up, moaning as he bites down before soothing it with his tongue. His other hand reaches between your legs, a feathery brush against your clothed pussy. 

“Lewis please.” You cry out, trying to push up into him but he moves his hand away. 

He pauses, moving to bite at your neck collar bone. “Not good enough.” 

He moves over to your other nipple, repeating the process and pressing against your with a light touch again. 

“Lewis I need you in me please, I need you to fuck me.” 

He pinches your inner thigh, right at the seam of your underwear as he bites down a little harder on your sensitive nipple, the other still hard and cold from where his spit has been left on it. 

“Lewis, come on please. I want you to fuck me. No one else can Lewis, just you. I need your cock so badly.”

He pulls of you with a smirk, running his thumbs over both of your sensitive wet nipples to see you squirm against the restraints before he moves down between your legs, 

“You beg like a whore.” He tells you plainly, not even looking at you as he holds your legs apart. You feel shame welling up inside of you but it’s quickly tempered by lewis pressing against your covered pussy, watching as the fabric darkens with your wetness, 

“Look at that. Soaking already. I knew you would be.”

Without much warning, he pushes two of his fingers into you, over the fabric so that the roughness pushes into you as he uses his other hand to brush over your covered fabric. 

“I want you to cum like this.” He says over your moans. “I want you to cum into your panties like a desperate little toy, needy enough that you’ll cum before I can even get them off you.” 

He presses into you a little harder, jamming them inside of you as he quickens his pace. 

It’s embarrassing, the way his words, this situation, his fingers on and pressing into you get you worked up so quickly, but before you know it you’re cumming, soaking your panties around his fingers as you do. Red hot shame fills you at the speed it took for him to get you off, and you can feel the blush rising on your chest and face. 

“Wow.” He laughs at you. “That really was quick wasn't it, you must be really desperate for it.”

He slips your underwear off, and looks at them contemplatively. 

“Open your mouth.” 

He balls up the soaking wet fabric and presses it into you, making you taste yourself as you lay there, tied up and fully naked, cunt dripping and your underwear shoved in your mouth. He looks at you with pure lust in his eyes.

“Actually,” He tilts his head. “I think I'd rather hear you.” 

He pulls the panties out of your mouth and throws them over the side of the bed, smirking as he watches you close your mouth and taste yourself. It’s ridiculous how he’s just treating this like a game, just using you in whatever way he wants for his own amusement, like you’re just there as a little sex toy for him to position and play with until he gets exactly what he wants, no regard for how humiliating it is for you, 

He spreads your legs again, gently pulling you apart so he can look at your dripping wet pussy. Then, without any warning, he leans over and spits directly onto your cunt, watching it drip down your folds and mix with your wetness. 

“Fucking filthy.” He mutters following the spit with his fingers, running them down your pussy and fucking them straight into you, ignoring your gasp as he brushes over your sensitive clit. 

He fucks into you with quick harsh strokes, grabbing your inner thigh with his other hand to keep you spread wide and pressed into the bed. It feels amazing to finally have him inside of you, even if it's just his fingers. 

“Look at you laying there taking it. Taking whatever I give you huh?” 

“Yeah.” You breath out,

He moves to thumb over your clit again, and you clench around him as you let out a high pitched whine.

“What do you say?” 

“Thank you.” You gasp out as he thumbs your clit. 

He smirks. 

“What’s his name?” 

You can't quite grasp what he’s asking, the pleasure you’re feeling under his hands almost too much. “What?” 

“The mechanic you couldn't keep your hands off all weekend. What. Is. His. Name.” 

He punctuates his words with thrusts of his fingers right into your dripping cunt. 

“I don’t know.” You gasp out. 

“You don't know?” 

“No I, I think he told me …but I forgot. I don’t know.” You try. 

“You don’t…” He lets out a cruel mocking laugh. “You’re such a whore, giving it up for anyone aren’t you, don’t even have to know their name.” He pauses, but his fingers don't. “Or were you just doing it to fuck with me? Is it not enough that the car is shit? Is it not enough that Max is fucking humiliating me on track? Do you have to fuck with me too? Get inside my mind and make me jealous and pissed off?”

He seems to be getting into his monologue, fucking his fingers into you faster, curling them up inside you as he brushes your clit with his thumb faster. 

“If you’re such a good fucking team how about every time Max wins on the track you let me fuck your little cunt exactly how I want. That’s fair don't you think?” 

Not really, you think, it’s not fair at all, it’s incredibly fucked up. 

He pauses after he’s said it, hands stilling, looking at you as if he knows that he’s gone too far. 

Contrary to everything you should be feeling, his words make you moan and tighten around him, so maybe you’re just as fucked yourself. At your noise he starts fucking you again, the pressure on your clit and the effect of his words pushing you to the edge. The idea is so incredibly bad but also if you got to do this more then of course you were going to take it. You came here today after all. 

“Okay. Yeah.” You whine out, and without warning you feel yourself pushed over the edge, tightening around his fingers as he drags yet another orgasm from you. 

“I can't believe.” He grunts out, fucking into you still as you scream his name. “That you think you’re a good enough consolation prize.” 

It’s cruel, but you’re pretty sure it's just all part of the game. Although the words are sharp and cutting, there's not the same anger there was before in Abu Dhabi. 

“Lewis please.” You squirm, the feeling too much for you now. Everything is too sensitive. 

Instead of letting up though, he leans down and runs his tongue over your cunt, pressing into your folds and dragging against your clit hard enough to make you shout out, 

He pulls away. “You’re ruining my sheets.” He comments, looking at the pool of slick beneath you, before leaning back in to suck at your oversensitive clit. 

You can't help the noises that are falling out of your mouth, a mindless babble of choked sobs and whines and half formed protests. It’s surely only a few minutes at most but it feels like an hour of overstimulation before he stops again. 

“Fuck. You look so fucking hot when you cry.”

You didn't even notice the tears running down your face until he pointed them out, desperate and frantic. 

“What's up baby?” He mocks, voice laced with condescension. “This is what you wanted isn't it? To cum? You asked for this.” 

You can't even protest anymore, just let out a choked sobbing noise as he thumbs at your clit before pressing his hot wet mouth against you again, flicking his fingers up unrelentingly as you strain against your tied hands. 

“You know, I was going to make you cum again before I fucked you but I think I want to see you cry while you cum on my cock.” 

He gets undressed finally, stripping out of everything this time and you look at him through tear streaked eyes, watching the way his muscles flex as he slips out of his underwear and palms his rock hard cock. 

Wasting no time at all, he runs his cock up against your sensitive cunt, coating himself in your wetness while you wiggle your hips up, desperate for it both to stop and for him to fill you up. You quickly get your wish as he pushes inside of you 

“Fuck you’re so tight still.” He practically growls out when he slips inside of you, despite everything the stretch of his cock still pulls at you and you throw your head back and moan at the feeling. 

“Just you Lewis.” You choke out. “Just you.”  

You hope he gets what you mean. That despite everything that happened you haven't been with anyone since him. You havent fucked your way around the Red Bull mechanics. 

“That's my good little slut.” He praises, fucking into you hard. 

He runs his hand up to your chest, palming your tits before gently slapping one, watching as it bounces under his hand. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out. “Can I?” 

You don't know why he's asking now, after just doing everything before this, but you can't help but smile at the wonder in his voice, the uncharacteristically gentle question. 

“Please.” 

He repeats the action a little harder, the sound of the slap loud in your ears as he continues to fuck into you, groaning as you tighten around him. You think he’s going to do it again but he just thumbs your nipple, rolling and pinching it between his fingers before he leans down and takes it into his mouth. 

He sits back up, watching your chest bounce as he thrusts into you before pausing to spit on your other nipple, thumb immediately running through the wetness, before following it with him mouth, gently biting at it. 

It’s so good that you feel yourself getting close to the edge again. 

“Lewis, Lewis I’m..” You choke out, and he gets the message, pulling back and moving your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, pressing you forward as he fucks into you deeper. 

He snakes his hand around to find your clit, quickly flicking between feathery touches and hard presses, unrelenting until you finally break. 

This time, it's almost painful when you cum, the pleasure ripped out from your core as you clench around him, tears falling from your face as you cry out his name in a choked sob. 

“There you go.” He says affectionately, then, with more bite, “that wasn't so hard was it.” 

He pulls out of you and runs a hand up your cunt, collecting your wetness and watching as fresh tears fall when he rubs against your clit, your cunt shaking under his touch.

He grabs your tit roughly, smearing your own wetness on your chest. Grinning down at his work, he does it again, watching you whimper for him before he spits down on your chest for good measure. 

He quickly unties your hands, directing you to hold your tits together for him, which you do even though your arms feel a little numb from being tied. He gets between you, dick still wet from your cunt, and thrusts up between your tits, fucking them as you lay there, teary eyed beneath him. 

He’s just made you cum three times, using your body however he wanted, playing with you like you were just there for his amusement, a little, what did he call you, consolation prize to make him feel better. This really seals it for you, him fucking up into your tits just because he can, knowing that youll press them together like a good little girl for him, your own wetness acting as lube. 

“Open your mouth,” He says, breath heavy and voice strained, and you do, letting him fuck up and brush the tip of his cock against your tongue. 

That must do it for him, because before you know it he’s paining your tits and your face with him cum, groaning as he watches you take it. 

It’s humiliating, you think, but mostly, mostly it’s really fucking hot. 

He moves off of you, looking down at you before swiping his cum off your cheek. You briefly think it’s a rather caring move, before he shoves his fingers into your mouth for you to clean them, repeating the action until you’ve taken it all, swallowing it down like a good little slut for him. 

“Shit.” He says, laughing a little as he sits back against the bed. 

“Yeah.” You say a little breathless. 

You sit in silence for a while, recovering with his body a warm solid presence next to you. At one point he slips his hand over yours, threading your hands together. 

“You okay?” He asks eventually, his voice a little unsure. 

“Yeah.” You smile up at him, tired and exhausted. “You?”

“Yeah,” 

It’s not the talk you envisioned coming into this, but it’s something. 

“Can I use your shower before I go?” You ask, blushing slightly. 

He laughs a little, running his fingers briefly over your sticky chest. “Yeah, of course.” 

When you get out of the shower, he’s not in the bedroom anymore, so you quickly get changed, stuffing your ruined panties into your pocket and grabbing your jacket. 

You find him in the living room, and he watches you as you make your way towards the door. 

“I meant it, you know. About fucking you every time he wins.” He says before you open the door. 

So maybe you’re not as okay as you thought. Still, you can't help but be a little thrilled at the outcome. 

He raises his eyes as a challenge. 

“So did I.” You wink, quickly slipping out of the door before he can reply. 

Looks like you’ll be coming to a lot more races this season then, you know, just in case they don’t fix those porpoising issues… 

[tvitr]

uwu I don’t make the ruwules

(Okay fine, reasons/opinions below the cut but be warned! I won’t be holding back on game or book spoilers. Or rambling. This got longer than I anticipated lol)

BETTER IN THE BOOK

Eis “Fireman Sam” Glover: I don’t know what the game was trying to do with this one. I guess he gets overwhelmed by the fire and loses his composure or gets scared or... something?  Also why did he not bring a hose. Or a mask.  This is why so many reviewers thought Wonderworld was a metaphor for purgatory and all the inhabitants are dead I swear. Who cares, the book handled it a lot better. I wouldn’t say it’s perfect, but there’s definitely a good idea here with some interesting themes. The gist is that he feels ashamed following his captain’s orders to retreat during a serious blaze, which his colleagues disobeyed, and his colleagues are later hailed as heroes by the press.  Is Balan the Book trying to take on toxic masculinity...? How brave. Tl;dr, the book conveyed the story a Hell of lot better than the game. Honestly I’m surprised this is the only one.

BETTER IN THE GAME

Haoyu “Airplane Boi” Chang: So the book tried waaaay too hard to draw a parallel between Haoyu and Fiona (aka, Dolphin Girl) to the point that they both share a similar backstory, in that they had a hobby which led to a near-fatal accident and now they’re too traumatised to resume said hobby. And that’s not a bad thing per se but... “near fatal accident” was already Fiona’s backstory. We didn’t need a duplicate. And this is more personal preference, but I kinda liked Haoyu’s story in the game anyway. His failure at building a functioning aeroplane out of crap he found in his garage is endearingly funny in the game, and the resolution of him taking time out to sit down and study before building anything is a nice spin on the whole “if at first you don’t succeed” theme the chapter wanted. 

Sana “Bird Lady” Hudson: So the book decided they didn’t want to make Cal an angry sore loser so guess what? They made Sana an angry misanthrope. Wonderful. Okay maybe that’s harsh, but she definitely came off as very bitter and unsympathetic in the book. Like there’s a scene at the end where she harasses a firefighter and tries to steal a fire engine because they’re working on a building fire and not supervising her park. That’s not a character you wanna root for. That’s a Karen. The game had a better plot thread and resolution to her story rather than a boring cookie-cutter “humans vs. nature grrrr humans are so evil” story, like the game story here had a bit more depth to it and approached the topic more maturely than the book did. Which is ironic considering how hilariously edgy the book gets sometimes, but I guess throwing a few smashed eggs and frozen bird skeletons into your story doesn’t mean anything if you’re still going to paint such a black-and-white narrative.

Iben “Frozen Elsa” Bia: This story didn’t need dialogue. Like... we don’t need her to justify why she’s upset her parents are dead because we’d already assume that. They’re her parents! Of course we’d assume she’d be upset! They died! Simultaneously! That’s horrible! WE DON’T NEED HER TO EXPLAIN THIS! Also her dialogue in the book was... pretty terrible, not gonna lie. Like if you’re gonna insist on dialogue at least make it gOOD. I’m actually planning on just reviewing her book scene so I can fully articulate just how bad it is anyway, so stay tuned for that mess lol.

FINE IN BOTH

I mean there’s not really too much to say here but anyways:

Jose/”The Farmer” having a family in the book gives him a bit more depth, even if we never hear from them again after his backstory dump.

Fiona/”Dolphin Girl” almost drowns in a slightly different way, with a dolphin straight up pulling her mask off rather than knocking it out of her mouth, and the book also goes more into detail about her love for diving and dolphins. Also the book ships her and Haoyu like. So hard. Like they never shut up about how similar they are or what they other’s doing or if the other’s okay or not. By the end of it I was expecting them to just start making out in front of everyone, they’re that obsessed with each other. And it would be funny if they didn’t use this to wreck Haoyu’s backstory like I mentioned earlier.

Yuri/”Bug Kid”/”Is that a Pokémon reference?” is now being kinda bullied for liking bugs, which yeah gives her more depth and reason to be upset but I also kinda related to her just being that One Kid with interests that nobody else had. But it’s not as bad as some of the other changes, so I can let it slide.

Atillio/Clown and Bruce/Old Man are the same, nothing to say here.

Lucy/”The Artist” is a total drama queen but then again so are Art People so I can let it slide. I did like them changing her problem from “artist’s block” (seriously?) to her feeling too under pressure to create masterpieces, unless that’s what the game was aiming for? Oh who cares.

JUST A BIG MESS

Cass “Dead Cat Girl” Milligan: This is a weird one because the story is the same between the game and book (though the book mentions she witnessed a more severe car accident rather than a speeding car which she assumes kills the cat, and the cat isn’t even her cat, it’s a stray) but the story itself is... flawed. According to the book, they wanted to convey the idea that running away from the accident was irresponsible, and she just needed to look back and she’d see her cat is okay, but the game kind of makes it look more like Balan turned back time to save her cat, and the book mentions a serious car crash which I don’t think anyone would willingly return to. I feel there’s a better way to convey this idea of being responsible for your pets, like say her cat escapes from the house and gets lost, and her resolution is going out and properly looking for it. That’s a more effective (and natural) way to relay that message, especially as they weren’t going to commit to the idea of grieving a lost pet.

I’M CONFLICTED

Cal “Chess Daddy” Suresh: God this was a tough call. On one hand Cal’s game backstory is one of the ones most YouTube players single out as the weakest backstory in the game. He’s just “that guy who lost one game of chess”. Being right before Iben’s level certainly doesn’t help. I could honestly write a separate post about how bad the story placements are in this game but that’s too long for here.  On the other hand, I still... kinda like it? Like I like this idea of him being a sore loser with a bad temper who needs to learn some humility, sure it’s not as serious as “I almost drowned” or “my parents are dead” but one of the few good things about the game is that it balanced “serious” stories with “benign” ones, if that makes sense. HOWEVER His book scene is... probably one of the best written in the whole book. Which isn’t saying much, but it felt like it hit the intended degree of darkness that the rest of the book was trying to hit. One of my main issues with the book is how much it edged up everyone’s backstory, which doesn’t sound bad but when you have 12 characters with edgy backstories to sit through, it starts to feel like a 14 year old's first attempt at writing an angsty fanfiction very quickly. And yes, Cal’s story is dark and angsty but it felt like the perfect balance of dark and angsty. Or as perfect as the book can get. Like even Balan’s annoying rhyming dialogue sounded good for the tone of the scene. Man maybe I should just do a review of both his backstories in a bigger post.  Obviously I could be biased because I’m a sucker for chess aesthetics and dark skinned men with long permed hair so I’m just putting more thought into him but still.

[willykappymarnsmatts]

Angels Like You (Can’t Fly Down Here With Me)(A.Matthews/M.Marner)(Chapter 1)

Auston and Mitch are as close as best friends can be. In fact, if their teammates didn’t know any better, they would probably think they were together. But Mitch has a girlfriend. And Auston is straight.

As far as they know.

Of course, Auston has been in the closet since his third year of high school, and nobody except his sisters and his mom know that he actually is gay. Not even Mitch. And nobody in the world knows he has a crush on a guy.

Nobody knows he’s had a crush on this guy since his first year in the NHL with the Toronto Maple Leafs. Not even his best friend. 

Because it is his best friend.

It’s a heart wrenching, I-think-my-chest-might-explode-because-I’m-so-in-love-with-you type of love, and it’s been slowly killing Auston since he was 19 years old. Nothing he does, nobody he meets, is able to staunch the bleeding of his poor, hopeless heart. When he looks at Mitch, it feels like his heart is both swelling with adoration and being stabbed with about a million knives at once. Because he loves him, he adores him, but he’s not allowed to have him. He's so far out of reach it's almost funny just how much Auston really loves him. Almost.

And lately it's been killing him more than usual because he just knows he would treat him so much better than his toxic girlfriend does. She treats him like garbage every single day, ruins Mitch's self esteem and happiness, and still somehow makes Mitch believe he deserves it. She's manipulative and mean and dishonest and terrible for Mitch. Auston wants so badly to swoop in and take Mitch away from her, to show him just what he really deserves, but he can’t, because despite the pain in his eyes, every single day he is adamant that he’s “endlessly happy with Monica.” Yeah, right.

Then one day, Will catches up to Auston after practice with a look on his face so mixed with different emotions it's unreadable. “We have to do something,” Will pants, out of breath from running to catch Auston before he was able to get into his car and drive away. 

“What are you talking about?” Auston doesn’t know whether he should be concerned or whether he should laugh at the mess Will is at the moment.

“About Mitch, you idiot. We have to get him to break up with her. Just now, after you left the room, that bitch came in and told Mitch he can’t be friends with you anymore.”

That hits Auston like a bullet in his chest. He feels the shock in the throbbing of his head, in the clenching of his muscles, and in his hands balling into fists. He shuts his eyes tight and takes a breath to gain composure, then opens his eyes and nods at his friend. “What did he say?” His voice comes out almost like a whisper, as if he’s afraid to even ask the question, terrified of what the answer might be.

“He didn't know what to say, man. You know he loves you, but Monica has him tied around her little finger.” Will stares at Auston with so much sympathy in his eyes it takes all Auston’s will not to break down right there. This year, Will has glued himself to Auston’s hip in an effort to remain somewhat grounded while the Leafs ripped his best friend, Kasperi, away from him. They’ve always been close, but now Auston sees him about as much as he sees Mitch, if not more in the past few weeks. “Then he just nodded. The whole room went silent and I put my shit on and ran out to catch you before you left. I knew you’d want to know, since-”

 “I’m in love with him.” The words are out of Auston’s mouth before he can stop them.

Will is silent for a beat, and Auston almost regrets not catching the words before they fell out of his mouth. Almost, since the relief he feels after finally voicing his feelings might just make him collapse.

“What are you talking about?” Will laughs under his breath and adjusts his hockey bag on his shoulder. He quickly realizes Auston isn't kidding, and his face goes slack. “You’re in love with Mitch? I didn't even know you swing that way.” Auston has to make a conscious effort to keep the smile off his face that’s threatening to show Will just how ridiculous his incredibly intelligent vocabulary sounds, but manages when he thinks about the fact that he might be losing his best friend and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Nobody does, I wasn't even going to tell you.”

Will puts on a show of being mock-hurt, but then immediately wraps his arms around his best friend in Toronto. “Hey, that's cool. That's totally cool. And I totally see why. I mean, Mitch is cute!”

Auston shakes his head as Will pulls away, but he's smiling. It’s the first real smile that’s crossed his face that day, and he silently thanks whatever God there is for bringing Will into his life. “Yeah, um, what do you think we should do, then?” 

“I have no idea, I was hoping you had a plan, but I guess not.”

“Do you think we could convince him that she’s not worth it?” Auston asks, but he knows that would never work.

“I guess we have to break them up somehow. Maybe you show him how much it hurts you that he would even consider leaving you for her.”

“Or maybe I let him make his own decision and he’ll figure out whether he really needs me or not.” As the words leave his mouth, his heart shatters, but he knows it's the right thing to do. Not just because he loves Mitch and he doesn't want to ruin whatever happiness he has with his girlfriend, but also because if it's what Mitch really wants, nothings going to stop him from doing it. Not even Auston. And that's part of the reason he loves him so much.

Will nods, and the slam of a car door makes the two of them jump and turn towards the direction of the noise. They go in search of the sound and find a distraught Mitch, fumbling with his keys, trying to unlock his car door. “Mitch what-” Auston starts, but he gets cut off with the sound of a heartbreaking sob leaving Mitch’s lips.

“Monica and I broke up. She said she didn’t want me to be friends with you anymore, and you’re my best friend, so I could never let that happen. At first I said yes, and I’m sorry I said yes Auston, I’m so sorry, but then I realized what the fuck I was doing and I knew I couldn’t and she’s gone.”

Mitch continues to ramble on, and Auston and Will exchange a worried glance. Mitch drops his keys and looks at the ceiling, the underground garage lights reflecting off his glassy, tear-filled eyes, before starting to lean down to grab them, but before he has the chance Auston drops his hockey bag and lunges forward to wrap Mitch in his arms. Sobs rack his body, and Auston holds on tight. Mitch’s head is nestled in the crook of Auston’s neck and he feels his hoodie start to soak with tears, but he doesn't care. He doesn’t give a single thought to anything else in the world other than the boy in his arms. Mitch bunches up Auston’s hoodie in his hands in an effort to ground himself, and Auston’s heart breaks and swells in the same moment. It’s a type of pain he’s never felt before. Auston has no idea how long the two of them stand there, but by the time Mitch releases his grip on him, Willy is long gone. Mitch stares up at Auston, his red, glassy eyes flitting back and forth over Auston’s. He’s so close Auston can feel his breath on his lips, and he wants nothing more than to close the small space between them and kiss him, to make him forget about everything that’s wrong in the world just for a second. But he stops himself, and the moment passes just as quickly as it came. Mitch shakes his head slightly and forces a sad smile up at his friend, then grabs his keys from the ground. 

“Goodnight, Aus,” is all Mitch says before getting in his car and driving away without looking back. 

“Goodnight,” Auston replies into the now almost empty parking garage as he watches Mitch drive off. And the thought passes through his head that maybe Mitch wanted him to kiss him, too. But it can’t be possible. He’s making things up to make himself feel better, to try to tape up the cracks in his heart that formed as soon as he saw Mitch in shambles. It’s not going to work, though, so he wipes the stray tear that’s begun to fall down his cheek and lifts the strap of his bag up over his shoulder. He runs his hands through his hair and takes a deep breath. Mitch doesn’t love him. The idea that he ever would is stupid and only exists inside his head, because why the hell would he. It’s the cold, hard truth, and Auston has to learn to accept it.

But for one more night, he’ll let himself hurt over it.

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

Shine your light on me

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Reader has a relapse and depression is washing over her again but this time, she has JJ by her side, an unexpected soldier to help her fight the war inside her head.

Warnings: Mention of depression, self harm and scars

Available on: AO3

A/N: This goes to all the people battling with mental health problems. Take care of yourself, please. You are important and worth it. This fic starts quite heavy with a description of depression and dealing with it but has a sweet ending, so it’s more angsty to fluffy and safe to read if you think you can handle the topics. I don't want to romanticize the subject at all, but you don't win a war alone. Talk to someone if you need help. It doesn't matter if it's a family member, your partner, a friend or a therapist.

------------------------------------

There it was again, that feeling you hated more than anything else.

You’ve been fine for weeks. Everything had been okay and now? Now every joy had been sucked out of you by that void of darkness that was about to swallow you back in.

Your room was dark, you didn’t want to see the sun, you didn’t want to be reminded that it was summer and you were supposed to enjoy this time where you didn’t have to worry about school.

School has always been a constant pressure on you. Get good grades, graduate as the top of the class, be better, do better. You loved your parents dearly but they didn’t understand how much pressure they put on you. The constant reminder that you wouldn’t have a good future without good grades was hanging over you like a dark cloud, following you everywhere.

You’ve pulled so many all-nighters so you’d have enough time to study. You didn’t want to disappoint them, you wanted to make them proud and whenever the grade wasn’t an A you felt like a failure. You didn’t want to fail them, didn’t want to fail you. The fear of not having a good future was always present.

And yet here you were, not being able to do anything because everything had just been too much lately. You wanted to be a good daughter, a good friend, a good student but you failed at all of them with your current behavior. You knew and you hated it.

Thankfully your parents were on a business trip, leaving you alone. You had been fine when they had left two days ago but today you woke up and everything had changed. The darkness that you thought you had left all those months ago was back and it felt like a fist was hitting your stomach over and over again.

You were feeling sick and had no appetize, the night had been shorter than expected and you didn’t even know if you should cry or just lay here like you were paralized. What was the point of even getting up out of bed today?

The phone in your hand told you that it was already past noon and you groaned. You woke up in the early morning hours when the sun was going up and you didn’t do anything yet. There was no energy to get up and get dressed, no energy to shower or make food.

The void was filling you up and you closed your eyes, your thoughts filling up your brain. The memories of the start of your depression came back and you pressed your eyes shut as if that would help them make away.

It didn’t. You saw those memories of sleepless nights, lots of tears and blood running down your arms, it all flashed before your inner eyes. Tears were in your eyes now, as always. It was always starting like that. First you’d just spent hours doing nothing except staring at the ceiling and then you’d think, think, think until you saw all those memories you’ve tried to forget and start crying. After that it only went downhill.

You put an arm over your eyes and felt the wetness run down your cheeks. You didn’t want to be like this, you didn’t want to feel like you were broken and needed fixing once again. Nothing could fix you except yourself but how do you do that with no energy left in your body?

The tears were flowing down your face and you could do nothing to stop that.

“I’m sorry”, you sobbed as if someone would be there to hear you.

It was a sorry to your parents, an apology that you knew you should do better and you knew you should be a better daughter.

It was a sorry to your friends, an apology that you knew you’ve not been the best friend and they have to put up with you anyway.

It was a sorry to your teachers, an apology that you’re not getting the best grades even though they are good at their job.

It was a sorry to yourself, an apology that you had those dark thoughts again and didn’t take care of yourself enough.

When you lifted up your arm you couldn’t see much but you knew those faint scars were there. You were so ashamed of them and yet, there was no way to hide them here in Outer Banks. It was way too hot, you’ve tried wearing a long sleeve at the beginning and were happy about every rainy day so you didn’t need an excuse to wear them and yet, it was hopeless. One day you’d cave and show the world what you had done and you could do nothing against it.

A knock at the door made you groan and you chose to ignore it. Probably just the neighbor wanting to get some milk as usual.

You were really not in the mood and didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. You knew you should to, so you could distract yourself but your head was feeling like it would explode, your nose was closed up from crying and your eyes were probably red like you’ve just taken the longest line of some drugs to fuck you up.

There was this feeling of not wanting to feel at all. The feeling of having too many and too little at once. The feeling of drowning and not being able to breathe or think.

This time it was the doorbell and you pressed your pillow to your face, hoping it would be over soon. It was too loud and thankfully silent after a moment only to hear a knock at your window. You couldn’t see outside, the blinds were down but you wanted to kill that person right now.

“(y/n)? It’s me!”, you heard a male voice and swallowed hard.

It was JJ.

You haven’t been with the Pogues for long as you’ve moved here only a couple of months ago. Your parents had thought that moving could help you get out of your toxic environment and help with those feelings you’ve been feeling back then and it really did, for a while.

Everything had been new and exciting and you had a fresh start away from all the people who knew what you had done, away from eyes that were judging you. And maybe, just maybe, your parents had left because they were ashamed of you too. That’s at least what your head was telling you and you wanted to scream at it to shut up but you knew it wouldn’t.

You were wondering what JJ was doing here, were you supposed to meet? You had become close those last weeks even though you barely hung out with them. It was hard to do with long sleeves or even a long sleeves T-Shirt while everyone else was in bathing suits.

“I know you’re there, can I come in?”, he asked and yeah, of course he would know. Your shoes were outside the front door, your bicycle still leaning against the garage and where else would you be anyway?

‘Suit yourself’ was something you’d say if your throat wasn’t so closed up. You didn’t care if he was here or not, you may not want to see any people but then again, JJ was special. Ever since you’ve met him that blonde boy had made you laugh in a way no one else ever did.

You heard the front door open and still lay in bed without your blanket over you because it was too damn hot but also too cold at the same time. When the door to your room opened you groaned and threw your arm back over your eyes, the light too bright.

“What’s going on?”, he asked as he walked over to the windows to pull the blinds up. You hated him as soon as the room lit up with those beautiful rays of sunshine.

“I’m not feeling well”, you mumbled and he frowned at you, lifting your arm up to put a hand over your forehead.

“No fever at least”, he said and chuckled slightly.

“What do you want here?”, you asked and pulled the blanket back over your body, heating up instantly.

“Just checking on you. We were supposed to meet up four hours ago but you never showed up so I wanted to see if you’re okay”, he explained and looked up and down your body. He was a smart boy, he probably knew that something was wrong.

“Yeah, as I said, I’m not feeling too well but I’ll be fine”, you sighed and gave him a fake smile which made him clench his jaw.

“Tell me what’s going on”, he asked suddenly and you blinked at him confused for a moment before shaking your head.

“As I said, I’ll be fine, nothing is going on.” If there was one thing you could do, it was lying about your current situation. You had been doing that so many times before.

“I’m the master at saying I’m fine even when I’m not. You can’t fool me. A fake smile doesn’t help when your eyes are telling a whole other story.” You swallowed hard at those words and especially when he sat down on your bed, looking sternly at you. You knew about his shitty home life but so far, no one had ever looked behind the facade you were putting on.

Tears started to swell up in your eyes again and he saw that, moving over a little to grab your hand in his. “Hey, you can tell me”, he whispered so carefully as if you might break when he was too loud.

“It’s too much”, you started to sob, not even knowing why exactly you started crying again right now. “I feel like a failure. I can’t do anything right. My depression is coming back and I don’t know how to stop this.”

“Oh, princess”, he whispered and pulled at your hand to make you sit up so you could wrap his arms around your body that seemed so fragile right now. You wrapped your arms around his body too, pressing your against him like he was the only thing that kept you from drowning.

You’ve never told him about your depression, about your dark past and yet, it had kind of all spilled out and he didn’t seem to judge at all.

“C’mon here”, he suddenly said and reached under you to lift you out of bed. You didn’t say anything, just pressing your head against his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t look into your red eyes. You didn’t want him to see you like this and yet, you knew he wouldn’t leave until you’ve felt any better.

Only when your feet touched the cold tiles of the bathroom you opened your eyes again and looked at him. He had a soft smile on his lips while biting his bottom lip.

“You should take a shower”, he simply stated and nodded over to it.

“You saying I stink?”, you said with a sad laugh, trying to cheer up the mood somehow. He gave you a crooked smile and shook his head.

“It’s called hydrotherapy. I’ve uh, heard about it a while back. You have to take a short cold shower, to free up your mind and it also stimulates all those anti-depression hormones. Try it, I’ll wait outside”, he said and patted your head, a touch you’d be missing soon enough.

You’ve never heard of hydrotherapy before but maybe it would help. The fact that he knew about this was quite impressive to you.

When he was about to leave you grabbed his arm to hold on to him. “I can’t.” You bit your bottom lip when he turned around to yourself, you could barely even stand on your own right now, your legs feeling so weak. “Please, stay? I have no energy to do it on my own.”

It was so embarrassing but you’ve told him what was going on, might as well show him the weakness you were feeling deep inside. For some reason, you felt stronger with him by your side.

He nodded and sat down on the bathtub, trying to look away as you tried to take your shirt off but you just let out a frustrated groan when your arms felt like they weren’t even your own limbs anymore.

“May I?”, he suddenly asked and stood up and you just nodded with a whine.

JJ reached for your shirt and pulled it over your head, eyes avoiding to look at your now bare boobs. You appreciated that even though you wouldn’t mind. Maybe it would help with your self confidence if he’d look at you like he wanted you. No one had ever looked at you like that. You’ve never been pretty enough, funny enough, good enough.

He pulled your pants down and you stepped out of them, crawling into the bathtub with the attached showerhead.

“I don’t think I can stand up for so long”, you said as you were crouching in the tub like a little kid. You felt like one, so small, so helpless, at the mercy of your own feelings and weaknesses.

“Alright then but don’t hit me now”, he said with a soft laugh and took his shirt off before getting into the tub and pulling you up. It almost felt like he was pulling you up from your own misery to a safe place, called his arms. He wrapped one arm around you and pressed you close to his body before turning the cold shower on.

You screeched as soon as the cold water hit your skin and he just took in a sharp breath. Your hands clung to him as if letting go would somehow wash you away.

“I fucking hate you”, you mumbled into his chest while your whole body was trembling from the cold but you couldn’t deny that it actually made you feel better, even if it was just a little bit.

“That’s fine with me.” He laughed and pressed a kiss to your head. Suddenly, your body was feeling warm again and you blushed, thankful he couldn’t see it.

The shower didn’t take long and he got out first, lifting you out of it and making sure your feet were on the small carpet in front of the bathtub this time.

He grabbed a towel and didn’t even give it to you but started to dry you up himself. It made you smile because you knew you wouldn’t be able to do it properly.

You closed your eyes when he reached your arms, knowing that he would see those scars there, already expecting a comment about them but he didn’t say a thing during the whole process until he handed you the towel in the end.

“You uh..have to dry the lady parts yourself”, he said with a cough and left the bathroom. You laughed softly at his words and dried the rest of you, wrapping the towel around your body. You could even muster up the strength to brush your hair a little. Daily tasks could sometimes be so overwhelming, so you were proud you managed to do that.

The shower made you feel more awake and more alive but the dark thoughts wouldn’t leave. Memories were still flashing a little before your eyes and you walked out of the bathroom to find JJ. When he was around, it stopped, at least a little.

He was standing in front of your wardrobe and pulled a few things out, carrying them over to your bed.

“I think that should do”, he said and nodded at you with a smile while you took the clothes he had picked. Some of your favourites. Boy had taste. When you looked back at him you saw how he had turned around so he wouldn’t see you get dressed. Silly, he had just seen everything and now he acted like he would see too much?

Thankfully you managed to do it on your own and while you dressed yourself you looked at him, chuckling slightly. “Your pants are dripping on my floor.” He had only taken his shirt off for the shower but not his pants. They were swim trunks but still dripping quite a bit.

“Uh yeah, sorry about that”, he mumbled and you laughed a little, the mood cheering up a little more now. You had no idea what it was about him but when he was here, you felt better. You’ve never realized how he made you feel until today, until the day you needed him the most.

“Okay, done”, you said and sounded almost proud. Normally, you wouldn’t have made it. Even back in the bad and horrible days you barely managed to do anything on your own, especially not shower or get dressed. Sometimes the most you did was go pee.

“Great”, he said and also sounded quite proud of you. He came over to you and lifted you back up in his arms, carrying you over into the kitchen.

JJ had been here before so he knew his way around. He placed you on a seat at the kitchen island and started to look around.

“Why are you doing this?”, you suddenly asked as you leaned on the counter, still feeling insecure about everything.

“Do what?”, he asked back at you like it was the most normal thing to act the way he did right now. No one had ever done this for you.

“Taking care of me”, you mumbled and sounded once again ashamed of yourself.

“Because you’re not doing it, so I’ll do it.” Those words tightened your throat when you wanted to swallow and a new tear left the side of your eye but you wiped it away quickly.

He took care of you because you didn’t do it yourself.

JJ started cooking in your kitchen and as soon as that wonderful smell of scrambled eggs came close to your nose your stomach started to growl loudly. You may not want to eat because you’re not feeling it but your stomach had a whole other opinion on that.

“Food is important”, he said as he put the eggs on a plate and grabbed the well done toast from the toaster and placed it in front of you. “Try to eat, okay?”

You swallowed but nodded, afraid you might not be able to keep it down. The first bite was hard to get down your throat and your stomach made a loud noise again, you were not sure if it was yelling to stop or telling you to continue.

JJ watched you the whole time you were eating and smiled at you. Seeing that smile helped you empty the plate.

“Good job”, he said with a grin and as ridiculous as it sounded, the praise felt good. It was nice to hear someone praising you for such simple tasks and not just when you got a good grade.

“Think you’re okay with walking now?”, he asked carefully as he put the dishes aside and held out a hand to you to help you get up from the chair.

“Yeah, I guess the shower woke my body up”, you said with a nod and he grinned. You took his hand and stood up. To your surprise he didn’t let go of your hand and walked outside with you.

The fresh air felt like fog to your brain for a moment but soon enough you felt energy returning to your body. The wind around your hair and the sun on your face made you smile.. He stopped at the garden swing on your patio and sat down with you, using his legs to make it swing forth and back a little.

It was relaxing but the thing that relaxed you most was his presence.

“Life can suck”, he suddenly said and looked over to you, his blue eyes locking with yours. “Some wounds show on the body.” He placed a kiss on the scars covering your upper left arm and it made you shiver. You thought of these scars as the most disgusting thing about your body and yet he was here, kissing them like they were normal. “But some are only on the inside.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

You swallowed hard and tried to keep the tears inside. How could he be so sweet with you? You weren’t worth his attention like this.

“I also know how exhausting it is to pretend you’re fine. You don’t have to pretend with me, you know? I’ll be here if you need me. I promise.” He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close, so you placed your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes.

It was good to listen to his smooth voice, soothing you while you were slowly swinging forth and back.

“It sometimes just feels like my life is falling apart again. I don’t want it, it’s like-” You struggled to find the right word to describe what was going on in your head.

“War?”, he finished your sentence and you nodded. Yes, it was like a war inside your head, your logical side against all those feelings and emotions you weren’t able to control.

“Yeah, you either win or die trying. I’ve won once but it came back anyway. I’m scared I won’t make it this time”, you mumbled against his shoulder and started to breath in sharply, his smell filling your nose and calming you down before you could think too much.

“You can win again. I’ll fight with you if you let me”, he whispered and pressed another kiss to your head.

You were convinced you could win this war once again now that JJ was by your side.

[number-one-micoverse-fan]

FebuWhump Day 16: Broken Bones

-dabs in more Jake angst-

Warnings: teen angst, implied beatings, not much tbh this one’s really short

-------------------

“Where is he?” Robbie is tapping his foot irritably and scowling at his watch. He paces the garage again, walking back and forth in front of the door, and the aims a kick at it so that it booms alarmingly.

“He’ll be here,” Says Ian. He’s slumped over his drum set, spinning a stick in one hand while the other props up his chin, “Just give him a minute.”

“You said that ten minutes ago!” Robbie shoots back, throwing his hands in the air, “God, we should just phone it in, he’s not showing up tonight. So much for practice. Uuuhhhggg, what an unreliable—“

There’s a knock on the garage door.

Robbie pauses before crouching down to lift up the heavy door, shoving it back on its rollers with a scream of old metal. Jake’s standing in the drive, one eye already swelling shut, blood smeared down his front from a split lip and bloody noise, and he’s cradling his left hand to his chest. His head is ducked low, black hair hanging in his face, his expression a brewing thunderstorm beneath the dried tears on his cheeks.

“Fuck,” Says Robbie.

“It’s fine,” Jake growls through gritted teeth. He stomps past Robbie and into the garage proper, only using his right hand to unsling his guitar from his back, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Jake—“ Ian begins.

“I said it’s fine!” But when Jake tries to move his left hand, he doubles over with a grunt of pain instead.

Ian sighs and hauls himself out from behind his drums. He crouches down in front of Jake and gestures, “‘Aight, tough guy, lemme see.”

Jake glares at him but slowly extends his hand out so Ian can inspect it. Jake’s fingers are swollen and slightly crooked, already red and slowly turning purple in some spot. Robbie, leaning over Ian’s shoulder, hisses in sympathy. Ian tuts and shakes his head, carefully holding Jake’s palm so as not to disturb his fingers.

“Dude, your fingers are kind of fuckin’ broken,” He says, “You’re not playing anything like this.”

“I can play—!” Jake starts to protest, trying to pull his hand back, but Ian doesn’t let him go.

“Nuh-uh, man, no playing. Not on these mangled little matchsticks.”

“You—“

“Ey, Robbie, can you get Lacey? Ask her if she can gives us a ride to the clinic.”

“Uh,” Robbie blinks, glancing between Jake and Ian, “Yeah, sure. Be just a sec.” He hurries into the house, glancing over his shoulder at the other two before he pulls the door shut behind him.

A bitter silence falls around them in the garage. Jake is sitting cross legged on the floor now, glaring at the stained cement, his free hand clenched so tightly in his ratty jeans that his knuckles are white. Ian is still holding his hand gently in both of his own, idly looking out the garage door into the street. Hot fury radiates off Jake like a volcano, brimming and ready to boil over, on the brink of erupting and already seeping a toxic gas the poisons the air.

“Y’wanna stay at my place tonight?” Ian asks. Jake glances up from under his shaggy bangs but Ian’s still looking out towards the street as if he’s thinking of something else altogether.

“Probably shouldn’t,” Jake mutters darkly, “Would just make things worse.”

Ian finally turns to look at him, expression contorting into something other than his tired indifference, “Shit’s stupid.” He mutters, eyebrows drawn together as he looks at Jake’s broken fingers, “You gonna be good if you go back with your hand patched up?”

Jake sighs, shoulder slumping, his anger hissing out like a fire that’s lost its fuel. It sputter inside him, forever burning, a smoldering pit of loathing that will never completely go out. When he speaks, he sounds defeated,

“Fuck if I know. Maybe he’ll break the other one to make it even.” He chuckles darkly but the sound breaks off into a choked sob he quickly swallows down. He blinks furiously, ducks his head low so Ian can’t see his face.

Robbie comes running back with Lacey in tow and they pile Jake into the car and head towards the clinic. They make excuses about falling down the stairs. The staff give them suspicious looks but say nothing. Jake is stiff and quiet and distrusting, shrinking away from the doctors and nurses and giving one word answers if he has to speak at all.

Ian uses the pay phone by the check in desk to call the Fuller household.

He knows Jake needs a shoulder to cry on.

And he knows that shoulder will never be his.

[onisiondrama]

(Note: I’m not repeating stories he’s told before and just putting them in parenthesis. I have a lot more videos to go until I’m caught up so that would save me a lot of time. If he gives details I never heard from him before, I will type those.)

“Should I Get A Divorce?” Speaks,  Oct 6, 2020

- This video is weird. He’s trying to make himself seem smart and insightful about marriage because his marriage is “successful”, while most people complain about their marriage. - There’s one part where he says people don’t understand you don’t have to be lied to or cheated on in a relationship. Which is pretty ironic coming from him. He shows a clip of an upset wife asking her husband what he’s doing with a woman in a bedroom. The husband and the woman are getting dressed. The husband keeps asking “Who?” “What?”, pretending the woman isn’t there. Later he shows more of the clip where the wife is still questing him. He keeps pretending he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She looks in the bedroom again and the woman is gone. The wife looks confused. Love that gaslighting. Just like when Jamsey boi cheats. “I didn’t cheat. It was the other person who cheated on you, my spouse” “You said I can’t have oral or vaginal sex with your friend. You didn’t say anything about anal.” - In another part he says there are people who constantly complain about their s/o and they hide away in a man cave.. he says this while in his garage man cave. 😑 Which we know he spends most of his time in. Like, way longer than normal working hours.  - He says he used to look angry in his old Speaks videos because of his marriage at the time. That’s total crap. He only shows clips from videos where he used his old militant persona for videos like his anti-meat videos. He made plenty of mushy Speaks videos talking about how happy he was with Skye back then too. 🙄 - I think he made this video during his short guru / advise phase.

“gotta say goodbye for a little bit” Speaks, October 8, 2020

- Tells his viewers they can listen to this video without watching it if they like to listen to people talk, like Kai used to do. [This is definitely meant to be another guru / advise type video. I can tell by his tone.] - Says he’s married to Kai for almost 8 years. (How Kai found James story) Says he married a fan and had children with them. He says they now have an awesome dynamic, but he knocks on wood because people who are together 18 years still get divorces. Says you never know, things can suddenly fall apart. - Says it’s cool because at the time he didn’t listen to social standards. Kai was 17 at the time, but lied about his age. Most people would have said don’t go for the relationship because Kai lied and the age gap, even though it was legal. He listened to the law and his heart and now he’s in the happiest marriage of his life. - “F society.” If he listened to society, he wouldn’t know where he’d be or what relationship he’d be in. Says you have to follow the legal system or your life is ruined. - Says he was an air force cop at one point because he believed in justice. He doesn’t think he wanted to shoot people, but he excelled in the cop program. He says he met Magic Johnson in the cafeteria at Lackland Air Force Base. He barely knew who Magic Johnson was, but he thought it was cool a famous basketball player was there. James asked him if he could take a picture and he said yes. He says he took a picture of him like a reporter and not a selfie. He still regrets that. - Says he wants to talk about the future of this channel. Some people appreciate he’s been uploading every day, but he wants to focus on sites that aren’t shadow banning people or algorithmically demoting people. He feels like Youtube is king in letting negative opinions prevail, even if it’s invalid. If the engagement shows people are mad at you, Youtube used to go the harsh truth route. He says that was nice. He says he once made a fake meltdown video in response to a video Leafy made about him. He says it’s fun for him to make fake meltdowns. - He says he and Kai took a quiz today and found out Kai’s IQ is 136 and his is 129, so Kai is smarter than him. - After the meltdown videos, Youtube algorithm didn’t favor him as much. He says maybe it was because he said they were fake. - He says he has been thinking about websites and how they treat users. Says Twitter is one the best because they don’t care about what your opinion is. They just care about their rules. Says if people don’t like you on other sites, they will shadow-ban you and you’re done for. He says his reaction video to Leafy’s video got 1/6th the views Leafy did, so there was a bleed over of traffic. Now when someone says something negative about you, YouTube will only promote videos that agree with that narrative. Says if you only want to hear negative stuff about Joe Biden, you’ll only see negative stuff. He says it’s financially productive, but it’s not ethically productive.

[I just want to pause here and vent a second. Yes, James fell out of the YouTube algorithm, but he’s had plenty of chances to sweep back into it. Like when he was getting tons of views on those fake meltdown videos in January. The reason those viewers didn’t stay is because there is nothing good for them to watch. His Speaks videos are boring, long, rambling messes. He repeats himself, contradicts himself, talks about the same topics over and over. These videos are mind-numbingly boring. His comedy videos are extremely outdated. The characters, topics, and humor he uses are not going to get him anywhere anymore. Like is the Death Note fandom really that strong in 2020? That anime came out 14 years ago for Christ sake. His music is not particularly good or interesting. On top of all this, his reputation is complete garbage.

People just don’t want to watch Onision. If the algorithm tried promoting his Speaks videos, I guarantee most people are actively choosing not to click on his videos. The non-subscribers that do click probably regret it. He’s made ZERO effort into making interesting or engaging content. He’s ONLY been making Speaks content that either fuels his ego or defends himself using the same old arguments he’s used 100+ times before. He’s got to be in some kind of deep denial if he thinks his Youtube views are down because of the algorithm. 

There used to be a saying that whenever Onision’s fans grow out of him, there will always be a crop of young teens that start watching him. That’s not happening anymore. It’s not cool for the alt / loner kids to watch edgy Youtube videos anymore.]

- Says people only want to hear things they agree with, people want to take what he says out of context, blah, blah. I’m only 1/4th of the way through this damn video. - He asks why he’s busting his butt when there’s no chance for him to prevail on Youtube or anywhere. He says he’s on TikTok, OnlyFans, Twitch. [This video was from before his partnership was taken away on Twitch.] He says those are slightly less problematic because they are driven by human beings and not drama. - He says when you see him posting less to Youtube in the future, you’ll understand why. He says he wants to wait you guys out, 2 years, 20 years. (He tried to call out Shane story.) He says he had to wait a year or two until people admitted he was right about Shane. He says he has conflicting feeling about Shane because they had a personal friendship. Says Shane told him they were friends. - He says you guys seem to drive your narrative and agendas by emotion rather than science and facts. He can’t reason with them unless he picked a greater evil and wages war on that. You would have to join forces with him because the enemy of my enemy is my friend. He says he wouldn’t do that because he’s not interested in being a professional wrestler and making fake drama. - In time you will feel passionately about other things. You don’t actually care about anyone involved because none of you are consuming yourself with anything that is not pop culture. You’re only interested in things other people are pretending to care about. None of you would care if someone found three bodies in a basement. If they were not celebrities you wouldn’t care. You only want justice for things that will get you attention. - If someone builds their whole platform about anti-person they might get bored and become anti-you. That’s why you don’t want to be friends with dramatic people. - He says he was dramatic about things, but that’s because he did care about those things. He wasn’t talking about 3 bodies in the basement either. - Says a long time ago when a celebrity died, he pointed out 30 people were murdered and washed ashore in another country. No one was talking about it because they probably didn’t hear about it. Nobody actually cares about human lives. If you did, every second that a human dies you’d be tweeting about it. - (Sarah blackmail story.) He says in a number of words Sarah said she wouldn’t ruin his life if she slept with him, then went back on it. [Wow. He really morphed his original story. It used to be: One time she jokingly said she could ruin our lives. Later we wanted her to sign an NDA and she said only if she gets something out of it, meaning sex. James said it was “good vibes” that day and he perceived that as her being kinky. She also said it was just a joke in the “proof” clip he always uses. They signed the NDA, then James pressured / tricked Kai into having sex with himself and Sarah. Then Sarah later came back and he decided they should have anal while Kai was out of town because Kai didn’t say no genital to butt. He only said no genital to genital and no genital to mouth before he left.] He says he decided to no longer sleep with Sarah because it was toxic and he decided he would rather be ruined than be with Sarah. [I have a theory he stopped sleeping with Sarah because he was afraid of Kai finding out. If he was truly afraid of Sarah ruining his life, why did he make those videos about weed smokers and BPD that would piss her off? She didn’t speak about their relationship publicly until he started bashing her through those videos.] Says Sarah went ahead and ruined his life and you fell for it. - He keeps mentioning Joe Rogan. - He says others have said he built an empire, uploaded thousands of videos. He gave so much of his life entertaining people and making them laugh. It was so important to him. He changed a lot of lives for the better. Says if you look on Twitter before the drama, you’ll see a lot of people thanking him. Says he was a positive influence to millions of people. That’s a fact. It all came crumbling down because people lied. They’re all criminals he kicked out of his life. He tries to play hero and he was only right with Kai. Kai wasn’t playing victim, he was on his way to college to be a surgeon. Once he was in the process of having kids, he lost the taste to be in a surgery room. Instead he got a bachelor’s in psychology. Kai’s diagnosis of James is aspects of narcissism, but says he doesn’t meet the qualifications to be a full blown narcissist. - He is investing a lot of time in people who don’t listen and don’t appreciate his content. Social media is a drug that tries to take up as much of your time as possible to make advertisers money. He doesn't create content that lies to you or brainwashing you into thinking your opinion is valid. He doesn’t pander to you to make money. Says when he says he’s one of the most honest people on Youtube, the bar is low. OnisionSpeaks is snake poison because snakes don’t survive on this channel. They aren’t going to have a voice that isn’t questioned. Most snakes on Youtube don’t even know how to activate charities on their channels. - Says he had a conversation with Kai about someone who said they vote for the economy over people. Humans are divided between helping their neighbor and helping themselves. - Says he was never taken to court because he never did anything. He’s still posting to places that he thinks is beneficial to himself and his family. Why would he stop because people have a bad idea of him? You shouldn’t alter your life just because people have an opinion of you. If you quit it makes you look guilty. If you quit you’re either guilty or incapable of dealing with it. He says he’s used to dealing with abuse since he began social media. - He wants to create content and help people and make them laugh. He wants to be socially capable and experienced. His ambitions are aligned with what he’s doing. - He says he can’t forgive his father if what people say about him is true. Everyone else he can forgive. If you are at odds with him, he doesn’t have any hate for you. He understands people can hear the wrong narrative and make mistakes. Says we are both imperfect people and have gone through different things. Says if we went through the same experiences, we’d think the same. Says we aren’t so different.  - Says he’s going away and he hopes you watch all his videos so you’ll know a little bit about who he is instead of listening to what Youtube manipulates you into watching. Says his advise is to quit social media. He wouldn’t quit because he’s passionate about it.

[calumance]

LA Devotee - Part II

Warnings: Cussing, drinking, talks of toxic relationships, fluuuuuuff

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: After Calum and Emily leave the club together, they stay up all night talking. Even though it is completely one sided, maybe having Calum in her life is what Emily needs to finally get her life in order.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy part 2! Feedback is always welcomed 😊

Part I

           I followed him around the corner to the parking garage that was attached to the club. He lifted his hand and pressed the button on the key fob. The head lights on a blacked out Range Rover lit up and suddenly my mouth was salivating. After you spend the good part of seven years working in a car dealership, you become familiar with cars, and I am familiar with the fact that this is not a cheap car. Calum opened the passenger side door for me and I felt something inside of me telling me not to get in with the chance that I somehow ruin the interior of the car. That must’ve been portrayed on my face because suddenly Calum laughed, “You’re fine, get in.” Reluctantly, I sat in the passenger side and he closed the door. As he walked along the front of the car, he fingered through the multiple keys on his keychain and then dropped his hand to his side. The driver’s door popped open and he dropped himself into seat. After he started the car, I smoothed down my dress and then sat on my hands as to not touch anything, like a little kid in a museum. “Do you want to go to your apartment- “

           “-No!” I cut him off, knowing what that place looks like. “No, please take me anywhere but my own apartment.” He nodded, pushing his bottom lip out to think for a second. He shrugged and shifted the car into drive and pulled out of his parking spot. As he turned onto the main street, and the engine roared with acceleration, I suddenly found myself turned on, by the car, by him? Who am I? I shook my head and closed my eyes to try to get my thoughts straight. After my thoughts became silent, I stared out the window. The only travel pattern I am familiar with in this city is the one I take, on the bus, to and from work, so it is no surprise to me that I have no idea where we are. I put my hand over my face realizing just how easy it would be to kill me. Just as I thought about potentially being murdered, he pulled in front of a house that was easily bigger than any house I’ve ever seen. “Where are we?” I was aware of the fact that this was probably his house, however, I didn’t want to believe it. My eyes stayed glued on the house in front of me as he turned the car off.

           His eyes were on me, and he was smiling, “This is my house, I didn’t really know where else to go since you didn’t want to go home, so I took you to my home.”

           My head snapped over at him, “Okay, let me get this straight,” He nodded, “I am sitting in a car that costs,” I pause and pull my hands up so all of my finger tips are touching my thumb, “Roughly one hundred thousand dollars?” He shrugs and nods, “And that,” I point to the house with my right hand, leaving my left hand in the same position, “Is your home.” He nodded again, “And you’re not trying to get into my pants?” He shook his head, “Who are you?” He laughed, causing that resonating sound to ring through my ears again. He popped open the door and I watched him walk to the other side of his car and open my door, offering me his hand. I grabbed his hand, still slightly confused on what I had gotten myself into. After I was soundly on my own two feet, he walked a head of me and unlocked his front door. He held the door open for me, and once we were both inside the house, he pushed the button to lock the car. The honk caused me to jump in the midst of me looking around the foyer.

Suddenly, I see a little black and white dog trotting up to us, his tail wagging furiously. “This is Duke, I’m going to go let him outside. Feel free to kick your shoes off and make yourself comfortable. There are some drinks in the kitchen if you want to help yourself to anything.” Calum walked away and I lifted one foot while holding onto the wall to slip the shoe off my foot and repeated the motion with the other shoe. I pulled my jacket off my arms and hung it on the rack close to the door. For some reason, I tiptoed my way into the kitchen. As I opened the door to the refrigerator I saw Calum standing outside, his back towards the door with his phone pressed to his ear. I grabbed a bottle out of the fridge and looked at the top, seeing that it says to use a bottle opener. Although Calum said I could help myself to anything, I still felt like it would be weird to go through his things.

Reluctantly, I headed for his back door, and slid it open, quietly enough that he didn’t hear me. As much as I hated when people eves dropped on me, curiosity killed the cat, “Yeah, I know, we have to be in the studio by seven tomorrow morning. I’m already at home, I can’t stand that stupid club, I don’t know why I keep going back.” He paused while the person on the other line said something, “I mean, yeah, I did, but I think this time it’s different.” He paused again and he shrugged as if the person on the other end could see him, “It just feels different. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He hung up and looked at his phone for a minute. I pulled my eyebrows together, what felt different, the club? I closed the back door, making sure I made a noise so that I would catch Calum’s attention. He jumped a bit, and put his phone in his pocket while turning his upper body towards me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come out here, but this needs a bottle opener and I don’t want to go through your stuff.”

“Oh, yeah.” He called for Duke who came running around the corner and then inside. “I’m sorry, I should’ve showed you where it was before I came out here. I’ll go back inside with you.” Calum let me lead the way back into his house, but then he quickly moved passed me to start rifling through a drawer. He pulled out his bottle opener and opened the bottle for me. I took a drink as he reached into his fridge and grabbed a drink for himself. “Do you want to sit outside? It’s a beautiful night. After the drink left my lips, I nodded.

Calum sat down in a padded chair and pointed to the one that was next to him, but at just the right angle that we could still talk face to face. As I sat down, I place my right leg underneath and crossed my left leg over my right knee. A weird position to sit in, but I was wearing a dress, and wanted nothing to be showing. We sat in silence for a minute, and just as it started to get awkward, Calum spoke up. “Tell me about yourself, Emily.”

That is probably the one question I would rather die than answer. I hated talking about myself, and I certainly didn’t want some guy I met two hours ago to know how much of a mess I actually am. Then again, I’ve always been that way. I remember in college they would make everyone in the class say their name, their major and what they like to do for fun. Moments like those always made me cringe. I was there to learn, and then go the fuck home. I’m here to not be at that night club and then go the fuck home. “Pass. Tell me about yourself. How did you wind up with this big ole house and a fancy car?”

He laughed, a bit confused on why I passed on talking about myself. “Uh, I’m in a band. I guess we’re pretty big?” That’s when the ton of bricks fell on top of me, reminding me of how stupid I actually am. I knew there was something about him that I recognized, and his name, ‘Calum’ is not a common name, at least not from where I’m from.

I took a large drink from my bottle, thinking back to when I first found out about them. It was back before I got married, back before I even met my ex-husband. They were always playing in my car, and I would belt out every word to every song whenever I heard them. But then I met my completely toxic ex-husband who forced me to change my interests to fit his interests and I stopped listening to them, and stopped paying attention to them. As I set my bottle down on the table, I licked my lips and raised my eyebrows. “So, you’re Calum Hood,” I stated calmly, “I knew that name could not be that common.” My eyes found his face and I noticed a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You look different with blonde hair.” I placed my fist under my chin and he ran his hand through his hair in nervousness, “Back when you guys first came out, you guys were all I listened to, but I kind of stopped about 5 years ago, not because I don’t like you or the band, just things happened in my life.” I shrugged and focused my attention back on my drink sitting on the table.

Calum waved his hand, dismissing my half apology, “You don’t need to apologize to me. I kind of liked the fact that you didn’t know who I was. Sometimes it’s nice to not have people constantly recognizing you and taking pictures of you and screaming your name.” He turned his bottle in his fingers and I watched the tendons in his hands flex with all the movement. He raised his eyebrows and back pedaled he last words, “Not that I don’t enjoy our fans, because I do. Just, sometimes it’s nice to have something different.” He closed his eyes and ran his fingers across his forehead, “Sorry, I sound like a complete ass right now.” He chuckled.

I hummed and took a drink from my bottle, “Sorry I ruined your something different.” We laughed at each other, then continued to talk, not about me though, which I was thankful for. A breeze came through, sending a shiver down my spine that told me it was getting late and that I still needed to ‘go the fuck home’ as I stated earlier. Except, I had no idea how I was going to get home. There was the option of taking an Uber or Lyft but that would be terrifying at this time of night is Los Angeles. Of course, I could ask Calum to take me home, but then there runs the possibility that he would want to walk me upstairs, because he’s a gentleman, and then he finds out how sad my life truly is. “I think I should be heading home. Thank you for having me over, I appreciate it.” I say after finishing the last of my drink.

As I stand up, Calum stands up with me, and follows me to the front door, objecting to me leaving the entire way. I ignore his objections and grab my jacket, searching the pockets for my phone. He hovers over me, well aware that I am ignoring him, but suddenly he asks a question that rings through my ears, “How will you get home?”

I tuck my hair behind my ears and look at my phone. Mikayla has called me fifteen times. Maybe if I called her back, she’d come pick me up, but then she’d know that I went to a perfect stranger’s house and I’d never hear the end of it from Mom-kayla. I hold my phone to my chest and pull my lip down into a frown and shrug. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll walk or something. I don’t think we’re that far from where I live.”

Calum took a step closer to me, reaching his hand out so that his fingertips just barely graze the skin on my arm, “Well if we’re not too far, maybe I can just drive you home?” He started to reach for his keys, but that is just not happening tonight.

“No!” I stopped him, putting my hand over his then letting out a really dumb sounding nervous laugh. His eyebrows furrow. “No, it’s late, you shouldn’t have to drive me home, and we’ve both been drinking. I’ll just walk, I’ll be fine.”

He looked at me like I was insane. “Listen, there is no fucking way I am going to let you walk home. So, if you don’t have a ride and won’t accept my offer, then I guess you’re just going to have to stay the night.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Excuse me? I met you like four hours ago.”

He shrugged, “Okay, and? I wouldn’t let anyone walk home this late at night, because that would be stupid on my part. So, either accept my offer to drive you home, or sleep on my couch and take an Uber in the morning.”

No matter what I do, I am going to get some type of lecture from Mikayla, and everything in my body was telling me to go home, but the little voice in the back of my head telling me to stay was getting louder and louder by the second. My eyes flickered between his, his facial expression did not waver, he was completely serious about me staying the night at his house. This was not how I expected this night to go. I drop my head and rub my hand on the back of my neck, “What will I sleep in?” I ask, sheepishly giving into him.

Calum walked away from me without a word and still without a change in facial expression. I stayed frozen in my spot until he turned around, “Well, you coming or not?” I jumped and ran to catch up with him, my bare feet making a slapping noise on his tile floor. He continued to walk through the hallways of his house, and I followed behind him just like a lost puppy. “There’s a bathroom right here if you need to take a shower or anything, towels are in the cabinet. There’s probably some girly body wash or something in there from the last time my sister stayed with me. Feel free to use as much of it as you want.” He continued to walk, and I continued to follow him. In one fluid motion, Calum grabbed the handle and opened the door into a room that was perfectly decorated and perfectly lit, with a view of the city from the bay windows. He started to dig through a drawer while I stepped forward and took in the amazing view of the city. “Here’s a pair of sweat pants that I keep meaning to get rid of, and a hoodie because it gets cold in the living room.” I took them from him and he walked back out of the room. As I followed him back into the living room, I held the clothes to my chest.

The smell radiating from Calum’s clothes forced me to pull his clothes from my chest and to my nose to inhale the aroma further. If he had seen me, I’d probably look like a serial killer, but he didn’t and his cologne just smells so good. He opened a closet door and pulled out a blanket and dropped it on the couch. He told me about the fireplace in case I got cold enough to need it and then put his hands in his pockets. “Uh, thank you. If I need anything, should I just knock?” I secretly inhaled the aroma of his cologne again.

“Yeah, I have to leave for the studio pretty early tomorrow morning, but if you wake up before me, feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” He smiled and rocked back and forth on his feet. We bid each other a goodnight and he headed back down the hallway towards his bedroom, Duke close on his heels. I listened for the door to shut and made my way to his guest bathroom after being sure he was in his room. The warm water felt amazing against my skin as the shower pecked at my tired skin. Even though I could get lost in the shower, I found myself being hyper aware of my surroundings. As much as I was absolutely exhausted, I was in a strangers house and had to be careful. After I dried myself off and pulled on the clothes that Calum had given me, I walked back to the living room. The house was dead silent, I wondered if he would be bothered by the sound of the TV but I decided to leave it off. I gently sat on the couch and flicked the blanket over myself. My back pressed so hard against the back of the couch that I was sure I would become a part of it by morning. My eyes started to feel heavy, even though I felt completely uncomfortable in someone else’s house, but eventually, the sleep overcame and I was out like a light.

The feeling of a wet, slobbery tongue on my face woke me up, followed by a voice behind it saying, “Duke, buddy, I told you to let her sleep.” My eyes opened, and I pet the small dog in my face to bid him a good morning back. As I sat up, he jumped off me and ran in the other direction. “Sorry about that, we had a talk before we came in here, but apparently he didn’t listen. So, I have to head out, but if you want I can call you an Uber or something. I’d offer to take you home myself, but I’m running late, even after I told them I wouldn’t be.”

I stood up and folded the blanket, dropping the square on the arm of the couch. “I can order an Uber, don’t worry about that. Do you want me to change and leave your clothes somewhere?” I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping that sleeping with wet hair didn’t turn out the way that it usually turns out. By the feeling of it, it did.

“No, you’re fine, maybe you can give them back the next time we see each other.” Butterflies came to life in my stomach hearing that he assumed we’d see each other again. I just nodded and grabbed my phone to get an Uber. After it confirmed my pick up, Calum and I walked out together, me holding my clothes and shoes to my chest, him carrying just his keys. He was wearing a pair of black joggers and a white t-shirt that was loose fitting and topped it off with a grey beanie. Casual, but I can only imagine how long his days are when he is in the studio. “Let me give you my phone number so you can let me know you made it home safely.” He said right as he got to his car. I unlocked my phone and handed it to him as he punched a number in and then handed it back to me.

Nothing else was said as he got into his car and drove off. After he was gone, I sat on the sidewalk and waited for the Uber. It wasn’t long until it came, and it was definitely an awkward drive back to my apartment. As soon as I walked into my apartment, I looked at the stacked boxes and sighed. I dropped my clothes and shoes onto the floor and kicked them off to the side then ran my hands down my face. As promised, I texted Calum to tell him I made it home okay. My fingers grazed the divorce papers sitting on my counter as I dropped my phone into the pocket of Calum’s sweat pants which were way too comfy to take off; something I would never admit out loud. My hands gripped the edge of the counter while staring at the papers.

It’s not that I haven’t moved on, or that I don’t want to move on, because I’m pretty sure I had moved on long before we decided to actually get divorced. He treated me like shit, and I was tired of being treated like shit, but the reason I didn’t ask for a divorce sooner is the exact reason I am standing here with a rage burning into my soul as I stare at the papers. He took everything from me, and he was the one who asked for the divorce. Imagine what he would’ve taken from me if I had asked for the divorce. My heart began to race, and my breathing became labored the longer I looked at the papers. The rage boiled over as I swiped my hands across the counter, causing the papers to scatter across the floor of my apartment. Fuck this, I thought to myself, It’s time to get my shit together. Leaving the papers on the floor, I grabbed a box and started unpacking.

[qvestchen]

Nemesis // Soonwoo SVT

Summary: It was really laughable. The idea that Jeon Wonwoo had a nemesis. And yet there it was. The clear proof that all his life, like a nagging dull ache, Kwon Soonyoung had stepped all over his plans without ever really acknowledging him.

And maybe it was wrong for Wonwoo to seek him out but all he wanted was answers at first. He had never imagined they would stand opposite each other, fingers on triggers, his death in his nemesis’s hands and vice-versa.

Author: qvestchen

Status: Ongoing

Chapters: Home, Previous, Next.

Nemesis // Soonwoo SVT

Chapter 5: You can just date me

Avoidance.

Soonyoung had woken up at the medical center to find the Dean, Mr. Lee Yu Jin, waiting for him. 

“Ah, Kwon Soonyoung, is it? You had us all worried for a bit there, my boy,” Mr. Lee said, his smile not really warm.

Soonyoung tried sitting up and felt a drip attached to his hand pinch slightly.

“Oh, no need to greet me. Take rest. The nurse told me you’re exhausted. The second student from drama club to end up here in the past couple of days I have been told. As President, you should really tone the drama club activities down a bit. We don’t want our rising club to fail because of overwork, right, my boy?”

Soonyoung nodded slowly, not really understanding why the Dean was here at all.

“You all should have fun too. Rest, have fun, study, and so on. I must say, I would appreciate it if you don’t party at my house in the future.” Mr. Lee laughed, seeing Soonyoung’s panic at the revelation. “Don’t worry. I know my son, Chan, hosted the party. He doesn’t listen to his father at all.” He got up and handed Soonyoung his card. “Let me know if there is anything you need. I feel responsible for what happened on Chan’s behalf.”

“It’s no problem. He wasn’t involved,” Soonyoung said.

Mr. Lee muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “It would do him well to not get involved, for once.”

Soonyoung’s curiosity was piqued but he didn’t ask further. 

Avoidance.

His friends asked him all sorts of questions. He chose to laugh it out.

“Really, I have no memory of what happened after entering the party. I had taken a shot of some weird tasting drink from Jihoon earlier so that must be it.” He laughed. “I really shouldn’t trust Jihoon’s wine cabinet from now on.”

Jihoon made a move as if to choke him. “Hey, my wine cabinet is exquisite, okay?”

Seungcheol laughed. “Didn’t you buy it off someone’s garage sale? It must have lots of expired items in it.”

“Wow, you had food poisoning? Cheol here nearly murdered a guy over your food poisoning, dude,” Junhui said.

Soonyoung’s smile dropped. Wonwoo. “You what?”

Junhui continued, “And that too when I was about to exchange numbers with that guy’s friend. Now, I have no date.”

Jihoon pushed Junhui. “Oi, priorities?”

Soonyoung tried to joke and smile again. “You can just date me, Junnie.”

Jun made a gagging sound. “I’m not that desperate, ugh.”

Joshua looked unconvinced by the banter. Soonyoung knew he wasn’t buying any of this. He also knew his friend had been crying. It hurt him to see the pale redness at the edges of Joshua’s eyes. He wanted to talk to him, to thank him…he didn’t.

Avoidance.

When he was fourteen, his therapist had told him he had trouble with facing his problems. 

“Soonyoung, you can’t avoid your problems forever. Avoidance breeds toxicity.”

What was he supposed to say?

Facing his problems had led him here.

“Now, will you tell me what is bothering you?”

He didn’t.

Avoidance.

When he was discharged from the medical center and alone in his dorm room for a bit, he opened his inbox to see if he had contacted him.

There were several messages.

There were messages from his drama club members.

“Hey, I’m sorry you fainted. Hope you’re feeling better now, Hoshi. Wonwoo wouldn’t have hurt you. He’s a nice guy. He just looks scary.” --Seungkwan.

“Hoshi! Please get better soon. We need our Tiger back.” --DK

“Wonwoo got off on the wrong foot. He’s a friend. I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm.” --DK

And messages from random people.

“HEARD YOU GOT BEAT UP?”

“Are you okay?”

“You owe me 15 dollars! Don’t die yet!”

And calls from his parents.

He wondered who had told them. He sighed. There was a part of him that wanted to call them right now and tell them that he had been right all along. Jeon Wonwoo did exist. He was here in the university where he was studying. They, apparently, even had common friends. He wanted to shout and scream. He wanted to be comforted because he had been wronged all these years. 

Instead, he messaged, “Mom, Dad, I’m well. Don’t worry. I’ll call in the morning.”

Avoidance.

Wonwoo was walking beside Mingyu as they made their way to the language building for their respective electives. The crowd was louder than usual today. There were still whispers but they seemed to be more about Wonwoo than Mingyu today. 

Did you see him--yes, that one there--he beat up Hoshi--yes, the dark haired one--he beats up kids often--what’s Mingyu doing with him--oh, he even blackmails people--yes, he beat up Hoshi over nothing--the boy was hospitalized--he’s going to be expelled--his parents must be rich--he doesn’t even feel guilty--look at him--he beat up Hoshi--stay away from him--he’s a punk--poor Mingyu, for having such friends--he needs some sense knocked into--

Wonwoo tried to grin. “I don’t think you’re the center of attention anymore, Mingyu.”

Mingyu didn’t smile back. “They’re all so wrong. How can people spread lies like this?”

“You shouldn’t wander around with me or your reputation will get tarnished too.”

Mingyu slipped his hand around the crook of his elbow. “Then, let it.”

Minghao appeared from nowhere. His windswept hair suggested that he had been running. He wordlessly placed his arm around Wonwoo’s neck. 

“What?” he asked, looking at both of his protective friends.

Minghao rolled his eyes. “At least Mingyu and I are just doing PDA. Seungkwan is fighting everyone and Seokmin is trying to get Hoshi to tell everyone you’re innocent.”

Wonwoo decided he liked the name Hoshi better. It didn’t knock the air out of his lungs every time it was uttered. Hoshi...he could nearly pretend Hoshi wasn’t Soonyoung. 

Avoidance.

When Wonwoo had got a call from the Persian Department, he had been surprised. 

“Wait, does that mean I’m in?” he had asked.

“Yes, someone backed out of the course. We have one seat open. Do you want it?” the clerk sounded just as bored on the phone as he did in person. 

Wonwoo was beyond grateful. He didn’t have any elective as a back-up. “Yes, yes, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“Come to the office and collect the syllabus and course materials.”

But when he dropped off his friends at their electives and finally reached Room 67, he was met by a commotion.

“What do you mean you gave my seat to someone else? How can you do that?” 

Wonwoo frowned. What was happening?

The clerk was explaining coldly, “Your name was crossed out. There was one person in the waiting list so we gave it to him.”

“How am I supposed to find a new elective now? All courses are probably closed. Besides, I didn’t cross out my name. So, why should I suffer?” the student said.

“We can’t help you, I’m afraid. The other student was already informed--Oh, there he is! You can ask him if he can give you his seat? It’s really not my problem anymore.” The clerk yawned to emphasize his point.

The student turned around and his mouth dropped on seeing Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo recognized him immediately and took a step back. 

Soonyoung’s gaze went cold after the recognition. He closed his mouth and sighed, mumbling, “Of course, of all people...it had to be him.”

“H-Hoshi,” Wonwoo finally said.

“Never mind,” Soonyoung told the clerk. “I’m not interested anymore.”

“What is happening here?” 

Both of them turned to look at the newcomer.

The clerk stood up quickly. “Oh, Professor Nusrat. Uh there has been a small misunderstanding.”

Professor Nusrat was middle-aged and stood remarkably straight. Her clothes were beautifully embroidered and complemented her nails and jewellery. She quirked an eyebrow and asked in a dangerously strict voice. “Really?”

Soonyoung was the one who spoke up. “This guy stole my seat for the elective and now I’m left without an elective even though I signed up earlier. The clerk refuses to help me now.”

Wonwoo gaped at him.

He stole so much from me. This is the least I can get back, Soonyoung was thinking, suddenly seething with anger. All those years spent searching and doubting himself. Those years, Wonwoo had stolen from him. And now suddenly, he was here stealing his life again. I’m not going to let this happen. 

Wonwoo said, “Professor, I don’t know what his problem is but I got a call from the office that I got the seat. I didn’t steal anything.”

He was so annoyed. He had been patient with the rumours. No, he had been patient all along. He had avoided all the signs. He had patiently let go of everything that had been poisoned by Soonyoung but as the scar on his knee itched again, he couldn’t help but think no more, I’m not going to settle anymore.

Professor Nusrat looked at both of them. “Are you sure this is about the seat?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Anyway, I didn’t know our elective was getting so famous suddenly. I can’t believe people are fighting to join it. Pleases me no end. You both can join. It’s not an issue.”

The clerk made a protesting noise.

Professor Nusrat repeated. “Not an issue. Come along. The class has already waited long enough because of the noise.”

There was, however, only one empty seat at the back of the class. 

“Minseok, get a chair from my room. Woojin, come to the front. You both,” she said to Soonyoung and Wonwoo, “can take those two at the end.”

Wonwoo was making his way to the freshly vacated chair, followed by Soonyoung, when he tripped over someone’s bag. He grasped at air, feeling himself fall forward, eyes widening--

And then suddenly, he wasn’t falling anymore. A strong hand caught his arm and pulled him back. Still, unable to balance, Wonwoo fell slightly back, into Soonyoung’s chest. 

He was already apologizing when he turned to look at Soonyoung and his heart seemed to clench almost painfully. 

He was so close to Soonyoung, he could see the flecks in his eyes, the slight quiver of his lips forming a word, his breath catching sharply, the way his skin was reddening so perceptibly as he felt Wonwoo’s gaze upon him. 

Someone coughed and now, Soonyoung was pushing him slightly. 

Wonwoo regained his balance and wordlessly moved ahead. He knew his ears were burning hot, he could feel his heart hammering in his chest and there was an almost hysterical laugh building in his throat. 

Because, in that moment when Wonwoo had stared back at Soonyoung, feeling him so close to himself, he had nearly done something he could have regretted later. He had nearly said, “You’re beautiful.” He had no idea where the thought had come from. It was certainly not his usually level-headed brain. 

He was glad he had avoided the silly statement. 

But he didn’t know.

He didn’t know that in another classroom, Joshua was tugging at his burning bracelet which was warning him of something.

Something that Joshua knew but tried to ignore, something that Soonyoung and Wonwoo still didn’t know.

Jeonghan was on the terrace of his dorm. He wondered when they would find out that no one could avoid fate. 

Thank you for being so patient! Hope you enjoyed the update. The next chapter will have a few revelations so please look forward to it :)

[thatonecurlygirl]

“I’m late.” & “Don’t argue. Just do it.” + Sam Winchester?

A/N: Sorry I got a little carried away with the weird story line😬.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You curse, speed walking from the washroom to your room with a fresh face of light makeup on.

It’s a tornado of clothes in your room as you frantically pull them from the drawers and closets to put together a decent outfit. You shimmy into a mid-thigh length dress as you try and dry your hair the best you can.

You hear footsteps approaching and knowing it isn’t the eldest Winchester, you call out for Sam who in turn pops his head around the corner and into your room.

“Yeah? Whoa, what’s the special occasion?” He asks, taken aback by the black dress that hugs you in the right places and is loose and flairs slightly in others.

“High school reunion, Dean was going to go with me, but obviously he isn’t here. I’m late and really don’t want to go by myself.” You turn and look at Sam with pleading eyes. “Would you please go with me?”

“Sure, let me go change.” He agrees.

“You are a lifesaver, I owe you Sam!” You call out to him as he walks back down the hallway.

Sam is happy to accompany you to your high school reunion, hell he is happy with any excuse to spend time with you that doesn’t include his brother. He is bothered that you didn’t ask him to begin with and went to Dean. Maybe it has a bit to do with how absolutely giddy you make him feel… okay it has a lot to do with it, but that’s something he will always deny.

“Hurry up! Let’s get a move on, Sammy!” You yell down the hallway as you quickly make your way to the garage.

— — — — — — — —

“Okay, It’s now or never.” You say to yourself, trying to hype yourself up as Sam pulls into the parking spot of the high school.

“I’ve never seen you this nervous before.” Sam points out, looking at you with those beautiful concerned eyes of his.

“Yeah, well the assholes we face on a daily basis are monsters and we can kill them. These assholes are people that I am legally unable to murder by decapitation or Cas’s magical angel powers.” You nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

“I bet they aren’t that bad.” Sam tries to look positively.

“Oh yeah, a nest of vamps isn’t that bad either.” You open the car door. “Let’s go get this over with Sam.” You sigh.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sam steps beside me, arms brushing as we walk up to the doors.

“Anything.” You nod.

“You seem reluctant to see them, were you a loner or something in high school?” He asks carefully as if you may bite back at the question.

“Quite the opposite,” You walk through the doors and down the hallway leading to the gym. The hall is lined with pictures of your class and you are in a vast majority of them. “I was very popular, but I just wasn’t an asshole and that didn’t always bode well with my ‘friends’.”

“Y/n?” A overly excited voice calls out your name, suddenly you are met by a tall blond with a skin-tight peach dress. “Oh, no way it’s you. I’ve missed you so much!” She pulls you into a hug. “And who is this handsome man.

“Nice to see you to Angelica.”

“Oh come on, you know it’s Angie!” She dramatically does a double take. “Well goodness me, you’ve gained weight.” She giggles, placing her hand on Sams bicep.

You looks around her into the dimly light room with colored lights flashing and people laughing. “Where’s the hazmat team?

“There’s no hazmat team silly.”

“Oh, I just figured with your toxicity levels, there would be one on standby.” You give a large fake smile, grabbing Sam’s hand and walking in.

“Wow,” Sam says quietly. “I see what you mean by assholes.”

“And we were best friends.” You groan.

“You want some punch?” Sam asks once through the doors and amidst the chaos.

“I’d love some,” you nod to the sign-in table. “I’m going to sign-in.

You walk over to the long table manned by a woman who looks very familiar, but you are unable to quite place. You offer up a small smile before picking up your name tag and neatly writing ‘Sam W.’ on a sticker badge.

“Y/n?” She woman asks, seeing my badge. “Wow, you’re just as beautiful as I remember.”

“Oh, thank you.” You smile, looking at her badge. ‘Rebeccah Paul.’

“You don’t remember me do you?” She asks.

“I don’t, I”m sorry.” You gently place the sticker on Sam’s shirt as he walks up, two cups on punch in hand.

“Oh, no worries, people have trouble recognizing me these days. I went by Beck back in school, hell I still do. You were the only person who was nice to me in those four years of hell.

“Oh, sweet library assistant, Beck. I remember you. You let me hide from Angie and Davis behind the desk.”

“That’s me!” She smiles proudly. “Did you hear they had three kids and then got a divorce. Davis got custody of the kids because Angie didn’t want them and then they got remarried.”

“Seriously?” You ask, pretending to be more shocked than you actually are.

“Yeah, but watch out. They both are still snakes.”

“I believe it, nice seeing you again Beck.” You wave as you turn around with Sam, bring the cup to your lips.

Both you and Sam are quiet for a while, just watching how everyone around the room interacts, standing like two oddballs out to the side. The two of you stand like that for a while before Sam gently takes the cup from your hand, setting it to the side and offering his large, warm hand as a gesture to ask to the slow song playing as background music and with a smile, you take it, letting him pull you close.

“Thanks for coming with me Sam.” You look up at him.

“No problem, but why did you want to even come anyway?” He asks sincerely confused.

“There’s something I have to do here tonight.” You sigh, “Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

“What is it that you have to do?” He asks, but the question goes through one ear and out the other as you see a small group gathering, a familiar one and at the head of the group are the two people you swore you never wanted to see again, Angie and Davis.

Sure, you’ve already run into Angie, but both her and Davis together are a nightmare. Sam catches you looking behind and and turns, unsure of what you are looking at until he sees the eyes staring daggers at you.

“Sam, kiss me.” You say quietly, looking up at him.

“What? I don’t know if-”

“Don’t argue. Just do it.” You interrupt him, standing up on your toes to gently plant your lips against his.

It takes nearly no time before he is dipping his head lower, slowly and cautiously walking you back the few steps to the wall that he sandwiches you against. Sure, this isn’t how you imagined finally kissing Sam Winchester, but beggars can’t be choosers, right? That and the kiss was damn good despite the circumstances.

“Y/n, it’s been a while.” Davis’ voice breaks through the barrier that is Sam and his intoxicating lips.

“Not long enough.” You groan.

“Ah, you must be the new guy.” Davis completely ignores you and reaches out to shake Sam’s hand.

“You better watch this one, she’ll fuck anything in sight.” He smirks at you.

“Oh, I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that yours isn’t one I’d go back to.”  You glare at him.

“Ah, it’s just a matter of time.” His smirk falls after being elbowed by Angie.

Sam just stands there, eyebrows furrowed with a look of confusion plastered on his face.

“Oh, did you not tell him?” Angie asks in a nasally voice. “Y/n has the biggest track record of fucking the boys, even down on some teacher her senior year.”

“Which was all rumors and speculation.” You roll your eyes. “But just remember, Karma’s a bitch.”

“Hello everyone, I am so glad to see all of you here today. We have someone you all know dearly who want to kick this reunion off… Y/n.” Beck looks at you with a look of mischief on her face.

“Oh, that’s me.” You put on a big, fake smile before walking to the mic.

“Good luck.” Beck hands the mic off to me.

“I’m going to skip the pleasantries and get right to the fun part. I’m sure you all remember the rumors that were spread about me our senior year. For years I tried to be the bigger person, to let that just slide off my back.” You turn to the group of former friends. “I tried to act as if I wasn’t bothered that my boyfriend was sleeping with my best friend behind my back and that she slept with Mr. Darby and said it was me. I think it’s high time to air out some dirty laundry.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Angie yells.

“I’m talking about how Davis is sleeping with his boss every Wednesday and Friday while you are at yoga. Oh, and how on the nights you are supposed to be at yoga, you are sleeping with his brother and his father. Oh, not to mention that his sweet children are actually his brothers.” The whole room goes silent. “Next time you try to ruin someone’s life, be careful who you are fucking with.” You snarl, snapping the mic back in the stand and running to Sam.

“Why was that?”

“That was my welcome speech, like it?” You grab his hand, knocking shoulders with a wide-eyed Angie as you leave.

— — — — — —

The two of you sit in the garage of the bunker, staring straight ahead in silence. The adrenaline you had earlier completely drained.

“So about earlier…”

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have done that.” You admit, “But they had pissed me off and I thought I had to get even.”

“Not that,” Sam shakes his head. “The kiss.”

“Oh, yeah.” You go quiet. “I may have wanted you to come to use them as an excuse to kiss you. I know that was wrong of me and definitely not how it should have happened”

“You wanted me to come so you could trick me into kissing you?”

“Yep,” Your face goes red as you look down at your hands.

“Can we get a do over? I think I could do better.” He leans in closer, voice dropping.

“I’m not sure if that’s possible, but you can try.”

Sam leans in, large hand resting gently under your chin. Your noses touch first, barely brushing as your lips near.

“Oh come on, get a room!” Dean calls out from outside the car, staring in with eyebrow raised.

[snakesnsnoodles]

2, 56 and 58

2. Who have you hurt the most?

That's a broad question, but I think I would have to say people that I’ve lashed out at or just ones I’ve cut out of my life.... I hate that I’ve hurt anyone, but I’m sure there is more  that I have hurt in my past, I just can't remember 

56. Have you ever seriously considered killing someone?

Yes, but thats in fits of rage and I usually get over it. Unless myself counts??? Hahaha

58. Have you ever experienced something supernatural or unexplainable?

Buckle up buttercup, I have a lot of stories. Mostly from my old house in childhood and the farm.  I’ll put it under the cut cause death mentions and such

cause long post is long

Woman in White and The Black Snake        When I was maybe 4 or 6 years old. My parents lived in the bedroom downstairs, my current room. I was(and still am) an nervous child and a very bad sleeper due to my constant nightmares.... When I was young, the second Harry Potter movie was out and I was terrified of the Basilisk(oddly enough cause now I think its cute???). So I would have this recurring nightmare where this giant black snake, not the Basilisk oddly enough, would chase me through my house and try to snatch me up. I would run around the house and it was alot like the scene in the movie where Harry was running through the tunnels and yeahhhhh. Anyways one night after this nightmare I was so scared I ran down to my parents room like I always would to get away. I would climb between them and try to sleep but I would end up staying awake anyways...    On this particular night, I came down and laid on the end of the bed instead, I didn't want to wake them up, I hated bugging them but I was so freaked. I heard a soft noise and I tensed up and looked around, thats when I saw it.. or should I say "her?"...A woman, dressed in a simple white dress, reaching her upper thigh, standing in the corner, she had long white curly hair and amberish, red/ or purple? eyes. She was so pale and beautiful, if not for the red slash across her throat and and the stains on her dress and pale glowing skin, I would have thought her to be an Angel. I sat up and pinched myself to make sure I was awake and she was still there. I was so scared I froze like ice. I could not move and I tried... I couldn't scream and I couldn't do a thing. She smiled and walked towards me, and then stopped and stood over the bed. She reached out to touch my face it was so cold, but hesitated. Her smile fade and she looked around seeming worried... then she vanished and I was freed from the ... spell? trance? I'm not sure... but the rest of the night I couldn't sleep and I kept hearing crying and the occasional shadow would dart around the room. I was so afraid I stayed awake until dawn, again.    In the morning I tried to tell my parents but mom got all weird and said it was my over active imagination, but it was so real and I was and still am convinced she was trying to tell me something...    The night after I had that snake nightmare again. But this time for some bizarre reason, I turned around and let the snake catch up with me. He stopped and looked at me with his bright toxic green eyes and we had a long staredown, he seemed to expect me to run, but I stopped myself. After what seemed like forever he leaned down and licked me, then after that in the dream, me and this snake played all night and I fell asleep against him in the dream, thats when I woke up, feeling  like I had the best sleep of my life. That was what probably started my obsession and love of snakes... I still don't know where or what was going on with the woman and I worried about it for years...    In the end I started to write a story involving the snake and the woman, I named the snake Daniel and the woman Onria....She's the main goddess in my story, and Daniel is her prophet... That whole experience spawned some of my earliest OC's....    I still on rare occasions dream about the snake, Daniel as I call him, but its rare... The Old Farm House / Hey Great Great-Grandpa! Where Is Your Leg?    When I was around 4th grade, we lived in Minnesota, far away from our house (we had the farmhouse and the one here in Manvel, but my dad owned the farm and mom owned the one in Manvel, they weren't married till i turned like 16, 17 years old tbh) Anyways, it was a house thats been in my dad's family since it was built. I had a bedroom in the upstairs and I lived under the attic. My mom and dad had a bedroom on the main floor along with the living room with a door so I could go in there and shut the door. Anyways I typically didn't sleep in my bedroom, I usually slept down on the main floor living room on the couch and fell asleep watching movies. But this night I decided to sleep upstairs in my bedroom with my hideaway couch/bed thing. I played some paper mario on my gamecube (oh my lord I feel old lol ), played with my hamster, and turned out the lights to go to bed. But of course as soon as the lights went out I heard some thumping around above my head... I got scared and fumbled with the light string (yes it was an old attachment thing haha, no switches upstairs) and I couldn't get it on.    Not long after that I heard a soft moan and the room turned cold. A man stood in the doorway squinting at me, he looked alot like my grandpa, but that was impossible because he was still alive at the time.... The man in the doorway was wearing an old time war outfit with one of the legs missing up to his hip. I just stared at him cause I was so scared. He blinked and pointed at the window and said something about the garage??? I looked at the window and looked back and he was gone.    So the next morning I go out to the garage, it was full of junk and stuff, never parked a car in it tbh. But anyways I went in and looked around and found a big jar. In the jar was some preservative fluid, and a fucking leg bone. Like the whole leg and foot. It was fascinating and I ran to the house to ask my  dad about it. (I didn't say anything about the supernatural hint because my parents never believe me...) He said I had found my great-great grandpa's leg, he had lost it long ago and they preserved it after they found it. It still messes with me that a dead relative pointed me to his dead body parts.    I rarely ever slept upstairs after that, cause whenever I did I would heat the knocking in the attic and it drove me nuts. Bump in the Night / Whispering Assault    Warning, this one MIGHT be triggering to you if you've been creeped on, maybe you should skip this one, just a heads up...    Alright. This one is the most recent of all the stories. And this one is a bad experience I have had/am still having..? Nothing has happened since my basement flooded ... but I'm still cautious of this one....    So. This started when I was still 18 and I'm now 20, so its been about 2 years.    Every so often in my house I stay up past 3am just to kinda work on doodles or watch videos, ect. On the first time this happened and I noticed it I was doodling, with no music on or any kind of noise. But suddenly I hear shuffling soft footsteps outside my room door. At first I thought it was my mom, but on how the hell she snuck downstairs without me hearing the upstairs door slam open, creak open, or the loud ass stairs, was my first hint that something was wrong. I got up and listened to the footsteps. They stopped, so I reluctantly laid back down in my bed. But as soon as I did that I heard the sounds of someone messing with the loud light switch, I got up much quicker and saw the light slightly flicker under the door, I stupidly opened the door as fast as I could, nothing was there but the air felt really heavy I slammed the light on. (At this point I've gotten brave when it comes to the supernatural seriously I've made it this far in life without dying) The room felt wrong and it felt like the dark was alive in the basement room across from me.... so I closed the door and locked it. I left my closet light on that night.    There was a few more incidents like this one where I would hear the noise, minorly freak out, and just try and ignore it. Then there was the two incidents... One where they approached me, and the second, when they spoke to me.    I shut off my electronics for the night and laid down in my bed (a weird coincidence my bed is in the same corner as where I first saw the lady in white, Onria. But this must be a different ghost, this one burns not freezes... o-o") As I was laying there, I had a scary feeling of being watched. I was too scared to look to the end of my bed but I felt the odd presence and pulled my huge comforter over my head. As soon as did this I felt something lay right on top of me, it was as heavy as a person, my heart was racing and I panicked and stayed under the blanket. I felt it feeling me up all over, it pressed against me, uncomfortably touching everything. I tried to struggle, but it held on tight. It was way to warm and I could hardly breathe. Finally the pressure released me and I reluctantly lifted the blanket to look and as quick as I could manage I turned all the lights in my room, it was gone.    The second and last time I heard from this same presence was maybe a couple months before the flood in my basement when the same-ish situation happened where I felt them lay on me, but much gentler this time.... There was weird and pleasant sensations. It was weird as hell and I felt breath in my ear and heard a woman speak, she said "its ok" and "I know about her" and then something about "You're not who you are". I felt a soft pressure on my lips and the presence was gone. I sat up quickly and remember seeing a soft flash of light outside my room and then it was gone.    After that I heard the noises very rarely and I still felt the darkness in the other room. I still get that feeling, usually upstairs now... In the end I am still to this day confused as hell.... and thats all my big experiences? 

[thesundanceghost]

Fall in Together

When Steve Harrington opened his door at 9 PM Wednesday night, the last thing he expected to greet him was the anxious face of his girlfriend’s little brother.

“Steve!” Mike exclaimed.  Steve kept frowning, looking around at the other kids standing behind Mike.  Lucas and Dustin were there, along with that new girl that Steve knew to be Billy’s sister Max.  The youngest Byers was nowhere in sight, but Steve wasn’t very surprised by that.  They all looked nervous, staring at him with wide eyes and harried expressions.  “Is Nancy here?”

Steve’s frown only deepened.  “No, I haven’t seen her since school,” he answered slowly.  Their faces all fell, and Mike looked terrified.  “Mike, what’s going on?”

Mike met his eyes and with a sinking stomach, Steve guessed the words he was going to say right before he said them.  “It’s Nancy.  She’s gone.”

Steve felt a wave of nausea pass through his stomach, but he tried to stay calm.  “What do you mean, she’s gone?”

Mike took a deep breath.  “She was acting weird today after school, and now we can’t find her anywhere.  And Jonathan’s been with his mom and Hopper all day, she’s not with him either.  We think… we think she went to the gate.”

The hand that was still on the doorknob tightened dangerously and he felt the blood begin to rush from his head.  “Nancy wouldn’t go there alone.  She wouldn’t do that.”

He tried to ignore the loud mantra in the back of his head.  Yes she would, yes she would, Nancy would do exactly that, of course she would.

Mike frowned, his lips pursing.  It was an expression he recognized from spending so much time around Nancy, and it was weird to see it on her baby brother. “Her gun’s gone, Steve.”

Steve felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.  His chest filled with fear and he thought back to earlier that day at school.

He’d known something was up from the moment he saw her lingering behind the brick wall when she should’ve been in English.  It hadn’t been hard to sneak away from class to go talk to her.

She hadn’t wasted time with pleasantries, immediately jumping into an explanation about how there was a new gate, she’d seen it, how there were new monsters, how something was wrong with Jonathan’s brother and how all of this was going to get worse unless they got down there first and stopped it, how she needed to do this.

The words had scared him, but mostly he was scared by how easily he believed her.  He missed the days where he could have brushed stuff like that aside with a laugh and a joke.

Nancy, stop it. He remembered how harsh he’d been, and how she’d gone quiet, blinking at him with wide eyes.  He hadn’t been able to help the sharpness of his words.  He was too worried, too terrified about what she was doing to herself.  You need to stop this, okay?  You can march down there and kill every last monster there is, but it’s still not bringing her back.  She’s dead.

She hadn’t said anything after that, and he didn’t blame her.  He’d regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth.  But he’d rather have her be pissed at him for being insensitive than see her kill herself over this fruitless mission of avenging her friend.  He knew her too well to not understand that that’s what this was.

Look, we’ll talk later, okay?  He’d said before walking away.  He hadn’t looked back, but now he wish he had.  Maybe then he would have seen the despair on her face fade into a sick determination as she made the decision to do it anyway.

He should’ve known this would happen.  He couldn’t believe he’d blown her off like that-- like he could ever stop Nancy Wheeler from doing what she wanted.  Part of him was pissed at her, furious that she’d thrown herself into danger like that without thinking about how it would affect her family and friends.  How it would affect him.  He wanted to be angry at her, but mostly he was just terrified.  

He needed to fix this.

Steve suddenly remembered the kids standing in front of him, all watching with scared expressions.  He took a deep breath.  “How’d you guys get over here?”

They frowned.  “We biked.” Dustin answered like it was obvious-- maybe it should have been.

Steve nodded, his brain whirring as he tried to sort through his thoughts.  “Okay.  Just… wait here for a couple minutes and I’ll drive you all home.  You shouldn’t be out there in the dark.”

He turned around and sprinted up the stairs.  As soon as he was in his room, he grabbed his backpack and dumped out its contents before beelining for his closet.

He heard a chorus of footsteps storming up his stairs and he sighed in exasperation as the group of kids appeared in his bedroom door.  He frowned in annoyance as they all glanced around, and winced when he saw Lucas and Dustin raise their eyebrows at the Heather Thomas poster by his bed.  He really should have taken that down by now-- but then again he didn’t expect to have a bunch of 13-year-olds hanging out in his room.

Mike was in front, looking extremely pissed.

“You can’t just ignore this, you asshole!” Mike cried and Steve flinched at the emotion in his voice.  “You’re supposed to care about her.  You’re supposed to protect her.”

There was a hidden meaning in that, Steve could hear it, but he didn’t know how to interpret it.  He turned towards them, keeping his eyes on Mike.

“I’m not ignoring anything, alright?” He promised, turning back to his closet.  He pushed the clothes on the rack out of the way and bent down, throwing aside old shoe boxes and stacks of clothes he’d meant to donate for months now.  Finally he spotted a glint of metal and his hand closed around a familiar wooden handle.

All the kids took immediate steps back upon seeing the bat, and the redheaded girl in the back let out a loud “holy shit.”

Even Mike seemed taken aback.  “Whoa,” he stammered.  “Is that-- from before?”

Steve nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on the weapon and trying not to remember too vividly all that had come with it before. He remembered a year earlier, offering it back to Jonathan awkwardly before the other boy had shaken his head firmly.

No, uh, it’s definitely yours, Jonathan had mumbled.  You deserve to keep it.

Steve hadn’t been exactly sure what to do with it after that.  He’d thought about just scrapping it, but he’d never been able to follow through, and it was simply left in the back of his closet, away from his parent’s prying eyes.  He had pulled it out occasionally, after rough nights or bad dreams just to run his fingers over it and remember what they’d done.  There were faint splotches of blood on it-- if you could even call what that thing had blood-- but the stains simply helped remind Steve that they’d won.  As time went on and the dreams became less and less frequent, he’d looked at the bat less.  Holding it now was the first time he’d picked it up in probably about three months.

“You’re gonna help?” Mike asked quietly, keeping his eyes on the bat.  “Really?”

Steve’s heart sank at the surprise in the young boy’s voice.  “Of course I am,” he assured him.  He was always going to help Nancy when she needed him, even if he tended to be a bit late in recognizing when those times were.

“So we’re doing this?” Max spoke up, and Steve paused at the wording.  “We’re really going down there?”

Steve snorted, setting the bat down on the bed before turning back to his closet, grabbing a jacket and pulling it on.  “I’m going down there.  You guys aren’t doing anything.  Like I said, I’m driving you home.”

There was an immediate chorus of protests.

“It was our idea!”

“You need our help!”

“She’s my sister!”

“You’re not coming with me,” Steve said, leaving no room in his voice for argument.  He cast a stern glance at Mike, who was glaring back at him.  “There’s no way I’m letting you guys do that.”

“Yeah you are,” Lucas said loudly, and Steve had to turn and frown at the confidence in his voice.  The other kids shot their friend a curious look, but Lucas just shrugged like it was obvious.  “Because you don’t know where the gate is.  And we do.”

Fuck.  He hadn’t thought about that.  Why couldn’t he have just asked Nancy where it was earlier?! Or better yet, why couldn’t he have just gone with her? “Yeah, well, I’ll figure it out.”

“That’ll take too long,” Mike pointed out.  His voice was almost smug now, like he knew they’d won.  “Nancy’s down there alone, and who knows what’s waiting down there? You don’t have the time to stumble around in the woods and hope you just fall into the gate.”

Steve raked a hand over his face.  He’d already felt terrible about this, but bringing kids into the mix?  He wasn’t qualified to watch over a bunch of pre-teens on a normal day, let alone on a goddamn rescue mission.

If Nancy knew he put her baby brother in danger’s way by bringing him to an evil alternate dimension, she’d never speak to him again.

Then again, if he didn’t find the gate in time and something happened to her while she was alone in said evil alternate dimension, she would really never speak to him again.

He looked up at the kids hopeful and anxious faces, taking a deep breath.

“Fine,” he grumbled after a long second.  Their faces lit up, but he quickly raised a hand.

“But--” he continued, making them all pause.  “I’m in charge.  No funny business, no running off, and if it gets too dangerous or anyone gets hurt, I’m calling it off.”

Lucas, Dustin, and Max traded annoyed looks, but they all nodded anyway.  Mike didn’t seem to care, a steady hope in his eyes that made Steve feel slightly nervous. He didn’t think anyone should be that excited about what they were about to do.

Steve sighed, looking past the boy to the other kids.

“The air’s supposed to be toxic, right?” Steve asked, looking around for confirmation.  After he got some nods, he paused thoughtfully. “Okay, down in the garage by the bikes there’s a box of old swimming goggles and stuff like that.  There should also be a box of gardening tools close by to that.  Try to find some gloves or something.”

The kids nodded and turned to leave.  Lucas and Max darted out the quickest, and Steve flinched at the sounds of them racing down the stairs, hoping they didn’t fall.  “Oh, and don’t touch anything else!” He called before shaking his head.  Mike was the last to leave, and Steve quickly stopped him.

“Mike, hold on,” Steve said, making the boy stop and turn, a puzzled look on his face.  Despite his confusion, he made his way back to Steve, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  Steve waited he heard all of the kids downstairs before speaking.

“You think she’s down there, right?  Your friend?” Steve asked quietly, keeping his eyes on Mike’s reaction.

Mike’s eyes darted around and he chewed on his lip worriedly.  It was answer enough for Steve.

“Look,” he started, hoping his voice conveyed his sincerity.  “I know you wanna find her.  I get that.  But if something happens down there and we need to get out, you need to follow me.  No staying behind and playing hero.  If I tell you to run, you have to run.”

Mike’s eyebrows furrowed.  “You’re not the boss of me.  I can take care of myself.”

Steve sighed.  The Wheelers and their goddamn loyalty and bravery was going to be the death of him.  “Mike, if you get yourself killed down there, what good will it do?  She wouldn’t want you to die for her.  You know that.”

“But--”

“Mike, I’m not letting you get hurt on my watch,” Steve cut in.  Mike’s shoulders slumped, and Steve could see the anguish in his eyes.  “Look, I promise we’ll do everything we can.  You just have to trust me, that’s all.  Because if you’re just gonna start running off as soon as we get there, I’m not taking you.  I’ll find the gate another way.”

“I won’t run off,” Mike said finally, and his eyes were honest.  “I won’t.  I want to find Nancy.”

Steve nodded, feeling a bit better about the situation, if only slightly.  “We will,” he said confidently.

He wasn’t lying about that-- despite all of the things he’d said to Mike about not dying for someone, he knew there was no way he was coming back from this mission without finding Nancy.  No fucking way.

“Alright, here,” Steve said, handing him the handful of bandanas he’d fished out from a shelf in his closet.  Mike quirked an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.  “What? I don’t have gas masks.  These are gonna have to do.”

Mike just snorted and shook his head, taking the bandanas.  Steve threw some lighters into the backpack before tucking the bat into it, zipping it up so it wouldn’t jostle around too much.

When they got downstairs, his living room couch was covered in all sorts of stuff-- goggles, gloves, flashlights, diving gear.  He raised his eyebrows at the couple of crowbars perched on the cushion, but when he caught Max’s gaze, she just stared back unfazed.

“So what’s the plan?” Dustin asked slowly, looking around at them all.  “Just storm in and start swinging baseball bats and crowbars?”

Steve let out a long breath and shrugged.  “It worked before,” he said, hoping that sounded more inspiring than it felt.  Anxiety was building in his chest, but he pushed it down.  “Let’s go.”

[gloieee]

Times Flies ?

Time is flying by so fast. Things feel like an eternity ago, yet at the same time, I can’t believe it’s the end of November, that it’s been 4 months since med school started, that it’s been [X weeks/ months] since some other big event in my life (which 2019 has been FILLED with). It seems time is going by faster than ever. I wonder if I’ve written about this before. Since 2018, life has just zipped by.

Belated interjection from 11/29, *To a certain degree I feel as though 2019 has been the most dynamic year for me, yet also one with the most internal changes. At least, the internal changes don’t necessarily line up with the external changes that have happened. They’ve been ironically out of sync—mundane, farcical events have led to large scale, disproportionately catastrophic changes in my values and life decisions. With all the emotions I’ve been feeling, I’ll likely write more on how I feel about 2019 later (once I (hopefully) pass my block and head back home for 2 weeks), but I will say, contrary to how I’ve felt at certain points, it’s been a great year. It’s funny to say it, because I do think I feel this way because my years prior sucked so much—thinking back to the years (literally) of one medical crises after another, romantic tragedies and toxicities, extreme uncertainty, horrible living situations and insane schedules, and emotional losses, I do think my Korean “3 years of Catastrophe” (although it felt like slightly more) has truly passed. And it feels damn fucking good. What happened this year seems more-or-less natural, normal tribulations of a mid-twenty something-year-old grad/med student with a lot of feelings, and I am so very grateful for that. (If I pass this final, which I’m genuinely afraid for for the first time in my life), I really do think everything will be fine.

In theme with the rush of time, the songs I’ve been listening to lately have been more about the vibe than the lyrics; more of an intense, fleeting sentiment rather than a deep, heavy rumination of the lyrics.  It’s been the kind of songs that zip by as you just bop your head running errands (or more rarely, study) or do some silly squiggly dances to as you rush to a social gathering/ meeting that will inevitably wreck you. Which is in a bit of a contrast to my previous posts. I think it makes a lot of sense given my state of mind. This is really the way I prefer myself to be—although, it’s hard for me to maintain long-term. Unfortunately, I’m often in this state only when I’m not dealing with real things, or issues of consequence in my life. But maybe one day, I’ll feel light and superficial even as real shit occurs. Not sure whether I want that, but just saying, maybe.

I was exalted when I discovered myself singing These Days by Mike Stud in my head, cause my very rare (if I do say so myself), horrible taste in a random ass song hits again. It brings me such giddiness. It’s Girls Love Beyonce and Drake 2.0. I don’t know if “Stud” is his real last name, but the brute tackiness and appropriateness of the name makes me snort. This song, which strikes me as having very low production value, maybe unironically, sums up “these days” for me very well. I love how non-committal he is, how he contradicts himself constantly, how he sounds like he’s just singing from a makeshift home studio in a garage that doubles as a bedroom cause it has a mattress on the floor, but is still so confident with it.

These Days- Mike Stud

Hell nah I ain't sleep today but I'mma be okay Miss my family on the east, but fuck it I can't leave L.A (It’s funny how I also miss my family on the east, just so much further)

Like, what's next, what's that, what's up I just wanna chill, drink, smoke, fuck Somehow you hot as hell but still cold as fuck

Bad bitch my only type, independent too, get it boo Just promise me you won't let all the bullshit they say get to you

I've been doing great I guess I can't complain I don't think about yesterday Every move is calculated, this shit ain't no guessing game

How many come ups until it's destiny How many come ups until it's meant to be I hear them talking, that don't get to me That ain't shit to me, same dude, different dream This is me

If you really wanna know, these women, man they come and go Cause one minute she's the one, the next you really never know

With so many things, I feel like they come and go. Time has been crazy, and it’s really beginning to feel like I’ll just really never know what’s in store. Not in any dramatic or negative way. I think before, when life was throwing shit curveballs, I (may have) thought once that stopped happening, I might be in a “stable place.” At least, I yearned to have some certainty in life. I’m realizing that my life is pretty stable for the first time ever, but that there still isn’t too much certainty. At least, I’ve been strongly yearning for certainty yet again these past few weeks and months (albeit in a different way than before). I’ve been thinking so much about my future, my career, my relationships for a while, and it struck me how little I know about what I want. Or how often what I want changes, but also doesn’t. It’s the most bizarre thing. I guess that’s the definition of “one minute [he/she/it] is the one, the next you really never know.” BUT, I think I’m becoming okay with that.

Another theme that has been recurrent is, I want to be bad lately (I suppose), as Mike and Still both elude to. But not actually bad—I think healthier in some regards, but bad from certain perspectives. It’s an arbitrary definition of “bad” though. I’ve always embraced being “bad” to a certain degree. As Mac says in Dunno: “She do whatever she like, and that just don’t seem right. Make people so mad, they want it so bad.” Now that I think of it, bad is such an interesting word to me. I feel like I’ve had a lot of thoughts about this before, that I can’t quite retrieve. I feel so much more emotionally stable inside though. Maybe that’s the definition of being bad to the core though, doing better when you’re doing objectively “worse” things. I’ve been feeling a bit like I have to let myself be bad to be good in certain regards—get shit done even if I don’t truly want to, try to explore these careers in a practical way, find an appropriate in. Be selfish about my time, let myself compartmentalize my indulgences to concentrated more intense, non-committal, millennial highs. There’s a certain duality to my days lately.

(But as an aside, I do think that when I’m single I’m less “wholesome.” It’s a bit of a disturbing thought, but I am less disciplined for the right reasons, less earnest for the right reasons. I always have more cravings for vices. It’s very odd because, it’s not at all like the people I’m with have less vices and prevent me from doing things, nor is it that they have SO many that I feel the need to be their savior. I just genuinely don’t think of it as much. I don’t think I’m less happy when I’m not in a relationship, since being in a relationship has often brought with it such heavy, distressing concerns, but I seem to indulge in things that I def don’t feel like I need when I’m in a relationship. I don’t like the connotations of this, but I’m noticing it so much that I’m single and also living alone again. Maybe it’s not just romantic relationships but the idea of a deep, somewhat binding relationship—since I didn’t feel this when I was in Korea. But then again, the options to indulge were much less in Korea. Honestly, I’m probably fine, I just overthink my “vices,” when they are entirely at a manageable level—but who am I kidding, I overthink always.)

A lot of the songs I’ve been listening to are disjointed, slight stream of consciousness, with a funky, breezy melody. Prime example Habit- Still Woozy:

I could let you have it You could be my habit You could be my woman, right I don't want you havin' My little one She is so bad Bad as the sun Well she break me then I fall I don't know the half of it anymore Yeah well, I could give a fuck about you She can get whatever she need Every time that she looked at me You know I felt weak in my knees

Funny how “still woozy” has been my dual state alongside (recently) extremely focused these past few weeks. I don’t really know what he’s talking about, but I vaguely vibe with it. Habits, I’ve been thinking about them a bit again. Some habits I want to break, some I’m starting up again. Sometimes I feel like I just replace one habit for another—and despite the textbooks, I think it’s very effective for me. Don’t we all need a habit? (throwback to Andre and his “habit to call”) But maybe I just don’t know the half of it anymore, and I’m saying nonsense. Despite my conclusion-less thoughts, I also could hardly give a fuck; they could really get whatever they need, it wouldn’t bother me. Finally is a strong word, but for lack of a better word I feel like finally, I’m in a good state of not caring too much; I’m just vibing and enjoying and appreciating some things in a measured way.

Too High (feat. Jesse)- Goody Grace

I love ridin' through the city with you Hear you talk about your silly issues, oh You drive me wild, oh—oh And babe, I wanna smoke and Fall asleep on your floor Tell me if you're alright Did I get ya too high? Your dad would kill me if he knew what we were doin' babe And if he finds us, I swear I won't have a clue what to say

I don’t really resonate with any of the lyrics in this song (well not any—I guess I don’t resonate with the sentiments of the song) but for some reason was listening it to it on repeat. I love the slow, distinct strums of the intro, it just hits a chord with me. I love their voices, especially when they sing “Your dad would kill me if he knew what we were doin' babe”. This line always makes me chuckle, cause I think of my own father, and totally do agree that that’s how he would feel about a lot of things in my life (he’s such a wonderful, kind man though, bless his heart—who I’m beginning to appreciate so much more as I grow older). They sound just so genuinely sweet and earnest as they talk about wanting to smoke with this girl they really like, which I think is such an endearingly gen Z combination. I can really tell how much he wants to smoke (with this girl) through his soulful falsetto and there’s something so comforting about a vice being so casual and sweet. Something so incredibly light about it. So little consequences. So not serious, such fleeting genuineness, and I really appreciate that right now.

Switching it up to something a bit more serious and moody, Girls in the Suburbs Singing Smith Songs (feat. G Eazy) by Goody Grace. (Lol at G-Eazy, I do like his songs but I just can’t ever take him seriously. His lyrics are just so corny a lot of the time, like middle school standard of cool). I’m quintessentially and literally a girl in the suburbs singing Smith songs on the regular, so I do feel a little targeted.

She don't hit me up anymore, no Things that were fun just ain't fun anymore, no Six in the morning I know I should go home But I'm High as fuck and the clock's screaming tick-tock Girls in the suburbs singing Smiths songs I know that it's wrong I don't know what I'm doin, but

I love how he admits that he knows singing Smith songs in the suburbs is wrong, haha. Indeed, it’s one of those activities that seem innocuous but are totally not. It’s never good if you’re belting to the Smiths as they sing Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now. And the Pixies (drunk off whiskey). I do it all the time of course. I love how new-age/throwback emo this song is.

Maybe one day it'll all make sense But I just don't know when And it feels like the end And all of my friends Said That I should get my mind off of the wrong things (I should probably tear off all my heartstrings You can’t pull them no more) Maybe one day it’ll all make sense

This is also such a real, emo sentiment that I’ve felt and feel so often. All of my friends. Too many of my friends. I do love how there’s really no conclusion to what he’ll actually do. All conjecture, because that’s really how it be most of the time. Maybe, maybe one day it’ll all make sense.

While we’re on this path of somewhat heavy inquiries, this song was my one and only for a while a few weeks back, again without any clear reason. Again, listening to the vibe of a song without really caring about the lyrics, except with the opposite emotional valence from the other songs on this playlist

Skydive II (feat. 6lack)- Boogie

You pull up with no warning, uh This the season for us growing Let's go deep in the unknown then, uh But by evening we'll be mourning You leave me with no warning, uh Look at you lettin' the cold in No, I ain't movin', I'm frozen, No, I ain't bitter, I'm broken, At least you could give me a warning

Mother of my skies, why you always gotta intervene? Father of my time, don't you got some more to give to me? Anything, anything

You clouded my judgment, uh Talkin' bout stayin' in I blame you for being petty and Tellin' me pull up when you ain't ready and All the dates that you didn't bed me But we don't go 'cause The going out get weird and Come to the understanding We can't overcome them fears, with Without them to start clear (Haha)

But how will I know if I fell in love? You're making it cold Could've sent me a text alert Could've lit off one of them little red flares, smoke in the air Somebody somewhere noticed the color Heart starts to stutter, flutter Mother, sky, I'm listening to Young Gunna

Ugh 6lack strikes again. His lines don’t even make sense most of the time, but I feel like I get it exactly, like he gets it exactly. “Mother of my skies, why you always gotta intervene?/ Father of my time, don't you got some more to give to me?” This reminds me of Biking by Frank Ocean. Bargaining with God or some larger being, except less intensely so. Just a little exasperation—along the lines of saying “could’ve sent me a text alert,” “tellin me pull up when you ain’t ready.” It’s the more casual, less serious version of Biking, and that’s exactly how I feel (embodied by that laughter after stating something serious). I feel like this song has been a lot of this year for me—constantly conflicting sentiments and progression of events (you pull up with no warning, we say it’s time for some growing and so we go deep in the unknown, but then you leave with no warning). But I ain’t bitter; tis still the season for us growing. I love how there’s again no real conclusion—the song literally ends abruptly, calling upon those higher beings and telling them they’re just listening to Young Gunna. I guess that’s literally me—all these thoughts and fleeting realizations, but at the end of the day I’m just listening to some tunes.

All I really got is Georgia on my mind, not really anything else. Georgia by Kevin Abstract is a little more similar to Still Woozy. A little stream of consciousness, fast pace, disjointed tidbits.

I got Georgia on my mind, ain't nobody left behind It's just me, my team, my weed, my baby's Audi parked outside Call my mom and let her know that everything is alright

Smoke and fuck, we high as hell We gon' love each other, we let the night derail Only time will tell, I'm under your spell I lay on your chest, you wonder what's next I love when you breathe, it make me reflect

I'd get my ass whipped, I learned my lesson

Smoke and fuck, I do let the nights derail a lot, I reflect. Not exactly as Abstract says, but I guess some similarities. I do call my mom and let her know that everything is alright. And I do really think it is. I definitely got my ass whipped, for sure. Hopefully I’ve also learnt my lesson too.

I finally found peace, I suck when I get it I see worth in myself, I won't run away again I'm prayin' for my friends, they prayin' this won't end But I know it does, just like all things In the end, it's just me and my mood swings

The conclusion is hilarious and amazingly apt. I do suck when I find peace sometimes. Good things and bad things all end, just like all things. In the end, it’s just me and mood swings!!! Has anything summed me up more?

Netflix and Dusse- Smino

I got a pizza on the way, bae, bae I'm tryna lay, lay Lil' lady, ayy, I brought a bouquet of the treefer And I'm feelin' like we should d-d-duck away Netflix and Dusse And if I do say so myself, that ass a creature

She make me-e-e-e-ee-e-e-e-e-----

Shawty text that, "Come swoop Better yet come soon

Yah-ga-da-be-da-mm-dye (dye, dye-dye)

Last but not least (or actually yes), an honest funky bop of how I feel. He’s basically just making funny noises and that’s me all the time. I’m so so into Smino again. He’s so smoke and chill and be funky and silly that I’m getting the wrong rep from some people, but I can’t help but be into his perfect mix of moody vs. chill vs. vibey. This absolutely inconsequential fun dissipates the confusion & seriousness & (sorta) peace of the previous tracks. It’s a tongue-in-cheek palate cleanser, and it’s exactly how I’m living my actual days.

11.26.2019/ 11.29.2019

[letsbejoyfools]

1. You’re on Edwards!

San Fransisco, California, 

Inspector Logan Edwards could’t remember the last time so many cars were parked in front of one of his client’s house - although the term "client" is a concept Logan liked to keep to himself. Certainly the "newbie" (the nickname had stuck even after two years of service) was already teased enough by his fellow police investigators, that he could pass on them mocking him for his odd terminology. But if there was one thing the 27 years-old inspector had quickly learnt throughout his first few years in the criminal investigations department, it was that his job could be ugly. Therefore after a few sleepless nights filled with vivid nightmares of agonizing and dead bodies, Logan quickly developed some sort of protective shield. 

Taking a few steps back from the morbidity of the situation, he then considered himself a lawyer defending an indictment for a client. Except in his case, said indictment was the perpetration of murder and said client no longer belonged to this world. A strange thought process people might think…but it was in those terms that Inspector Edwards was examining the corpse lying on the floor of the kitchen he was currently standing in.

The first thing Logan noticed was the throng of people crowding the room ; something he immediately found suspicious since it was supposedly just a standard accident procedure. That’s what he was told 40 minutes earlier when Lieutenant Clark Taylor required his immediate presence at the victim’s domicile. ‘Gas incident on Funston St. One victim. Get your arse over here.’ Taylor had sent him the text in his infamous ever so polite tone. Now, after running relentlessly around the lovely neighborhood of Presidio Heights where he was due to arrive ‘asap’ - as his boss so gently requested - a stream of discontent was slowly but surely invading Inspector Edwards’ bloodstream like a toxic intravenous injection. 

Because one thing about Logan was that he absolutely despised being confused, especially in a job-related environment. And in that moment, Logan was in a state of upmost disconcertment. The men around him were agitated and seemed to be torn in two opposite directions. ‘Since when does the police need that many men to assess the aftermath of an unfortunate gas incident that caused the death of a hapless guy?’ thought Logan. ‘So what, a guy came home, forgot to turn his gas off and the next thing you know the FBI barges in?’ 

The craving for explanation extricated Logan from his flooding nonsensical thoughts. In a few seconds he spotted Lieutenant Taylor and had barely the time to open his month when Clark started filling him in on the situation. "I know it’s a freakin’ mess. I called you in as soon as we got here and it took these fuckers 10 minutes to realize the dude’s wife was also dead in their bedroom. Hence why we’re fuckin’ crammed on top of each other." 

The house was nothing big, really ; but its astute architectural arrangement gave it a modernistic outline not devoid of practicality. The front door, situated on the far right-hand side of the house, directly led onto a relatively open area. A few steps to the left, was all it took to reach the center of the house embodied by the dining room - if you could call it a dining room that is. Mainly, it was just an elegant solid wood table placed on a refined rug, standing between the cooking area on the left and on the right a wall that enclosed (from furthest to closest) a guest room, a bathroom and the master bedroom Lieutenant Clark was referring to. The kitchen counters were assembled in a U-shape facing the dining table and were surrounding a small center island which provided an ergonomic and satisfactory large working zone. A little further down the ‘dining room’ and behind the kitchen, was a quite spacious living room adorned by two average size cloud-looking sofas facing a large TV. 

Inspector Edwards only nodded as the two men headed towards the bedroom in question, and waited for the main report. "We should be outta here fast though, the case is pretty simple." He took a short pause and explained some more. "Linda Morris, that’s her name. She was found dead in her bed. Same thing, asphyxiation."

The room was submerged in profound darkness thanks to the thick black curtains camouflaging the window. The repulsive scent lingering in the air was immediately captured by Logan’s nostrils, testing the sensitivity of his gag reflex. It was certainly not the first time the inspector had to breath the same air a dead could no longer inhale. As discomforting as it may sound, Logan knew how death smelt. Unceremoniously tossed in a bin of a dark alley ; laying in the serenity of a luxurious hotel room or lost in the vastness of a corn field, Inspector Edwards had seen, smelt, and even felt death in all its forms. 

However in that moment the stench startled him by its unfamiliarity. The odor dangerously tickling his nose was a sordid mix between sickness and oddly…vanilla candles. Logan took a minute to inspect the room, an exhaustive list of little mental notes forming itself from the most relevant observation to the most insignificant detail. 

Because everything had to make sense. 

The bedroom wasn’t messy per se, but displayed enough personal effects for Inspector Edwards to draw a consistent profile of his new ‘client’. This was yet another thing about Logan : he didn’t need much to get the bigger picture. It was a routine, almost part of his inner clock. ‘Observe, retain, deduce.’ A habit so deeply engraved in his procedural memory, it came as spontaneously as sneezing. So the pair of pants and socks meticulously laid on the radiator and the tablet of ibuprofen left on the nightstand had been added on the list just a moment after he first crossed the threshold of the door. 

"The poor girl must have knocked herself out to sleep," Taylor’s head motioned toward the medication, "coulda maybe escaped the gas if it weren't for the pills…" he finished earnestly. Logan only hummed in acknowledgment, as he approached the bed to take a closer look at the victim and her surroundings. She looked almost peaceful, wrapped up under the thickest comforter he had ever laid his emerald eyes on. She was on her side in a fetal position, facing the nightstand where stood an empty mug and the half-used pills. He bent over the mug in order to smell the remainders of its content, but it was only for confirmation. His verdict was already made.

"She didn’t knock herself out, she was sick." He simply stated.

"Sick? Why do you reckon so Edwards?" Asked his boss in a curious tone.

"Remember two days ago, it rained all day and the wind was so hard it knocked some trees over. She must have gotten a cold because her clothes were drenched. That’s why she put them on the radiator instead of the dirty laundry basket," he pointed at the pants. "Plus she lit a vanilla candle, and made herself a cup of hot chocolate. S’what my mum used to do when I was feeling poorly… candles and cocoa," Logan explained simply to the Lieutenant. 

"Impressive Edwards," he said relatively emotionless. "Might have to put you on the next serious case huh?" chuckling to himself, his eyes left his agent’s tall frame and he exited the room without muttering another word. The right corner of Logan’s lips curved ever so lightly before he found his way back to a slightly less packed kitchen, much to his delight. Indeed, the two gas experts hired to examine the gas cooker - presumed origin of the leak - were now gone, leaving only Lieutenant Taylor, the Chief of the Fire Department of San Fransisco and two other detectives hunched over the second lifeless presence the house was hosting.

Instinctively, Logan went over every detail of the kitchenette, scrutinizing the slightest corner in hope to spot any revealing peculiarity. Much like the rest of the house, the cooking area was undeniably clean. No dirty dishes were lazily lingering in the sink and the immaculate marble-like counter was free of any unwanted scattered crumbs. ‘It was a pretty neat family’ was the conclusion Logan drew. The only apparent appliances were an old-fashioned teapot settled on the side of the stove, and a plate holding a half-eaten takeaway pizza, judging by the cardboard box carefully placed on top of the bin. 

One quarter of the missing half laid on the floor a few feet away from the man’s body - buttered-side pathetically facing the fancy ceramic tile. Inspector Edwards didn’t need a degree in rocket science to figure out the location of the last quarter of the culinary puzzle. A quick autopsy would surely confirm the dismal fate of the remaining slice. Logan allowed himself a disconcerted sigh before turning around and partaking in the soon-to-be-over conversation his boss and the high-ranking fireman were having.

Surprisingly so, Lieutenant Taylor quickly brought Logan into the discussion by summarizing the exchange his agent had just missed. "Edwards, Chief Hayes here and his men confirmed our suspicions ; the gas was simply left on after usage until the tank emptied itself". He then faced towards the victim and further explained. "Ian Astroff, 37, owner of a garage all the way back in Richmond District. He was found by the housekeeper. She comes over once a week usually on Tuesday mornings. She called as soon as she found him, completely freaked out. Anyway, the coroner’s diagnosis corroborates the leak theory. Said their time of death coincides and their body’s condition shows every symptoms of asphyxiation. He also said no autopsy required. The poor guy is probably the one responsible for this drama if you are right about her being sick and all that…" 

Logan nodded unconsciously still processing his boss’ verdict with a thoughtful expression plastered on his face, when Chief Hayes announced his departure. "Alright gentlemen, it was a pleasure to meet you despite the nature of this regrettable situation ; although I’m still relieved there is not danger for the neighborhood." He added a genuine "have a nice day" before exiting the house. 

Furrowed brows, Inspector Edwards silently conveyed his perplexity over the Chief’s last words before asking. "Danger for the neighborhood?" Clark answered abstractedly. "The main reason the fire department came here was to make sure there was so dysfunction with the gas system. All the houses ‘round here were constructed by the same company at the same time. If they were in anyway related to this accident, it could be a freakin’ disaster." 

The lines on Logan’s forehead smoothed with understanding, but the wheels in his brain were still turning judging by the intensity of his emerald eyes staring at the body still spread on the floor. When he finally cleared his throat to speak, his eyes didn’t shift an inch from their inanimate target. "We don’t have to worry about it though, it’s clearly not a dysfunction," he stated in an austere tone. Logan must have felt the odd stare the Lieutenant Taylor was directing at him, because he then looked up at his interlocutor. "It wasn’t an accident either. I think Ian Astroff and Linda Morris were murdered." 

Dumbfounded, Clark glared at him more persistently - if that was even possible. His eyes creased and his jaw fell slack in a ‘what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about’ way. Curiosity got the better of him and he confoundedly inquired with arms whirling above his head. "What in hell makes you think that?!" 

If Inspector Edwards was impressed by his boss’ sudden change in demeanor, he sure did a great job at not letting it reflect exteriorly. Instead, he remained collected and simply said to his awaiting superior, "There was no reason for the gas to be on."

There was a heavy pregnant pause before Lieutenant Taylor - who had already recovered form his outburst - decided to put an end to it. "That’s all you have?" he said it more like a statement. "How can you even be sure of what you’re putting forward?" 

His skepticism didn’t take Logan’s confidence down though. With more zest the inspector started sharing his reasoning with a frustrated Clark, each word a step forward in convincing him. "Just think about it for a second. The guy was eating takeaway pizza ; even if he had to heat it up he would have used the microwave. And as we established earlier, Ms. Morris was sick for the past two days."

"Alright, but you forgot the teapot" his boss tried to reason with him, but it seemed Logan had an answer for everything.

"Have you seen any mug around here?" He rhetorically asked, turning his upper body as if looking for the mug in question.

"Again you forgot there is one sitting on her nightstand" countered Clark.

"Again, it was filled with cocoa. She didn’t need boiling water for that. Besides, I lifted the teapot ; it’s empty."

Another silence settled between the two men whose thoughts were currently racing from all sides. Logan was trying to judge his boss’ reaction, while Lieutenant Taylor was processing the new theory. This time Inspector Edwards spoke first, voicing one last attempt to persuade his colleague. "Listen, something just doesn’t sit right. These persons were attentive, I mean look around the house, nothing’s out of place, it’s borderline OCD. Besides, you said Astroff worked at a garage right? He would know better than fiddling with the gas in his own house don’t you think?" 

For a few flashing seconds, the crease in Lieutenant Taylor’s eyes reappeared. Then he released a long sigh, his expression unreadable, keeping Logan on his toes, heart speeding up. "You’re a wanker, you know tha’?" he said dejectedly although the hint of a smirk was definitively threatening the serious expression he was trying to keep. "I guess your serious case might have come sooner than expected huh." Logan’s eyes were already starting to shine brighter. "You’re on Edwards!" the Lieutenant exclaimed before tapping his man’s shoulder and making his way out. Logan was beaming.  

[thegraydivide]

DGM Week || Day 7

Walking Out

“If I was going to need all these things when I get to France...why did you leave them in Britain?”

“I’ll have more time to disappear this way.”

Allen Walker, age sixteen, deliberately slowed his huff into a sigh while glaring balefully at Cross Marian, who was as sensitive about his age as stereotype claimed women were. They were an unlikely pair and if anyone asked, they’d call each other uncle and nephew.  The lie was barely tolerable on both sides.  They had...a relationship which wasn’t toxic, but ‘familial’ was not a word either would use to describe it.

Cross pulled into Indira Gandhi International Airport and headed for a drop-off point.  He’d held onto Allen for longer than he’d actually needed (or even wanted) to, but air travel for unaccompanied minors under sixteen was too much a pain to work out.  And there were complications Allen wouldn’t have a clue about until he reached Britain.  He didn’t want to deal with the inevitable explosion once the kid found out about those.

Allen straightened in his seat as Cross guided the rented car to the front doors of the airport.  He began side-eyeing his guardian and waited.

“What?”

“You really are despicable, Teacher,” Allen started.

“I rescued your ass and took care of it, too,” Cross retorted, sounding aggrieved.  “You don’t get to call me things like ‘despicable’.”

“When were you going to tell me I don’t exist on paper?”

Komui Lee stumbled into the living room on route the kitchen.  Habit dictated his attention being drawn to the oversized clock which took up the entirety of one wall.  It was a very unusual clock - one he had built personally after seeing it in a movie.  It still told time properly, but there were extra needles pointing to various words which had nothing to do with time.  Each of those needles was different color.  There was a chart of names which the colors represented for visitors hanging nearby.

A lavender needle represented his little sister and it was currently pointed at the wrought iron icon of a house.

Komui grinned delightedly and with a sudden burst of energy, continued on into the kitchen.  The coffee pot was already filled thanks to its programmable nature (how the universe once functioned without them was an unsolvable mystery) and Komui poured himself a cup to sip on while he pulled out the fixings for a massive breakfast.

Lenalee was limping slightly when she came into the kitchen, looking exhausted.  Komui did not bring it up.  Instead, he slid a large plate filled with every breakfast food item imaginable along with a glass of orange juice in front of her when she sat, leaning over as he did so to give her a warm hug.

“Welcome home, Lenalee.”

Lenalee twisted to hug him in return, her arms nearly tight enough to bruise.  Her ‘trips’ away from home never went well, but things must have gone extraordinarily bad this time. Komui tightened his own hold.

“Good morning, Brother.”

“Were you dropped off?” Komui asked, returning to the oven to shovel his own portions onto a second plate.  “I heard a car last night.”

Lenalee shot him a puzzled looked, but shook her head.  “No, I came home the usual way.”

“Huh...maybe I was dreaming,” he mused.  He moved the various pans to the sink to let them soak while he and his precious sister ate.  He had to have been dreaming.  They had no neighbors - unless one counted the constantly absent Cross Marian as a neighbor.  All the other houses stood empty.  There was no reason to have heard a car going down the street at all.

Unless....

Komui dropped his fork and stood to retrieve his tablet.  Lenalee glanced at him curiously, but continued to eat.  From the tablet, he accessed the security cameras along the street and played the footage from last night, expecting to see nothing.

Instead, he saw a car.

To be accurate, he saw a black Pontiac Firebird Trans Am.

Komui checked another camera and zoomed in on the license plate.  It matched the number of Cross’ black Pontiac Firebird Trans Am.  Meaning he had heard Cross driving down the street.

He pulled up the feed of the front of Cross’ Victorian Gothic mansion and watched the Firebird pull into the drive, pause to wait for the gates to open, and then drive around back where Komui knew a detached garage was hidden from view.

Komui fast-forwards the rest of the night, fully expecting to see the car leave again.  Except it didn’t.  The car never reappeared and the feed caught up to real time.

“Lena.  Be a dear and help me make a few calls,” he said.  “Cross Marian came back last night and miraculously, he’s still home.”

“Why am I here again?” said a sour-faced Japanese young man.  Like Lenalee, he’d just gotten home a few hours ago.  He was holding a katana in crossed arms and sulking. 

“Because we need the backup,” Lenalee said, walking on air well above the heads of her peers thanks to her boots and testing the windows alongside Gwen Flail (who was balancing on the crossguard of her extended chain-whip longsword), which was what Yu Kanda and Suman Dark were doing on the ground level.  Despite the fact Klaud Nyne had agreed to serve as bait, Cross was not answering the front door.  Lenalee had knocked on the windows of Cross’ bedroom and wasn’t responded to either.

“Hey!  I found an unlocked window!” Gwen called, jumping through and reaching back to grab her weapon and deactivate it.

Lenalee skipped through the air and followed her inside, looking down at the two men, “We’ll try to sneak down to let everyone in, go tell Brother and Miss Nyne.“

Suman stared uncertainly after the women as they vanished into the house and then turned his gaze on Kanda. “This guy has a reputation with womanizing, doesn’t he?  Shouldn’t we go with them?”

“Only if you want to be shot,” Kanda replied tersely.  He whistled sharply and two large dogs came bounding to heel.  The grumpy teenager went stalking off to the front door and Suman trailed after him, still uncertain.

Allen wasn’t able to get to Cross’ mansion until very late in the evening.  Even with a GPS, he had gotten lost more than once.  It’d taken some doing on the British politician’s part to wrangle him a license at his age, but that was how big the favor the politician owed Cross.  Allen had liked Graham - they’d bonded over a shared irritation about the man while Allen had waited to get proper legal documents.

He’d been surprised Cross was letting him drive his personal car (which had been parked at the Paris Orly Airport for eight years), rather than forcing him to get a taxi or something.  Granted, Cross had attached to the note to the keys threatening him within an inch of his life if anything happened to the vehicle.

After reaching his destination , Allen stopped by a 24-hour store to do shopping for his most immediate needs.  A more thorough trip would have to be conducted tomorrow - he was exhausted.

Cross’ personal golem, Timcanpy (which Allen may or may not have kidnapped before getting out of the car back in India) woke him up bright and early with an extremely bite on the ear.  Allen didn’t bat him away for it, since he’d asked for the golem to make sure he was awake in spite of the late arrival, but it was a shame Timcanpy didn’t have some alarm feature based on noise.

He hadn’t explored Cross’ mansion much last night beyond locating the kitchen to stuff his groceries into.  He had been planning to do his exercises in the yard, but Timcanpy had led him into an oversized basement (and that explained, probably, why Cross had such a big property) which was set up as a gym.  It was tailored for Cross’ personal regimen clearly and included a gun range on the south end.

Allen eyed the display of various guns and wondered if one of the keys on the key ring he’d gotten from the box Mother had given him went to any of those locks.  Cross had taught him how to shoot.  Innocence for Akuma, the mundane for humans - Allen had never had the tragic problem of accidentally confusing humans for Akuma, but he was alone in that ability.  He should practice, though.

Resolving to figure it out later, Allen ran through his exercises, making a mental list of things he need to alter for himself (a bigger area for tumbling practice, for starters).  The gym turned out to have a shower in it too, which Allen used. 

When he got out, he found Timcanpy had vacated the gym, but didn’t think much of it. He was focusing more and more on his hunger.  He was so hungry he was practically hallucinating the smells of breakfast.  Hopefully, he had time to make everything he’d purchased last night.

He didn’t realize he wasn’t hallucinating until he turned into the dining room and found that Cross’ home had been invaded by half a dozen people and found them eating his food in.  Allen stopped and stared.  They all stopped and stared too.  Both sides were silent.

Timcanpy, he noted, was being held prisoner by a monkey sitting on the shoulder of a blond woman with an impressive set of facial scars.

Allen, dressed in only a pair of sweats, hair damp, with a towel over his bare shoulders to absorb the wet, could not find the words to break the silence.  He pushed his hair out of his face and tried anyways.  “Uhhh....”

“What the fuck is wrong with your face?”

Allen stared at the speaker - Japanese, male, with long hair and two giant dogs laying at his feet.  Allen still felt completely wordless, but he saw the moment everyone in the room spotted the star over his left eye.

Everything then dissolved into chaos.

The Chinese man was tackled by a German man and the Japanese man and a Welsh woman were crossing the room fast as lightning.  There was suddenly a giant monkey looming over him.  Two swords were coming at him and Allen barely managed to activate his arm in time to block the blows, though he wasn’t able to do anything to stop the giant primate from pinning him to the ground.

Allen gasped at the pain, intense and unexpected, but did not scream.  He could not think of a time his arm had ever been injured.  The pain was new and that made it hurt worse.

“Wait, wait, wait!” someone was shouting.  “Is that Innocence?”

Allen was still breathless, but he sensed pressure from a touch near the glass cross in the back of his hand and a woman spoke, “Yes...it is.”

“He has an Akuma star on his head!” another woman declared.

“I’m cursed,” Allen managed to wheeze and deactivated his arm.  “It’s a curse.”

The Chinese man (looking a little ruffled) was allowed to approach, though the German fellow and Chinese woman seemed reluctant to allow it.  The monkey was still pinning him down.  Timcanpy was suddenly in his face, bobbing in a worried manner.

"Who are you?” the Chinese man asked.

“Allen Walker.  I’m Cross Marian’s student.”

The scarred woman made a soft noise of disbelief, “The last time someone suggested Cross take a student, he vanished for three years.”

“He said he was sending a letter of introduction to someone named Komui Lee,” Allen said through gritted teeth, voice rough.

Everyone turned on the Chinese man, who was sipping coffee from a mug.  Allen stared at him too, suspicious.  “...Are you Komui Lee?”

“Brother...,” the Chinese girl muttered.

“I have a call to make!” Komui announced, and...proceeded to flutter out of the room.

The pressure on his torso vanished and Allen found a tiny monkey in his hair and went cross-eyed when the little creature leaned down into his face to chatter at him.  With his human hand, he reached up to give the animal a scratch.

A hand was stuck into his face and when he looked up, he saw the scarred woman offering to help him stand.  He took it, holding his Innocence limb close to his chest.  He was growing increasingly aware he wasn’t wearing anything to conceal the wrinkled red flesh of his Innocence and tried to be discrete in covering at least his shoulder with his towel.

“Sorry,” the Welsh woman said, eyeing the bright white tears on his left arm.  The sword-wielding male made an annoyed sound, but didn’t apologize.

“I’ll go get some medicine from the medical wing at school,” the Lee sister said and left as well.

“I said the fridge looked packed for a parasite-type,” the German man said suddenly.

“So you did,” the scarred woman remarked, holding out her hand to the monkey.

Allen winced a little from the tug on his hair as the monkey transferred perches with a jump.  “And...you all are?”

“Klaud Nyne - I’m one of Cross’ peers,” the scarred woman said.  She pointed to the others.  “Gwen Flail, Yu Kanda, and Suman Dark.  Komui’s little sister who just left is named Lenalee.”

“And you all decided to invade my house because...?”

“We thought you were Cross,” Klaud answered.

And that explained everything.