#i have no written in three years and i am super rusty

[primalmagic]

stars in the noon sky

linh's coming over, marella's room is a mess, and she's just a little bit stressed about her mom.

──────────

Marella tightens the red bow in her hair for the one millionth time, humming softly to her favorite song. It'd been playing on repeat for an hour now, but she hadn't been paying attention- her mind was occupied with... something else.

Finally satisfied with how she looks, she closes a cabinet door. As she wipes a suspicious stain off of her mirror, a sharp knock echoes across the bathroom walls.

"Marella, darling, what have you been doing in the bathroom for so long?" Caprise's clipped and unfocused voice floats through the door.

Fuck.

"Nothing, Mom! Do you need anything?"

"I want to take a bath."

"You alright took two baths today," she frowns, nearing the door.

"I want to take a bath," Her mother repeats stubbornly.

She unlocks the door and lets her mother in. It was one of her mom's good days anyway, and the last thing she wants to do is make things worse. See, ever since she had manifested and started throwing fireballs everywhere, something had shifted between the two of them. Because yes, she'd stood up for Marella, but now she was more... skittish around her. Maybe she was reading into it too much, but it made her feel sick. It wasn't her fault she was a pyrokinetic.

"Just be out by the time Linh comes, okay? I'll see you then." She kisses her mother's cheek and leaves the bathroom, ignoring the confused look on Caprise's face- she either forgot Linh was coming over, or forgot who Linh was.

She spends the next two hours tidying up her room, which was saying something, because Marella Redek absolutely hates cleaning up her room. It isn't just a chore, it's absolute torture. Plus, it's not like anyone has ever bothered to remind her to clean it. Her dad barely interacts with her anymore, and her mom... well, her mom was her mom. So, after months of throwing things around, her room was beginning to look like a dumpster fire.

She isn't proud of it, and she's damned if she'd ever let Linh come over to this sort of mess. So now, for the first time in forever, she's cleaning up.

And look, she's nervous. Linh is, well, amazing. She's kind, and talented, and funny, and all the things Marella has ever wanted to be. Plus, she's gorgeous. And not just in looks- but in action. Watching her around water was one of the most fascinating things Marella has ever witnessed. She was elegant, and graceful, and-

"Marella?"

She looks up from the ground, hands on a textbook from years ago. "Oh, hi Linh," She manages weakly, "I was just... studying?" She gestures towards the book in a rather awkward manner.

And Linh, ever the sweetest, smiles at her and asks "Anything I can help with?"

"No, uh, I was just finishing up. Sorry." She thrusts the book into a nearby closet and stands up. Idly, she looks at Linh, only then realizing that damn, when had she grown this tall?

Marella has always been taller than her, it was a fact. One that she'd tease the older girl about relentlessly. Now they are practically eye-level, and she doesn't really know what to feel about that.

Linh blinks, "What?"

For the love of mallowmelt, she'd been staring, hadn't she?

"Nothing, I just realized that we're almost the same height," She frowns, "It's a pity. I won't be able to see your hair anymore."

Linh scoffs, "You'll see my face. Isn't that better?"

"Yeah," She looks her in the eyes, smiling slightly, "It kind of is."

That didn't seem like the response she'd been expecting, and Linh turns a light shade of pink and looks away. "Anyway... uh, your mom let me in and said there were cookies in the oven, want to go grab them?"

At the mention of her mom, her smile dims slightly. She walks past Linh and grabs her hand, dragging her down to the kitchen.

The cookies are not in the oven, in fact. They are sitting unbaked upon the kitchen counter.

Linh frowns, "Oh well, we can put them inside, and come back later?"

At that, Marella giggles. "I know it's really easy to forgot, but I'm a pyrokinetic, darling. I'm like, a living, breathing, oven. Except I get things done a hundred times faster." She waves her hands around dramatically as if it emphasizes the point.

"Oops," Linh laughs, "Sorry?"

Marella watches her hand, willing the smallest spark to answer her call. A tiny flame begins to lick her hand, swelling and waving as it hits the air. She puts the cookie tray on top of her hand and watches as the cookies slowly turn harder and form a clear shape.

"Damn." She hears Linh mutter.

"What?" Had she done something wrong?

"I don't think I could ever get used to you doing that."

Unease curls in the bottom of her stomach, fear pulsating and whispering in her head. She hates you. She hates your fire. You're an idiot. Fuck, you're such an idiot.

Linh's eyes widen, "Shoot, that came out wrong. I mean, like, it's really beautiful. The flames, and the way you control them. It's- it's really cool."

Marella stands there a while, partially in shock and partially basking in the warmth of her friend's words.

"Marella?"

"Marella?? You alright?"

She blinks, then sees Linh point at her hand. The cookies, now a harsh charcoal black, lay in ashes upon the slightly-bent tray. Flames dance upon the edges, high enough to reach her face.

"Sorry," She mumbles, "Sorry. Somehow my fire ends up messing everything up."

"I don't blame you," the older girl shrugs, and after a moment, adds: "Or your fire."

She wills out a large droplet of water and plops! it on top of the still-burning cookie tray. She looks up and grins, "There you go! Problem solved."

"Thanks," Marella laughs lightly, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Linh nods, "I take my job of being the only one that can put you out very seriously."

"You mean, put my fire out." Marella snorts.

"No, I mean you. You and your fire aren't different people. It's your ability, and a part of who you are." Linh looks at her curiously, "Why do you always act like it's on its own?"

It's not accusatory, but it causes the blond to look away. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," She steps closer to Marella, "Are you alright?"

The truth spills out of her before she can remember to keep her mouth shut. "My mom does it, a lot."

"Does what?"

"She's a flasher. Whenever you ask her to use her ability or just... do something, she'll always just frown and say her light 'doesn't want too'. It's... I think I know why she does it, honestly. It's so much easier to pretend that it's not my fault that my ability did something wrong. Especially when everyone's so goddamn set on calling me the villain because I'm not Talentless, but somehow, I'm ten fucking times worse!" She yells, not sure what the hell she's doing anymore. But she's started, and she's definitely not done.

"And my mom... they say she's getting better. They say she's learning and she's going to be okay but I know her, and I know she's not. And it sucks, because I love her, and I need her, but maybe I'm wrong and I don't know who she even is anymore. I'm constantly walking on broken glass around her now. It's like- it's like, before we would be able to do things together and now... now it's like we have nothing in common at all."

Linh interrupts, looking at Marella with an expression she can't quite pinpoint, "You have her freckles."

"Sorry?"

"You have your mom's freckles. They aren't super noticeable but they're still there. One right next to your nose and the others on your cheek. Your mom has them in the same places. Not that it matters or anything, but uh, you know, just an observation." She mumbles, turning away.

"Oh." Marella blinks, willing her blush to go away. "You've got a good eye for details."

She shrugs, "Not really? It's just, easy, when it comes to you, I guess?"

"How come?"

"They're like stars," She leans on the countertop and looks up at Marella, "Like the really small ones you can only see during the dead of night. The ones that have always been there, but you just don't notice 'cause you haven't been looking close enough."

Marella opens her mouth to speak, but closes it when she realizes Linh isn't done.

"They're like stars in the midnight sky. But you're not midnight, you're the freaking sun. Stars in the morning sky? What's the opposite of midnight?" She frowns and scrunches her eyebrows (it's not cute, Marella thinks).

"...Noon?" She supplies.

Linh snorts, "Sure, noon. Stars in the noon sky."

"My freckles... are the stars in the noon sky." She blinks again, because she doesn't really know how to reply like that.

"Yep!" She laughs.

The silence that follows isn't awkward, but it's not quite comfortable either. Marella grasps for something to say, and eventually speaks.

"Hey, Linh?"

"Yeah?"

"You're a really awesome friend."

She beams, "Thank you!"

"Want to go grab mallowmelt?"

Linh's smile never disappears, "How could I ever say no to that?"

[silverzoomies]

Imagine quickie rails u so good u squirt but you’re low key embarrassed bc that’s never happened before but he talks you through it so sweetly and so hornily bc he obviously finds it the hottest thing in the world and he’s kinda obsessed with the fact that you just did that bc of him

…..yeah I need to know what he’s like talking you through it …….

anon, i'm so sorry. i dunno if this is what you were expecting. but i went a little off the rails. i haven't actually sat down and written anything in fifty gajillion years. apologies in advance if i'm super duper rusty. you're a doll, by the way. thanks for the inspiration !! this ask had me red in the face all over again !! 🤍 here's a short drabble for ya 🤍🤍🤍

In the boring emptiness of some secret, government research facility, soft squeals call out with ecstasy.

Hold that thought.

Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?

🤍

Since the OG X-Men were busy with more important endeavors (another fancy gala. Huge snore fest), Xavier took it upon himself to recruit some newbie trainees. He sent three of them to a top secret facility. Super below radar. The building sat far away from the bustle of society, hidden at an off-the-record base.

It’s around one AM when Quicksilver himself finally crashes your boring, patrol party. He zips through the entire building, scouting the area; before checking in on the trainees. After sending the other two off on their twenty minute breaks, he soon finds you.

A newbie he’s far more acquainted with. In more ways than one.

But not as many as he’d like.

You look bored as hell sitting there by yourself, swirling in a swivel chair. A series of CCTV screens flicker before you. But you barely pay them any attention. Keeping your head down, clipboard on your lap; you doodle all over a security protocol sheet. Your legs kick in a childlike way.

Your first, official mission is the most lame of X-Men operations. But even despite that, you appear to be in high spirits. Peter’s almost jealous. The first time he joined up with the team, all he got out of it was a lousy, broken leg.

Anyway, you’re cute and all. But…don’t you have a job to do, you slacker?

Peter leans against the doorway, his hands nestled in the pockets of his silver, bomber jacket. Beady eyes watch you through the lenses of his goggles. His earphones hang around his neck. A quiet jam resonates from them. But you're so mesmerized by your doodling, you don't even notice.

In a flash, Peter makes his presence known. Big hands grab your shoulders hard. He leans in to whisper sternly in your ear. His voice vibrates, robust and quaking in an attempt to spook you.

“GOTCHA! Annnnnnnd, yer dead, kid! Mwahahaha!”

You swivel around in an instant. Hopping from your seat, you raise your hands in defense. Jeez! Peter's caught off guard by how quickly you react. Blinding beams of golden light burst from your palms. The same glow floods your eyes. You hurl scorching hot rays in Peter's direction.

Well…shit.

Thanks to Xavier's mad training skills, Peter's a little faster than light nowadays. And he's ultra lucky for it. Had you raised your hands and gone pew pew pew so many years ago - he probably would've charred to a crisp right then and there. 

“Damn! You got some killer aim! That was a close call.” He whistles. Peter gawks at the holes seared into the wall, straight through some ruined blueprints. A smirk plays on his lips. He gestures at the damage with a thumb, “Eh, they probably got backups ‘a those lyin’ around, right?”

Your only response is an affectionate eye roll. But Peter notes the curl at the corner of your mouth as you try not to smile. 

Screw it. You're pretty fun. Why doesn't he hang with you for a bit? He's probably got some time to kill. At least before Chuck realizes the speedster isn't dressed to the nines, bored out of his mind at the gala.

The two of you goof off for a few minutes. As you doodle, Peter looms over your seat. Watching the CCTV screens with a ready eye, he teases you about your lack of focus on the job. You're just such a supreme newbie, he can't help it.

To which you respond with a counterpoint - isn't he the reigning champion of getting sidetracked?

Touché, little newbie. Touché.

Boredom quickly makes him antsy. And being antsy has Peter's brain reaching for any stimulation he can find. Pacing the room, Peter casts subtle glances at your figure in tactical clothing. Hot damn. Black really does highlight your most bodacious assets.

Amidst casual conversation, Peter shamelessly flirts with you. And when you flirt back, he isn’t all that fazed. The two of you are always making saucy passes at one another. Horny topics of discussion happen more often than they should. You once poured your heart out for twenty minutes, complaining that you couldn’t squirt when you got off. Part of him took this confession as a challenge.

Peter never forgot how sexually charged the energy of that night was.

Or…maybe it wasn’t? Maybe you just wanted to vent to someone who would listen. Yeah. He’s probably uber delusional. That ‘energy’ might’ve come from the sunbeams radiating in your genes.

Sure. Nothing sexual.

But if that’s the case, why else are you giving him bedroom eyes - if not ‘cuz you really wanna bone?

Expelling a bland sigh, Peter leans back against the console where the CCTV screens are. He bounces a random ball he swiped from a researcher’s desk. Flirtatious teasing continues back and forth, remaining casual.

Until Peter makes a needlessly suggestive comment.

“I’m just sayin’. Picture this, ‘kay? You ‘n me, goin’ at it like there’s no tomorrow. Pretty sure I’d get you off in under, say, three minutes er less. That’s not a promise, it’s a fact.”

Throwing you a sly look, Peter smirks payfully. He bounces the ball again.

“Pshh. Not fast enough.” You mumble.

Peter’s dark gaze leers at you from under his brows.

Oh. Oh no, you didn't just...

His eyes fire across each CCTV screen, double checking for any unwanted visitors. All clear, it’s go time. Moving swiftly, he props you up on a nearby desk. At record speed - before you can begin to comprehend his impossibly fast actions - he crams six inches of girthy, speedster cock inside you. All without any warning.

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have been so impulsive. But in the microsecond it took him to move your body and pull your pants off, at the very least; he had the courtesy to prep you with his fingers. And now, you’re coming undone as he jackhammers your cunt. Peter rolls into you in a blur of silver motion. Your walls clench perfectly over his cock.

You protest through shallow moans, “W-Wait! Oh my g-...too fast, Peter! Too fast!”

The tips of his fingers circle your clit, the vibrations shattering your moans. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you bring him closer. Peter shivers as your pussy squeezes him so tight. It’s an outrageously awesome sensation that drives him to drill his dick deeper. Tilting forward, he groans, his lips grazing yours.

“Y’think I can make you squirt like this?” He chuckles, his throat bobbing as he swallows down a moan.

You shake your head wildly, whimpering the softest, “Noooooo! I told you already, I cannnnn’t!”

“Huh? What’s that, cutie? Aw. Too bad. ‘Cuz I’m not gunna slow down ‘til you do.” Peter teases, looking over his shoulder at the CCTV screens. He smirks crookedly, “Better be quick. Yer teammates’re gunna be back soon.”

You tip your head back as you whine again. Peter ruts into you so inexplicably fast, his pace renders your lungs useless. His fingers keep torturing your clit, guiding your pearl in a whirring dance of speedy buzzes. You shudder, clawing into his arms as your hips move on instinct. 

Speeding the rhythm of his thrusts, Peter furrows his brows. His cock pulses when he watches your tits bounce in your shirt. He bites his lip to stifle a whimper. Below him, you try to call his name. But his powerful movements rupture your pretty voice. “Hell yeah, gorgeous. That’s it. Don’t hold back, ‘kay? Just let it happen. Gunna cum, pretty girl? C’mon, ya gotta cum for me. You can do it. C’mon.” He begs, his tone a little closer to a whine.

Not even two minutes into sexing you up, he has you gushing a spritz of luscious heat. Score. He'll be thinking about this sexy success for weeks. The corners of your eyes leak hot tears, as a rapturous orgasm overtakes you. The entire, lower half of your body tightens, muscles clenching. Your pussy pops with a juicy burst. Leaking down your thighs and ass, your slick coats his twitchy cock.

He kisses you, his breath burning hot, “Doin’ so good, princess. So good for me. Was that fast enough for you? Hmm? Oh, fuck. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-”

Pulling his soaked length free, he showers your tummy in virile, white jets. Leaning over you, Peter laughs again, exhaling a long sigh of elation. His lips capture yours, drinking in your kisses for a few beats. He feels his heart twist with satisfaction. All at the awesome notion that he drove you to such an intimate, breaking point.

“How’s that for a quickie?” He teases with a cheeky grin, winking down at you.

Your blinky eyes gaze over his shoulder, looking somewhat dazed. Beneath him, you stir in place. You’re trying to say something. But you’re so braindead from the totally slammin’ orgasm he gave you, the words won’t happen.

But then, Peter notices the way your glazed hues narrow. That vibrant, golden glow from earlier returns. Sitting up on an elbow, you raise a hand to point at the CCTV screens behind him. Oh, you probably saw someone on cam. Peter’s dark gaze widens. A sudden beam of light pulsates at the tip of your finger.

“NO, NO, NO, NO-” He starts.

Too late. The golden flash fires like a speeding bullet from your fingertip, colliding into the screens. A powerful burst shatters the entire CCTV setup on impact. Electric static buzzes amongst broken glass and fried wires. Peter sighs, looking over his shoulder, then back down at your cute face.

“Babe, seriously? Now’s not the time to be tryin’ interior decorating!” He rolls his eyes, playing ignorant to your shared romp in the research lab, “Hold that thought...aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?”

[strniohoeee]

Labyrinth

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female reader

Synopsis: A numb and addicted y/n can’t seem to understand why her life suddenly feels different. She’s done nothing but move around in her adult years, so why is it now that she feels she can’t pack up and leave anytime soon?

Warnings⚠️: I haven’t written in over a month, so I’m super rusty this might be shitty! Cigarette smoking and mentions, mentions of addiction, mentions of alcohol. I don’t condone smoking or drinking (underage).🖤

Song for imagine: Cigarettes and Coffee- Otis Redding

Its early in the morning

About a quarter ‘til three

I’m sittin here talking with my baby

Over cigarettes and coffee

I was never one to deal with stress easily which led me to deal with it in the worst ways possible. Drinking, smoking, quitting jobs on the spot and even packing up and leaving places…..I know stupid and risky, but I never had that anchor in my life to tell me everything was going to be okay.

If I felt stressed and useless my things were packed and I was on the road to a new state. I think I was on state number 7 in about a year and a half. Who the fuck in their right mind handles stress this way? That was the million dollar question, and I had the answer…. I wasn’t in my right mind…not in the past, not in the present and undoubtedly not in the future.

After my last breakdown I landed in California precisely in Los Angeles, the city of angels. Where all your dreams and aspirations could come true. It just felt like lost paradise to me, but it’s the longest state I’ve ever stood in. For some reason I couldn’t find the power in me to leave when I got stressed. It was as if I had some unforeseen future here….a future of happiness and hope?

But the stress still gnawed at me. Will I ever have a career, will I ever be truly happy, will my parents be proud of me?How am I going to pay for next month's rent?How am I going to pay for next week's groceries?

It was a constant battle and I never severely suffered because I always found a way, but once all that was taken care of the immediate panic started again about how will I be able to do it all in the following weeks.

I started smoking constantly and it was weird because I wasn’t a smoker but I knew I should drink a little less. I only lit a cigarette when the stress was so bad I refused to drink anymore. Not like smoking was any better ruining my lungs rather than my liver….

But the problem was it went from one to two a day to five and on really bad days even up to eight. It was a bad crutch I simply couldn’t pull away from. They were my training wheels and I was so scared that once I let go I’d crash and burn.

I had an addiction and I had no one around me to slap me out of it. Of course I still spoke to my parents, but I just lied about it. I mean there’s truly no one to blame but myself, however all that regret left my mind once a lighter was in my hand and I took a long drag while the cool night breeze brushed against my skin.

I was lucky enough to have found a job almost instantly. It was a cute little coffee shop that had a small selection of books. It was a peaceful and slow paced job. We only really needed two to three people working. So I’d open at 8am and waited for the next girl to clock in at about 11am.

It was a fun job that paid the bills and my horrendous cigarette addiction. I had found a decent studio apartment nearby. But I was always convinced that this would be snatched from under my feet and I should never get comfortable. As you can expect this led to my extreme stress and anxiety.

I didn’t necessarily have friends here, I mean yes I was cool with my coworkers and boss; but we weren’t friends. It was more of a hi, bye situation. It didn’t bother me much. I was always a loner. I never really found people who got me, so I stayed with the only person who did…me.

On my days off I spent a lot of time walking around flea markets, heading into other cafes and even writing. I’d always hoped that one day I’d be a writer. My mind was always running and I figured someone out there might actually relate to and enjoy the words I’d write on a piece of paper.

Today I was actually working a small shift from 8am to 1pm. I was staring blankly at my reflection in the bathroom. Scruffing my hands and gargling mouthwash. It was 11am and I was coming back from my break.

Spitting the mouthwash into the sink I closed the cap and stuffed the travel size bottle into my purse. Inhaling deeply I looked at myself once again.

“You have got to stop smoking” I replied in a mumble

Slipping my hand blindly into my purse I pulled out my perfume; spritzing myself before shutting the light and heading into the break room to place my purse back.

Slipping my apron on my coworker walked in, clocking in the back as she offered me a smile

“Good morning Y/N” she said as she walked towards me to place her things down

“Good morning K” I stated as I offered a smile back and began to make my way to clock back in

I wasn’t sure why her name was K, it was all over her employee paperwork. She was here before me, so I felt I had no right to ask her for her real name. But it was interesting for someone to just drop the rest of their name and solely go by a singular letter.

After punching back in I walked to the front, not a surprise it was dead. The only people lingering around were the 8am-9am crew. Sighing deeply I decided to clean up a bit.

It was about 12pm now and I was watching the clock anxiously waiting to clock out and run free. Usually I worked 8-4 and sometimes even 8-6. I had a whole day ahead of me and two days off might I add. I felt pretty invincible

Drinking from my water cup the door chimed signaling a customer. Placing the cup down I began to turn around.

“Hi welcome to Mugs” I stated as I turned around

Immediately I was intrigued. I have never seen someone as interesting before. I mean it is LA, so I have seen some interesting stuff; but no he looked different…. And for some reason I couldn’t really look away

Placing his vision glasses on top of his head he squinted his eyes to read the menu. My eyebrow raising.

“You know glasses are meant for you to see things” I said logging into the register as I looked up at him

“I’m sorry?” He said looking at me

“You um…. You put your glasses on your head and then squinted to read” I said pointing above me at the board

“Oh… well these are just blue light glasses. I genuinely can’t really see” he said in an awkward way

“Ohhh well uhh want me to read the menu to you?” I asked laughing a bit

“Oh no it’s fine, I’m not really a coffee drinker” he stated looking at our pastry display

“You do realize you’re in a Coffee shop?” I said jokingly

His both opened a bit and then he squinted his eyes

“I am now seeing how ridiculous I look” he said chuckling and shaking his head

“No judgment here” I said sticking my hands up in defense

“I won’t waste your time any more! Can I have a chocolate chip cookie and that bottle of Pepsi” he said pointing behind me at the small fridge

“One Pepsi and one cookie, coming right up” I said checking him out on the screen

Grabbing the cookie and bottle of soda I placed it on the counter and slid it towards him.

“You can tap or insert your card whenever you’re ready” I stated clicking some buttons on my screen

“I’m uhh actually paying cash” he said fishing in his wallet

“Woahhh cash in this century?” I said giggling and fixing the system

“Yeahh I carry a little bit of cash and little bit of card” he said shrugging his shoulders

“A little bit of card….hmm…that’s funny” I said giggling a bit at him

“Well you know what I mean” he says playfully rolling his eyes

“I’m just messing with you” I said shaking my head

Smiling he handed the cash over and grabbed his items

“Keep the change” he said waving with his hand and nodding his head

Walking out the door I couldn’t seem to understand why I had a stupid smile on my face. Putting the cash in the till and placing the change in our tip jar.

Turning around I was met with my two coworkers staring at me with a smirk on their face. I’d never been the spotlight of attention and I’ve never gotten anything other than a good morning from either of them. So my face dropped and I got self conscious

“What?” I said a bit scared as I straightened my posture

“He was totally into you” K stated as she placed the rack of cookies down

“Was not! We were just making friendly conversations” I said opening the pastry shelf and putting some cookies in

“No no I agree with K we’ve had a lot of guys come in here, but this is the first time I’ve seen a guy like utter more than two words to you and he was totally geeking out” Delilah stated

“Totally! That kid was blushing like crazyyy” K stated as she grabbed the now empty tray and began to walk back towards the kitchen

“Guys come on! It was just friendly banter” I said shutting the pastry door

“Delilah knows her shit too, that’s how Danny and I got together” K stated from the kitchen

“Shut up! No way” I said rolling my eyes

“Sure did! As soon as we had an interaction K told me he’d be back for my number, and that was three years ago” K replied

“You just got lucky this was nothing but mere coincidence” I replied back to them

“You’ll see girl” Delilah stated as she began to make herself a coffee

Playfully rolling my eyes I checked the clock, I had about 10 minutes till my shift was over. I decided to make myself a drink.

As I made my iced latte I began to wonder. I didn’t really have many interactions with guys, but I think I’d know if someone was flirting with me.

It just felt like a friendly banter with an awkwardly shy….nerdy guy. Laughing to myself I finished making my drink.

“Alright girls I’m going to clock out now” I stated as I walked to the back

Punching out and grabbing my things I slid my apron off and grabbed my drink. Heading towards the front of the cafe

I waved bye to the girls as I took a sip.

“Have a good day girls” I said as I walked out

I had the whole day ahead of me and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do. My job was near a pier where I could always sit down and watch people.

Before heading to the pier I decided to stop for some food. Heading into a small restaurant I sat down. Taking my book out of my purse I began to write. I hadn’t written in two weeks and it felt wrong.

Ghosting my hand over the paper, my mind just kept going blank. I couldn’t form a proper sentence and my mind began to race again. Thinking back on that boy I began to think about my love life.

Honestly I didn’t really have one, I was more of a hopeless romantic. Often watching rom coms and rolling my eyes at how unrealistic that love was. I’m sure it was tangible, but I was just a sour puss.

I longed for a relationship like that to always know you’ll have someone there for you loving you unconditionally. To be with someone through sickness and in health. I was only 22, but it seemed to me that everyone around me already had that amazing soulmate. I was very clearly late to the game and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever find someone to love. I wasn’t even sure I was lovable myself.

Then again I never put myself out there, but times have changed. It's not that easy. Guys have become so shitty and all they care about it sex. But it’s like what about getting to know the person deep down.

Not once has a guy ever asked me my dreams and aspirations, where do I see myself in five years? What are my biggest goals in life? What’s my biggest fear….. I lost all hope for love by the time I was 18.

Reading romantic stories and watching these shows and movies definitely added salt to the wound.

I hadn’t realized how much I was writing till my hand began to cramp. Looking up I realized it was no longer daytime.

“Shit” I muttered under my breath

Slamming my book shut I paid my bill and began to gather my things. Walking out of the restaurant I stepped out onto the golden street. It was about 5:45 and I really couldn’t understand how that much time had passed.

I think that’s why I enjoy writing the most, I’m so far gone in my own world it’s like I’m frozen and the world around me continues to move.

Walking towards the pier it was surprisingly empty at this time. Breathing in the salty air I sat down on a bench. Watching the ocean I let the breeze blow through my hair.

Digging in my purse I pulled out my pack of American Spirits. Sighing deeply I pulled a cigarette out. As soon as I grabbed my lighter all the regret washed away from me.

Placing the white object in between my lips I flicked the lighter a few times before a glowing flame appeared before me. Guarding the flame from the wind I brought it closer.

Inhaling as I lit the cigarette all my worries washed away. This was only my second cigarette of the day and I somehow felt accomplished.

Kicking the gravel underneath me I took a long drag, exhaling I got up. Walking over to the edge of the pier I decided to sit down allowing my legs to hang off the edge.

I wasn’t 100% sure I could do this, but it’s worth a shot I thought to myself. Leaning my chin in the railing I took another drag as I stared into the sunset.

Life was so beautiful and I wasn’t sure why I was so sad and numb all the time. I took a lot for granted and I hated it.

I really needed to stop smoking.

“You know those things will kill you” I heard from behind me

My brows began to furrow as I took a drag

“I’m sorry?” I said annoyed as I looked behind me, blowing the smoke out through my nose as my face dropped

“You shouldn’t smoke” he said again with a cheeky smile on his face

Meeting eyes with the same guy from the cafe made my heart skip a beat and my throat go dry.

“Squinting your eyes is also bad for you” I said putting the cigarette out

“Won’t kill me though” he said shrugging his shoulders

“You never know” I said shrugging my shoulders and standing up

His eyes followed me as I got up and it was only then did I feel super self conscious about this whole situation. My embarrassment turned a bit into anger.

“Anyways you drink Pepsi, so that for sure will kill you” I said as I dusted my pants off

“Guess we’ll both be dead then” he replied

“Wow you’re super blunt” I said scoffing

“Sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to come off rude. I was just playfully teasing” he said looking nervous

Looking at him for a split second and I sniffed and then rolled my eyes

“It’s fine. It’s a bad habit anyways” I replied shrugging my shoulders

“We all have bad habits we’re not proud of” he said in a whisper

“Are you uhh following me?” I asked him cocking an eyebrow

“What? No oh my god no! I was just walking and I thought you looked super familiar” he replied putting his hands out in defense

“I’m just teasing you” I said giggling

“I’m Matt” he replied placing his hand out for me to shake

“I’m Y/N” I stated as I shook his hand

“It’s nice to formally meet you” he said awkwardly

“Yeah” I replied awkwardly

“I’ll uh… ill let you go on about your business. Maybe I’ll see you around” He said

“Well you know where to find me” I said smiling at him

Opening my bag I was digging around for my phone before successfully pulling it out.

“Right, we’ll have a good evening” he said and waved shyly

“I’ll see you round Matt” I replied

Going our separate ways I looked down at my phone, 6:55pm…. Sighing, I walked back to my car close to the cafe and drove home.

Shuffling up the stairs I pushed my apartment door open after unlocking it. Making note that I must call the maintenance guy because that door needs some WD40 badly.

Locking the door I turned my lights on. Today just felt strange like I couldn’t put my finger in exactly what the fuck was going on.

Walking over to my patio I opened the sliding door and stepped out. Taking in the evening breeze my mind just went blank.

Stepping back inside I grabbed my purse, grabbing my lighter I shuffled my hand around my purse to feel for my pack of cigarettes. But my brows furrowed when I didn’t feel the square container.

Walking over towards the light I opened my bag more and looked inside. An annoyed feeling washed over me as I couldn’t find the box. I mean honestly good because I did not need anymore.

Still searching as if the box was going to magically appear. I groaned soon realizing I must’ve left them on the bench and they are for a fact long gone by now.

Throwing my lighter back into my purse I groaned and sat on my couch. The one time I desperately need a cigarette I fucking left it on the pier.

I cut that night short with a 80s movie marathon and left over pizza as a midnight snack.

remembering that tomorrow I had to stop into the cafe to pick up my paycheck. We’re living in a very digital world right now and my job still does paper checks….

Groaning at that I decided to call it a night….

The End

Okayyy IVE BEEN GONE FOR SOOO FUCKING LONG. And I’m sooo sorry it’s just life has been so crazy since March! However this was the end of part 1….stay tuned for more🥺🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[nateofgreat]

I've got to say, Ahsoka's cultivated the most excuses for anything she does over the course of her story. And by excuses, I don't mean valid and logical explanations, just the fandom picking up on the way the meta justifies everything she does and doing the same thing in turn.

-Ahsoka acts rude throughout the Clone Wars.

"She's so young and inexperienced. She doesn't know any better!" :(

-Forty-something Ahsoka acting the same way.

"She's been through so much!" :(

-Ahsoka makes herself look super guilty and thus draws the Jedi Council's suspicion during the Wrong Jedi Arc?

"What else was she supposed to do? NOBODY (Except Anakin and the Council initially) trusted her!!!" >:(

-Ahsoka loses all personality and becomes as a dull as rock.

"The Jedi Order BETRAYED HER! How can we expect that to have not wiped out her personality for thirty years?" :(

-Ahsoka forgives Anakin for slaughtering the Jedi, becoming a tyrannical Sith Lord, and trying to kill her. While refusing to forgive the Jedi and implying they deserved their genocide?

"She's completely right! The Jedi didn't trust her one time! So they had it coming!" >:(

-Ahsoka abandons the Rebellion to go off and do her own thing, something that's never specified?

"She had good reason to ditch the Rebellion unlike those stinky old Jedi!" >:(

-Ahsoka encounters and survives every threat in her lifetime? Be it Grievous, Ventress, Cad Bane (I'll give her this one), Sidious, Vader, Maul, Baylan, and even knocking Anakin and Obi-Wan around in the Mortis arc. Either by extraordinary luck or literal magical intervention in the form of the World-Between-Worlds?

"She was trained by the Chosen One! And she's really good for her age." :D

-Ahsoka kills an Inquisitor in one move after lazing around on a farm for years, letting her skills get rusty. After having only received about three years of battle training?

"Awesome!" :D

-Ahsoka holds a spark of the Goddess of Light's power within herself and is followed around by her pet bird despite constantly acting out of passion, fear, rage, etc?

"She's the purest of all Jedi and what they should really be!" :D

At this point, Ahsoka could appear in a pillar of light in the middle of Return of the Jedi and scream; "I AM YOUR GODDESS NOW!" kill Sidious, and rearrange the cosmos into her image and people would find an excuse for it.

Obviously, I'm not referring to normal fans of the character and I honestly don't blame the superfans either. This is just how Dave Filoni's written her and its rubbed off on the fandom.

[yakkyrwhackr]

My Thoughts on Sonic Prime Season 3 (Spoilers Ahead!) I'm going to structure this in a sandwich style of reviewing, because there's a lot of good, a bit of bad, and a decent chunk of lame shit. Let's hop in, shall we? The Best: Grim Big Let's start this review off with the thing I adored about this season the most: GRIM BIG, BABY!!! Grim Big is the funniest shit ever and I loved every moment he was on screen The Lame: The Grim Bots (Minus Grim Big) The Grim Bots are cool in concept, but they just don't really do anything and have no notable personalities. They're just there as fodder. Alpha Grim Sonic does get a TINY bit of personalization in episode 5, but that is ENTIRELY carried by Shadow challenging him to "prove his worth" and the mild scowl AGS gives in response. Also the Grim Birdies are the most annoying fucking things in existence and I hate their sound effect. Alpha Grim Sonic could NEVER be Chaos Sonic.

The Great: Fight Scenes One of the best aspects of this season was the fight scenes (minus the ones within the Kracken and Mothership) by far. All of them are such a treat to my eyes and I loved every second of it. The Lame: Inconsistencies The writing seems to pingpong in tone a lot. One minute everything is hopeless, and then sonic has a plan. That plan falls apart due to infighting, rinse and repeat. Nine also feels a little inconsistent, as sometimes he's angsty, sometimes he's cocky, and sometimes he's manic. It's pretty jarring. Dread is also inconsistent. He said in either episode 2 or 3 that he had no incentive to fight, and then in episode 4 onwards, he's fighting with enthusiasm. He really only gets an actual incentive in episode fucking 6, which he abandons IN THE SAME EPISODE.

The Good: Nine While Nine was a bit inconsistent at times, he was still pretty good in this season. I can tell the VA and animators really tried. I just wish he was given a better and less inconsistent script. He gets really good in the final 3 or so episodes.

The Bad: The Retro Scene Just like in other seasons of Prime, the retro scene was pretty bad. But I feel that this season, it felt especially cheap and unnecessary. It looked like a fucking flash animation. Not even dialogue this time. It was pointless too because the entire first season had Sonic reminding Nine of him and Tails' friendship.

The Extra-Enjoyable: Jack, Squad Commander Red, and Renegade Knucks All three of these were great. Some were greater than others (Renegade Knucks was definitely the best by far and was the one of the only characters I can definitively say I cared about. Like, Renegade absolutely STOLE the show.) I enjoyed watching them on screen. Again, some more than others (I love you, Renegade Knucks), but all were enjoyable nonetheless. The Thing I'm Undecided About: Sappiness Sonic is a sappy guy. I am more than aware of that. However, I feel a few scenes put too much sappiness for the scene, or used sappiness when it could be used elsewhere. For the sake of being fair, the sappiness in the final episode WAS a good use of it. Overall not my biggest problem with the season. (I ran out of bads so the sandwich style ends here)

The STUNNING: Animation The animation in this season was PHENOMENAL. Multiple times this season, my brain was just in constant awe with how good it looked. Everyone was super expressive and bouncy. Definitely amazing. The Peak: Shadow Shadow was GREAT this season. I loved his interactions almost as much as I loved Renegade Knucks. Definitely the best Shadow has been written in a WHILE. It was a breath of fresh air in an otherwise flanderized character. We got a bit of Shadow in season 2, but this is where I think he really shines. I certainly will not forget the ultimate lifeform beefing with a 9 year old. Peak, honestly The Very Nice: Rusty I feel Rusty had more time to shine this season. She had more lines, her animation was more expressive, and even her voice actress seemed to read her lines with a bit more emotion. I especially liked her monologue against Alpha Grim Amy. Show's still not canon though :)

[artificialashley]

for the prompts: general 34 + crygi? tysm

this is four months late, written at two am and not beta'd but i was listening to zolita and suddenly felt inspired so here goes

kinda hooked on you (and in the mood for an obsession) (crygi)

“Well, I can scratch that off my bucket list now.”

“Are you spying on me?”

Gigi was taken aback.

Realistically she shouldn’t have been, any normal person would ask the same thing in Crystal’s shoes (that day, a red pair of Mary Janes. Gigi had seen her wear them a few times before, rested on the seat next to her in homeroom whenever Nicky decided to sleep in and use the excuse of “still being in France's time zone”).

France was actually seven hours ahead of them but Gigi didn’t care.

Gigi might have taken the batteries out of every clock in the school if it meant she could turn around, pretending to be startled by the sound of Crystal’s clunky shoes on the seat, certainly not checking out what her eyeliner looked like that day as she did it, whether her hair was hanging loose or under one of those beanies instead, a strand of ginger pouring out the side like a rusty corkscrew.

Normally Gigi had a stopper, something she could slip into the top of her bottle the second the cork popped out, something to stop the wine from spilling all over, staining her skirt and splashing Crystal’s Mary Janes. She’d drink it all later at home when no one was around, just a few sips first (it didn’t really count as stalking if she never typed in Crystal’s name - instead it was happenchance; never any harm in clicking Jadia from her own profile, a picture of the two of them singing karaoke in Jan’s garage. Then from there, she’d get to Heidi, a mishap involving two of the same purple gowns leading to a rather funny picture of them pretending to fight at prom last year. And well once she got to Heidi then all she had to do was press one more picture and she’d somehow stumbled on Crystal. Complete happenchance).

But after the first few sips were when things got dangerous, a sip turns into a swig and a swig into the rest of the bottle and before she knew it Gigi was three years deep wondering why she hadn’t gone on the stupid school trip to Illinois or taken up fucking ceramics from the age of seven.

Oh shit.

Ceramics.

On the floor.

A little pink vase smashed into at least nine pieces thanks to Gigi and her bony elbows.

Or maybe her nosey eyes.

Nosey, not spying.

Certainly not spying.

“No.” She spoke plainly, deadpan. Her own way of flirting. “I’m just really into ceramics.”

“Well, it doesn’t really look like it.” Crystal made her way over, stopping shy of the pink shards to help pick them up. “You’re meant to throw it on the wheel before you’ve made it, not on the floor after, you know? That’s not what it means.”

Gigi didn’t know which type of flirting was worse; the suggestive and emotionless remark or the awkward and terrible joke.

She thought of a family trip to her Grandma’s when they were kids, Symone kept throwing her teddy out the window for one of the neighbour’s boys to catch, Gigi’s spindly-self running up and down the stairs like a headless chicken trying to get it back. So she’d done what any ten year old annoyed at their sister would have done in that situation, ran down to the boy and told him that Symone had a crush (girls still had cooties then, it was a big deal).

Of course, her Grandma was right that day, and she’d probably still get a huge telling off at age eighteen if she so much as suggested she ever wasn’t.

But Gigi knew there were always exceptions.

That sometimes two wrongs made just the right amount of right.

“I’m sorry, was it yours?” Gigi placed the pieces on the side, unsure whether to bin them or whether it was the sort of thing that could just be super-glued back together (yeah, she’s really, really into ceramics).

“It’s fine. I can just make a new one.” She pointed to the wheel. “You done it before?”

Gigi could see the corner of a tattoo poking from the v of her shirt, a sudden desire to trace her finger across it. One nod and her finger would push the fabric to one side, tracing the letters over and over again until she could feel Crystal’s chest rising and falling under her wrist.

She’d never done that before.

“I’d like to.” She nodded, already cringing at herself before even half a second had passed.

“Aha! The student becomes the master.” Crystal beamed, a big toothy grin Gigi had only caught glimpses of every now and again; on the bleachers of the football field when she took a bite of what Gigi assumed to be a Meatball Marinara (it was hard to tell the exact contents of a sandwich from that far away, especially when trying to do so usually resulted in a pom-pom to the head from Jan and some sort of speech about levels of pep. “Sorry, I just feel starved.” She’d had to say once)(It wasn’t a lie).

So Gigi made her way to the stool, letting Crystal do her thing.

Or at least to some extent, the girl could not explain a simple step-by-step if her life depend on it, her instructions a jumble of chronology and using concepts as foreign to Gigi as the feeling of Crystal’s stomach pressed on her back, her arms wrapped around her own so close she could feel the girls forty-seven bracelets jangling on her arms.

Foreign. Unfamiliar. New.

But not bad.

Certainly, not bad.

“This is crazy. I don't know how you dare call yourself the master.” Gigi let a chuckle slip out, a real one that almost turned into a snort (she’d have been embarrassed had Crystal not laughed too, her laugh loud and batshit. The song you found so bloody annoying that you couldn’t help but go home and ask Google to play at full volume on repeat until anyone else came back).

“Look I’m sorry this isn’t all one, two, three, four cheerleader stuff but you just gotta feel it, yano, be one with the clay.”

“One with the clay!?” Gigi turned around at the sheer absurdity, Crystal’s hands suddenly over the top of hers, holding the clay in place just in time to stop it from spilling over.

Gigi guessed wet clay would be a little harder to clean up than wine.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

Gigi didn’t move her head, still turned to face Crystal, watching as the other girl’s eyes darted between herself and the wheel.

She’d never realised someone so out-there could be so sensible.

It was fucking cute.

“It’s alright.” Crystal replied, her voice trailing off at the end, just in time for Gigi to move in and close the gap between their lips, her head spinning fast like the wheel, over and over again until they removed their hands to let it slow.

By the time Gigi felt wet clay on the small of her back she could almost see straight.

Her vision became clear as they pulled apart, her arms around Crystal’s neck, wrists crossed over behind her.

Cross my heart and hope to die.

That was another phrase her Grandma was obsessed with. Little Gigi never quite got that one, why would you put such high stakes on something like that? How would you know that you were right? Know enough that you’d risk dying for it.

Really, really know?

Gigi glanced at the table next to them, the misshapen blob in its centre. She didn’t even know what she’d call it? A short vase? A pot? An ashtray designed for those super long cigarettes everyone seemed to smoke in the 60s?

“Look at it. It’s perfect.” Crystal smiled, nodding her head to the thing.

So that’s what it was: It.

Gigi uncrossed her arms but it was okay.

She knew it was okay.

“Well, I can scratch that off my bucket list now.”

“The throwing?” Crystal’s eyes were wide, the corkscrew that usually framed them pushed aside by Gigi in all the commotion.

She was free to pour.

“Yeah. Need to try the other thing again before I can say it really counts, I think.”

“Oh, of course,” Crystal replied, imposing wisdom on Gigi that she’d fall back upon later in life, mixed in somewhere with the teddy bear and the crosses and whatever the hell it was Shakespeare said about gold and glitter. “Gotta try everything twice. That’s what I always say.”

[nobody-wants-ice-cream]

Everything Wrong With The Umbrella Academy. Episode 8, I Heard a Rumor.

This episode is particularly brutal. Warnings include child abuse, domestic abuse, suicide, rape, gore, and manipulation. Keep yourself safe.

We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals

Run Boy Run

Extra Ordinary

Man on the Moon

Number Five

The Day That Wasn’t

The Day That Was

Disclaimer: This is all in good fun! I wanted to do a really nitpicky re-watch of the series and found some really cool and interesting things I didn’t notice before. This is meant to have a Cinema Sins-esque tone. However, I did take off a lot more sins than Cinema Sins would have because I do genuinely like the series and the people that made it possible. So all of the good things got one sin off and all the bad things got one sin added. This is a really long post, so grab some popcorn. If there’s anything that I missed, feel free to add it!

I would also like to add that normally you wouldn’t watch a show this way. I am purposefully looking for mistakes, easter eggs, and other things that we’re not supposed to notice. I am watching not with the goal of entertainment, but for analysis. So most of the things that I sin, I am seeing for the first time.

Also, no I can’t do better. I am in no way qualified to give this level of criticism about anything. I am not taking this seriously. At all. 

I Heard a Rumor

Stormy Weather by Etta James. I adore this song. When I first watched the show I was so happy when this song came on.-1

I am also taking a sin off for the Emmy Raver-Lampman version -1

It looks like Allison genuinely adores her daughter. And Claire’s bedroom? I would want to have that room now and I am at least ten years older than her. -1

Speaking of, how old is Claire? Sin until we have answers. +1

The animations for the story of The Umbrella Academy defeating the robbers at the museum. -2

“While your Uncle Klaus got a little distracted.” What did Klaus do on missions again? +1

Allison carefully censors the mission so she is still telling the truth but doesn’t actually say that Diego used knives or that Ben used the horror to (presumably, we don’t know how much control Ben had) kill four people. Good job. See Reggie, this is how you don’t traumatise your kid with violence. -1

“Their leader.” Looks suspiciously like a villain from the comics. -1

“I wanna hear the one about the Eiffel tower.” Me too, Claire. Especially since the magazine clips we see suggest Five was there this time. -1

Mind control. ON A CHILD. This is what bothers me the most about Allison as a character and I am glad that she is moving past it. However, in no universe can I let this go. Depending on how Allison used it, Claire’s emotional control could be fucked for life. +40

Patrick behaves like a rational human being and doesn’t blow up at Allison for this in front of their child. He also divorces her in order to keep said child safe. Good. -1

“I heard a rumor you love me.” Who did she say this to? It doesn’t matter who, it’s still disturbing, but oh dear God who did she say this to? I think this is the second most fucked up thing we hear Allison say after the rumoring Claire scene. +10

Allison is going 120 kmh, or 75 mph, in the rain. If you have ever driven a car in the rain then you know exactly why I am sinning this. For those who don’t know, google hydroplaning. Allison could have died here very, very easily. +3

Title screen on a billboard! I forgot how cool the episode 8 title screen was. -1

Allison doesn’t bring her proof with her when going to confront Vanya, who has been shown to be irrational when it comes to Leonard. +1

Bird jumpscare. +1

“They want me to come back tomorrow be fitted for a prosthetic eye”. Leonard places emphasis on the words “prosthetic eye” to remind the viewers that Leonard is bad news. Good acting choice. -1

Leonard’s clothes look freshly bloody when the blood should be several hours old and therefore a more rusty brown color than a bright red. I think. I don’t know if that’s how it works with such large amounts of blood. +1

Luther’s bed is now magically big enough to fit both him and the rave girl. +1

Luther’s reaction to the rave girl. Rewatch this scene to get such a laugh at Luther’s face. -1

How out of it was Luther vs the rave girl? Consent issues on both sides. +3

Luther treated the rave girl to some wine? Or cranberry juice? How thoughtful. -1

I really, really hope they were safe though. There is no evidence to imply they were safe. (If you don’t know what I’m talking about then you’re too young to be watching TUA). +1

Klaus is such a little shit. “Wakey wakey! Eggs and bakey!” while ringing the bell. Peak sibling culture is doing this sort of thing while knowing that the other sibling is NOT going to appreciate it. Also, Klaus deserves his revenge after last night. -1

The little wave the rave girl gives Klaus. -1

Go back and watch this scene. Holy shit this is so underrated. This is the funniest thing ever. -1

“He popped his cherry! Now you’re gonna have to marry her” -4

Klaus doesn’t remember his first time. Consent issues. +3

“No dilly-dallying, alright?” I love Klaus. -1

Klaus makes french press coffee for Luther and Ben. Klaus is a good brother. -1

I would kill to see Ben’s reaction to Luther and the rave girl. +1

Five snatches Luther’s coffee and not Ben’s, ya know, the guy who can’t drink the coffee. And is invisible. Five is a dick to Luther or Five wanted to be a little shit to Luther after having to hear him and the rave girl. Either way, +1

He steals the coffee and he complains about it. +1

Ben! -1

“This is a bad idea” no shit. +1

The awkward pauses where Ben is presumably speaking don’t make sense here. +1

The camera trickery used to make Luther look like a giant compared to Five. -1

Five knows where the aspirin is “top shelf next to the crackers” because he was also hungover. I think. I can’t remember if FIve stopped back at the house, but presumably he and Luther had to go there to get the car. -1

Luther still isn’t getting up to get the aspirin even though he can listen just fine while getting it. +1

Ben adding to the dramatic tension of the scene in a uniquely humorous way that only this show can pull off. -2

Luther doesn’t believe Klaus about Reggie’s suicide. What reason would Klaus have to lie about this, Luther? +1

Five believes him right away. -1

Convenient Pogo backing up Klaus is convenient. +1

This has nothing to do with this very dramatic and important scene, but the mismatched chairs, while cute, don’t appear in any other scene. +1

Five calls Reggie a “sick bastard” under his breath. That’s one way to describe him. -1

Pogo kept this secret for a long time. Not telling the kids was a strange choice and I’m not sure why Pogo made it. On one hand, he would be respecting the wishes of his creator and friend but on the other he would be helping these people come to terms with their father’s death. Pogo’s character motivations are strange and I don’t understand them. +1

Luther said it best, “there’s always choice.” +1

Random thought I had, where was Harold’s grandmother when he was being abused and then going to jail because he killed his abuser? +1

Leonard says some nice things in this scene. If we didn’t know how manipulative he was I would give him credit for this line. +1

Agnes looks adorable out of the Griddy’s uniform. Costume/hair people, you did good. -1

Agnes keeps saying things like “we aren’t in a rush” and talking about seeing three years worth of stops to remind us that there is no time. Hazel looks heartbroken by it. -1

Allison abandons her vehicle. Do not take driving advice from The Umbrella Academy, ever! +1

Allison sees a random scarf from several cars away and immediately connects it with Vanya. Does she also have super sight? +1

The first time we see Allison get recognized by a random stranger for her acting is eight episodes in. +1

Cheddar (the cop Allison is talking to) is so enamored by Allison that he stops doing his job correctly. +1

“Jackpine cove” who named these towns? +1

Allison and Five have the same little shrug when they finish telling terrible lies. -1

Allison is a terrible liar. +1

Diego is still in jail. They’re talking about transferring him upstate. This is really bad news. +1

“Did she use that word? Contentious?” The definitions of contentious all say the word argument. Beeman says that Diego and Patch had an argumentative relationship. This matters to Diego. Why? +1

This conversation was written by someone who doesn’t understand the connotation of the word contentious. +1

Beeman encourages Diego to escape and go on the run. Are all the cops incompitent on this show? You have Patch, who hasn’t pinned Diego for obstruction of justice despite the show implying that Diego has touched evidence he wasn’t supposed to many times, Cheddar, who is so distracted by Allison freakin’ Hargreeves that he forgets that taking her along to a murder case is unethical at best, and Beeman who straight up encourages Diego to escape from jail. That last one is definitely illegal. +10

The parallel between Five and Leonard reading something they aren’t supposed to have in the bathroom. Both the apocalypse file and the journal are red, too. This means something but I don’t have the analysis skills to really go into it. If anyone wants to take a crack at it, go ahead. Sin removed because I know this is smart even if I can’t figure out why.-1

Vanya’s training implies that Reggie has been training these kids hard since they were at least four years old. +7

Current Sin Count: 73

Reggie doesn’t praise Vanya for breaking the glass, he just demands that she does it again. Say it with me now, Reggie is a dick. +1

Leonard straight up uses the word extraordinary. Sigh. +1

The description for how Vanya’s powers work (concentrate on a constant sound until that’s all you can hear and then use an emotional connection to target) is surprisingly good. This is the best description of somebody’s powers we’ve ever gotten in this show. -1

Klaus is attempting to get the yarn on the needle and failing miserably. This is one of the simpler, if tedious, things we do in knitting. Therefore, it is completely understandable how a beginner can’t make heads or tails of it. -1

Five is still injured. The old man walk gives it away. +1

Five treats Klaus like a second in command. I want more of this duo. -1

“So how’d the crazy bastard actually know to kill himself a week before the end of the world?” We would all like to know the answer to that question. Five would be excellent at cinema sins. +1

“Don’t answer, that was purely rhetorical.” Nice cop out, show. +1

Reggie used The Apocalypse to make his kids do the dishes. Checks out. +1

Five and Klaus bond over hating doing the dishes and the person making them do the dishes. Sibling culture. -1

“Where have you been?” “Jail. Long story.” The looks on Klaus and Five’s faces! -2

Vanya breaks the monocle. Good job, kid. However, if you know the comics then you know why I am mildly concerned about this. -1

“That will conclude your training for the time being.” Meaning the next 25 years. Reggie, you suck. +1

Now Vanya’s powers are a bit more vague and imply that she has super hearing. +1

Leonard’s training routine actually includes some praise, which is a step up from Reggie. However, a step up from Reggie is still someplace in hell, so it’s still a sin. +1

It’s also a sin because it’s uncontrolled and Vanya is afraid of it, yet Leonard keeps pushing her. +1

Leonard uses the kind of language Reggie would use to describe Vanya’s powers. Checks out because he read Reggie’s book and is using his ideas to train Vanya. +1

Helen Cho’s missing person poster reminds the viewer that Leonard is bad news. +1

Vanya plays for the St. Pluvium Chamber Orchestra. First of all, no they have a conductor. +1

Second of all, “Pluvium” means of or relating to rain. The Umbrella Academy fights against the leader of the rain orchestra in episode 10. Who came up with that pun? That is absolutely hilarious. -1

Based on a post by @seven-valid-libras I think Griddy’s is across the street from this bar? I am not 100% sure. If it is then that’s a sin off because Agnes definitely has a bunch of drunk people coming in for doughnuts every now and then. I lowkey want to write this fic. -1

“Maybe they’ll brood each other to death” Is this a reference to the fact that Luther and Diego were both too emo for umbrellas in episode 1? -1

I feel so bad for Luther right now. Reggie really fucked with his head. +1

After hearing that Vanya’s boyfriend is a convicted murderer, Luther is more concerned for Allison than he is for Vanya. +1

Diego’s face when Luther says “you should have led with that!” [the fact that Allison went after a convicted murderer alone] -1

Luther is right. Diego should have led with that. +1

Luther breaks the door in his rush to get out of the bar. Checks out. -1

Mary J. Blige. -1

The shop is closing because Agnes is leaving? Who owns Griddy’s? +1

And if the shop is closing, then why leave doughnuts on the shelf? Are they gifts for the other waitresses who are now out of a job? +1

Agnes keeps a flamingo (presumably, scented) candle in a bakery. +1

Cha Cha was way too close to that explosion to not get some scratches at the very least. +1

Sergeant Cheddar is letting Allison stay in the room while he interrogates Mr. Luntz (the man that survived Vanya’s powers). +1

What kind of person allows themselves to be hired by some guy in order to beat him up in front of his girlfriend? Who does that? Are there people like that who exist in real life? +1

Allison doesn’t get pissed off when Luntz says that they started to hurt the girl (Vanya) too. +1

Sgt. Cheddar finally gets pissed off with Allison after she starts leading Luntz. This took way too long. +1

“What I really need to do is practice,” said every musician ever. Including me. As I’m typing this I’m putting off practicing. Vanya is calling me out. I deserve it. +1

Also, Vanya just got first chair and so far she still hasn’t learned the solo the day before the concert. That is such a mood. -1

The cracks in Leonard’s personality are finally starting to show. If Harold was smart he would let Vanya do this without attempting to manipulate her into more practice. +1

Vanya left her violin propped up in the middle of a sofa. That is a broken violin waiting to happen. +1

Where is her rosin? Don’t tell me she reuses the same rosin and doesn’t clean her instrument. Please. +2

Leonard doesn’t tell Vanya where he will be going. He just sort of leaves without a note. This would be fine if this universe had cell phones, but it doesn’t. Leonard is a dick. +1

Agnes would like to spend her (Hazel tells her it’s hypothetical but we know it’s not) last two days on Earth with Hazel. That is so sweet. But also, they met less than a week ago. +1

This is the turning point that makes Hazel an active character that wants to stop the apocalypse. Finally some character motivation that makes sense! Whoop! -1

They Call Me a Fool by Damon is another one of my favorites from the soundtrack. What can I say, I’m a sucker for jazz. -1

There is a parallel between Five leaving Vanya’s apartment and Leonard leaving her at the cabin. Her brother (whom I assume she loves) and the man she is infatuated with both leave her at some point without warning. The people who Vanya loves keep leaving her. +2

Vanya puts her violin down on a chair and lets the bow fall. Bows are expensive. +1

“I made a secret place just for you. None of your siblings get to play there.” Of course Reggie is framing it this way. He’s scared of her. +1

The further away from Pogo the camera is, the less real he looks. +1

Reggie and Pogo locked Vanya in this cage. +1

Vanya’s violin bow fell down but in the next shot it’s propped on the chair. +1

Sgt. Cheddar tells Allison to stay put but has no way to verify that she actually will. Also, if he’s such a fan then shouldn’t he know that she used to be a superhero? +1

Allison kept her proof about Leonard/Harold in the car again. +1

“I love you. And I wanna be here for you as your sister.” -1

“I love him.” Vanya you met him less than a week ago. +2

If there was ever a wrong time to bring up the fact that you took Vanya’s powers away and left her with a horribly low self esteem due to the poorly worded “I heard a rumor that you think you’re just ordinary”, it would be now! Now is the wrong time to bring this up! +10

Reggie used Allison to make Vanya powerless. Reggie is a dick. An absolute bastard. A complete scumbag. Etc. +20

Reggie has also been drugging Vanya since she was FOUR YEARS OLD. +50

Insert Reggie insults here. Feel free to come up with your own in the tags. Fuck this guy repeatedly with a rusty chainsaw. +20

Vanya is not in the right state of mind to understand that Reggie is the one that made Allison rumor her. +1

The final fight between Allison and Vanya is heartbreaking. Emmy Raver-Lampman and Ellen Page are excellent actresses. -5

Vanya’s skin keeps getting paler and paler. Foreshadowing. -1

This is the only time Allison attempts to use her powers in the show. To save her life. I would say that it is pretty justified. -1

Violin bows are not sharp enough to cut human flesh. Is this another part of Vanya’s power? +1

Gore warning! This is super fucked. Not gonna lie, I gag a little every time I see this.+4

Vanya is freaking out and then Leonard walks in. Vanya’s mental state is completely out the window at this point. +4

Leonard manhandles Vanya into letting her sister die (as far as they know) on the floor of the cabin. +10

Allison has definitely lost enough blood to kill her, yet she survives this. +1

Leonard went out to kill Luntz. +10

Nobody in the car (Five driving, Klaus shotgun, Luther and Diego in the back) is wearing a seatbelt. +1

Also, of these four people, Five is the most qualified to drive right now? Diego is sitting right there! And we saw Klaus drive the ice cream truck! Luther would have some trouble driving because he’s so large. But really?? +2

“Can you go any faster?” “Ask me again and I’ll burn you with the cigarette lighter.” The comic relief doesn’t really land here because the scene before was so dramatic and the music is still playing. To change the mood, the song would also have to change. +2

Independently, that is a pretty funny Grandpa Five line. -1

Including Ben in the scene where they find Allison bleeding out on the floor is a subtle reminder to the audience that if Allison was dead, Klaus would be able to see her ghost. The lack of a ghost means she is still alive. +1

Also, this scene has all the original members of The Umbrella Academy in it. Look how far they’ve come from the bank robbery. +6

No one is checking for a pulse right now. They’re just assuming that Allison is dead. +10

Overall Review: It goes without saying that this episode is fucking brutal. When I first watched it I had to stop and go do something else for a while because of the rumor reveal and the throat thing. That was really, really concerning. Props to Emmy Raver-Lampman. She fucking killed it this episode. If anyone was wondering if she was a good actress (ya know because of all the “come look at this” lines she kept getting) then this episode made it very clear that she can act and she does it very, very well. 

So, Vanya’s sanity is out the window, Allison is down for the count, and no one cares about the apocalypse right now. That last one is understandable because of Allison’s situation, but damn it really isn’t looking good for the Hargreeves siblings. 

Also, I want to talk about something. This is the last episode in which Allison and Vanya are both capable of speech. And in the eight hours we have known these two women, they have had multiple conversations. All of them have been about a man. Their brothers, their father, Patrick, or Leonard/Harold. Seriously, the two women in this show that are main characters never have a conversation that isn’t about a man. There is no excuse. With the fridging and this, you have to wonder if the writers on this show hate women or something? I don’t normally add sins post analysis, but I think I will make an exception for this one. +100

Total: 283

Sentence: Serious gore. 

[liesonthefloordramatically]

A wild 2020 recap post appears!

Stuff I made this year:

Fiction: This was the most I’ve ever written in a year--58k just of stuff on AO3.  By pretty much all measures, disjoint is the best thing I wrote this year.  It’s bonkers long (more than twice the length of my previous longest fic on AO3) and extremely sad, so posting it at the start of lockdown was sure A Choice.  Honorable mention to the seventh day of the seventh month, which I am very fond of even if it was not as beloved by my readership.

Playlists: Some favorites: I’m a little bit scared of what comes after (a playlist for being sweaty about the concept of the afterlife), The Chariot (a playlist for my Stand Up character), CYCLICAL TIME CYCLICAL TIME (what it says on the tin), the slant of the sun (a playlist of songs about different times of day), disjoint (a playlist for the fic), feels like home (oh, you know).

RPGs: We ran superqueeroes twice!  I also submitted Queer and Together at the End of the World to Golden Cobra! I wrote a supplement for Sleepaway!

Other stuff: Presented at a conference!  Finished a dissertation chapter!  Guest lectured twice!  Had basically everything I was working on in the first three months of the year cancelled in the course of 48 hours!  Made a truly frightening amount of sourdough bread!  Chaired a committee!  Survived this year!

Media I enjoyed this year:

Books: Leagues and Legends and The Locked Tomb both brought me a lot of joy this year.

TTRPG: Okay, so I counted and I’ve played nine different games this year (one of which was Blades in the Dark, which I’ve played quite a lot of, but all the others were new).  Sleepaway wins for this year; please play Sleepaway.  Honorable mention to Sexy Battle Wizards, which I have run twice and was utterly delightful both times.

Video games: “Queenie, a video game section????” you exclaim.  Yes, it’s true, under lockdown the roommates and I started playing video games together, so I’ve actually played (well, yelled encouragement at whoever was driving) a bunch of games this year!  Mutazione was absolutely hands down the best (friendship! gardening! shamanism! exploration of trauma!), with Sunless Skies in second.  Honorable mentions to Deltarune, Oxenfree, Spacewalk, and Night in the Woods.

Manga/comics: JJL................................

Fanfic: God, okay, there are so many, but, in no particular order: everything written for our Sleepaway campaign, rip to orpheus but i’m different (Hadestown), I don’t live today (JJBA), Impatient to Be Free (Les Mis), Mercy and Augustine’s Cake Simulator! (The Locked Tomb), women want me. fish fear me (FFXV), your name, safe in their mouth (MDZS), Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart (MDZS), dialect (JJBA), plan all your moves in advance (Evil Dead), for now, this (TGCF; I actually wanna rec like everything this author has written), New York and London, 1880-2010 (JJBA), the soft animal (MDZS), a landscape in miniature (TGCF), full speed, got my heart on my sleeve (TGCF), and many, many more but this is honestly getting pretty long already...

Films: I watched Knives Out and Parasite in theatres in January and they were really representative of the energy of this year.

TV: Tian Guan Ci Fu.  It’s good y’all.

Podcasts:  My podcast list grows ever longer...  Favorite this year: The Penumbra Podcast, with honorable mentions to Within the Wires, Rusty Quill Gaming, and Unseen.  A special “fascinated by this conceptually but haven’t heard enough to have a developed opinion” nod to In Strange Woods.

Music: Due to losing my commute, I didn’t really listen to many full albums this year, so a lot of my listening trends seem super fragmented.  According to Spotify, my top song for this year was “The Ghost on the Shore” by Lord Huron.  Top album was probably 夏草が邪魔をする.  Weirdly, it’s really hard for me to think of top songs/artists this year--looking at my Spotify playlist it’s a mix of songs on writing playlists (or on playlists that folks made for our Sleepaway campaign) and then songs that I just obsessively looped for a few days.  It was a weird year.

and finally…

Not so good stuff that happened this year:

y’all do I even need to include this section

I will say that when I was little I expected to be married and have kids by 2020 (I had Big Plans for this year) so this has just been like. a wildly surreal year in every dimension.  I was gonna write a blog post about it but writing is hard and feeling emotions silently and never having to shape them into something that can be conveyed with human language is easy (sorry to any future historians hoping to read my blog as a primary source)

Anyway, あけおめ！！！ 良いお年を！！！

[cxptain-carol]

𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 | 𝐦𝐲𝐠

☼ summary: min yoongi may seem a little scary, but it’s nothing that a forbidden trip to the lake and some hufflepuff cheer can’t fix.

☼ pairing: slytherin!min yoongi x hufflepuff!reader (ft. ravenclaw!jungkook)

☼ word count: 2.6k

☼ warnings: none

☼ genre: tureens of fluff and a hint of crack

☼ gender neutral + racially inclusive reader

☼ hogwarts!au

☼ a/n: this was a lot of fun to write! please leave some feedback or drop a like if you enjoyed because more fics will gladly be written with your appreciation!

-

Hufflepuffs don’t do this.

Hufflepuffs don’t sneak through secret corridors, hiding behind walls when the teachers go looking around. Hufflepuffs don’t lie when they get asked a question, wiping their sweaty palms on the backs of their sweaters. Hufflepuffs don’t break the rules.

Hufflepuffs don’t act like Y/N.

-

Heeled boots clicked against the cold tile of the castle floor.

One. 

Two.

Three.

From behind the wall, you turned around to look at Yoongi, holding one finger in front of your lips. He nodded and slowly extended his knees to look over the ledge.

“She’s leaving,” He mouthed to you with a smile.

You could hear the footsteps fading away and as soon as they became fully nonexistent, you let out a long-held breath. You couldn’t savor the moment for too long as Yoongi’s hand was soon wrapped around yours—an inconsiderate move of his, it always made your heart beat a little too fast for your liking. You felt your face heat up but chose to ignore it as Yoongi pulled you through a secret passage lit only by eerie orange lamps. Halfway through the tunnel he let go of your hand, the lack of warmth disorienting enough to make you bump into one, narrowly avoiding setting your shoulder on fire.

“We’re almost there,” Yoongi stated quietly, you following close behind. After a few steps, the route you were taking started to look familiar…

“You’re taking me to that little nook!” You whispered-yelled. “When did you find it?”

“Yesterday. I was trying to avoid a Greengrass. Unbelievably irritating, that one. Always trying to copy my homework. What about you?” Yoongi looked over at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You always noticed the little things like that.

“Two weeks ago. I got bored of my Potions essay and went exploring.” Yoongi nodded, his gaze pointed towards the floor. Soon enough, you two made it to the end of the path.

“Wow,” you exclaimed quietly, taking a seat on the little bench. “It’s beautiful.”

The dusty window of the secluded nook showcased the most magical view of the Great Lake; the shining sun gleaming on its rippling blue surface, the tall trees scattered across the lively green lawn and tiny purple flowers that sprinkled almost every inch of the ground at this time of the year.

“I wish we could go outside,” Yoongi huffed, taking a seat next to you. A thought crossed your mind at his disappointed pout.

“Who says we can’t?” You smirked.

You firmly placed your knees on the faded red cushions and swiped away the stray cobwebs decorating the glass (before wiping them on Yoongi’s sweater, much to his dismay). There was a rusty black latch in the center of the window, but it looked older than dirt and insanely complicated. The situation seemed only winnable with the presence of brute force, something you, a geeky book lover and Yoongi, a skinny vampire-like intellectual, did not possess. After tugging on it a few times, you sighed and sat back down.

“I tried, sorry,” you mumbled.

In the distance, someone was talking loudly, most likely at the end of the corridor. You and Yoongi huddled closer together and looked worriedly at each other. Getting caught would be out of the ordinary for both of you.

The voice got both closer and louder, and by that time you assumed it was a boy from one of the younger years. His words suddenly became much clearer and you felt Yoongi relax beside you, his head dropping into his hands.

You leaned toward him, your voice a whisper. “Do you know who-”

“If it isn’t the man of the hour, Min Yoongi! With who, though? Only the best Hufflepuff has to offer, Y/N Y/L/N, of course- wait, Hufflepuff?”

Yoongi groaned and peeked at the brown-haired Ravenclaw through a gap between his fingers.

“I swear to Merlin, could you be any louder, Jungkook?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve met Jungkook before?” 

With that, the boy held out his hand to you.“Jeon Jungkook at your service! I know everything about everyone who roams these very halls. From the tiniest first year to the groundskeeper, I’ve shaken everyone’s hand and am willing to give up information in exchange for payment-”

“Oh, you forgot your personality traits! I have a few for you—morbidly annoying, a literal shadow to anyone you deem interesting enough-” Yoongi started before Jungkook stole the spotlight back.

“Ignore him. As I was saying, I’m happy to share information but my current fascination is held by the Slytherin prince himself, Mr. Min over here. I’ve been tracking him for weeks.” 

You nodded, taken aback by the third year’s overwhelming enthusiasm.

“Well, we have no idea how to get this window open so maybe you could give it a try?” You offered.

“Wow, the Slytherin prince and his new romantic partner are rule-breakers! Not the type of behavior I would have expected of Y/N Y/L/N, but nonetheless, I will assist you both with mangling a latched window. Good thing I always carry my lucky rock!” Jungkook produced a large grey stone from inside the folds of his robes and held it up in front of your face.

“Where did you find this kid?” You mouthed to Yoongi. He shrugged and shook his head.

“Stand back, sweetheart,” Jungkook added with a wink in your direction before swinging his arm above his head and bringing it down forcefully on the latch, sending the rusty pieces crashing to the ground. Calmly, he tucked the rock back inside his pocket and patted it affectionately.

“Thank you.” You nodded politely at Jungkook.

“After you,” Jungkook replied, motioning towards the now open window, its two glass sides swinging back and forth on their rusty hinges. You quickly climbed out and jumped onto the green grass below. After a few seconds of quiet bickering between the boys that you could barely hear, Yoongi jumped out of the window, Jungkook joining you two shortly after.

“Why are you still here?” Yoongi threw his hands up in defeat at the sight of Jungkook’s triumphant smile.

“I assisted you and Y/N Y/L/N in your rebellious schemes; I think it’s only fair that I get to spend some time here as well,” Jungkook told Yoongi with a youthful smirk on his face. The Slytherin sighed.

“Well, we just went through all that trouble for this, so why don’t we make the most of it?” You offered, shrugging. Jungkook nodded eagerly.

“I really want to check out the lake—I overheard some fourth year Gryffindors talking about Giant Squid sightings.” He happily ran over to the water, leaving you and Yoongi alone.

“If I’m gonna be so rebellious I might as well go all the way,” you mumbled, pulling your thick sweater over your head and tying it around your waist. You unbuttoned your crisp white sleeves and rolled them up before loosening your yellow and black striped tie, briefly lifting your gaze to meet Yoongi’s. He blushed, but looked down at his shoes and then at the Ravenclaw that stood by the lake.

“He seems like a pain, but he’s growing on me,” Yoongi admitted, walking closer to you.

“Oh, really?” You teased, bumping Yoongi’s shoulder. Noticing a quaint little tree that provided an ideal amount of shade, you grabbed his arm and ran over. You were seconds away when you tripped over a tree root and tumbled down, Yoongi beside you.

“Dammit.” You groaned, propping your torso up on your elbows. Taking a nervous glance at Yoongi, your eyes bugged.

His sweater was covered in dirt marks and grass stains.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry. I-I’ll buy you a new one. I understand if you’re mad-”

“Merlin, Y/N calm down; I’m not mad,” Yoongi, calmly replied. You stared at him, speechless.

For years, you felt embarrassingly threatened by Min “Slytherin Prince” Yoongi and his fancy watches, neatly styled hair and the aura of wealth that he emitted. You were careful not to cross him, for fear that his unbelievably rich parents would obliterate you and get away with it (and Yoongi’s cold demeanor did little to disprove this).

It was always eye-opening to see him so casual. You two had become friends at the start of the year when you went to the owlery to retrieve a letter from your friend’s great grey and ran into Yoongi—literally. Owls were quite unsettling to you and in your haste to get out of there as quickly as possible, you ran straight into him and hurt your head. You two made polite conversation in the following minutes and went your separate ways. It truly shocked you when you snuck out to the kitchens that night for a snack and found Yoongi outside the Hufflepuff common room, drenched in vinegar. You later learned that he was trying to make sure you were feeling better.

“You’re not? But I’m sure that was super expensive or whatever and now it’s ruined,” You looked down, running your fingers through the grass below you. Yoongi sat up and tugged off his sweater, folding it and laying it down on the lawn. 

You two sat in awkward silence under the tree, staring out at the lake for what felt like so long, you were scared that Jungkook would come running back with a groundbreaking magical discovery and seven new toad friends. It was getting a little too quiet for your liking.

“I don’t usually do things like this,” you blurted out, breaking the silence.

“Neither do I.” Yoongi scooted over next to you, rolling up his sleeves. He was so close that you could feel his body heat and it was making you freak out internally.

“Is that persona you have in the hallways—rich boy, nice clothes, top of the class—is that really who you are?” You realized too late that asking that was definitely intrusive.

“Not really, no.” Yoongi looked up from his lap and into your eyes; you were sweating profusely.

“I love music,” he sighed out, “but my parents would never let me pursue it.” You could hear the pain in his voice.

“That must suck.” You nodded awkwardly, not sure of what to say. “Forget them, if you really want to make music, I’ll suport you.” 

Yoongi’s eyes lit up. “Thanks.” 

You smiled, playing with the blades of grass underneath you.

The two of you stayed liked that for a bit, breathing calmly, gazing into each other’s eyes. It was scary how much you two liked each other, and even scarier that neither of you could see that.

“You know, I’ve been quite the rebel this year. My parents wouldn’t be too thrilled.” Yoongi chuckled—it was a beautiful sound. You bit your lip as you watched him look out to the lake, giving you the chance to admire his side profile.

“But I thought being ‘bad’ was on the Slytherin agenda,” you joked. Yoongi chuckled.

“Let’s just say, I’m not like most Slytherins.”

You almost choked from laughing.

“You’re pulling the ‘not like other girls’ card on me right now! Come on,” you said with a grin.

“Well, most Slytherins don’t run around with cute little Hufflepuffs like you.” Yoongi smirked before his eyes grew wide. “Did I really just say that?”

“Yup. Thank you, by the way. You’re cute too.” This time you were smirking.

The most adorable blush coated Yoongi’s squishable cheeks, making you melt a little inside. Everything about him seemed so perfect—his soft black hair, the shy smile on his pink lips, his warm brown eyes—you could’ve sworn he was an angel. It was crazy to you that just last year you were scared of the precious cutie in front of you.

You snapped out of your thoughts and quickly looked into your lap.

“I-I like you Yoongi, like, a lot more than I thought I would.”

You didn’t look up but could feel him staring at you.

“I always thought you were so cold and honestly, scary, but now that I know you, I know that you’re not like that at all. You’re funny and nice and from the way you and Jungkook talk to each other, it’s obvious that you bottle up your feelings and stuff, but I’m totally cool with you not liking me if that’s how it is and well… yeah.”

You looked up at the black haired boy beside you, the expression behind his eyes unreadable. You were sweating (somehow even more than you already had been), awaiting his response when he finally parted his lips.

“I like you too, Y/N.”

You lifted your head once more and even though you couldn’t see yourself, you were sure your entire face had just lit up.

“This is so damn cheesy, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before. The only two people I feel like I can be myself around are Jungkook and you. Mostly you, but anyways, I-I like you a lot more than you probably know, well, I’ve liked you for a while but that’s not important and-” You silenced him by bringing a finger up to his lips.

Now was the moment. You could feel it. Your heart was beating like a stampede as you now held one of Yoongi’s hands in yours. He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your face. He smelled of something sweet and fresh; like clean laundry or crisp autumn apples. The black hair that you were so obsessed with was softly swaying in the afternoon breeze that lightly chilled your now sweater-less form and turned your cheeks cold. Your gaze moved down to his lips, but quickly shot back up due to your nervousness. Yoongi was watching you just as intently, wondering if you were going to go for it.

From the scared look in your eyes, it became clear that you weren’t.

With a small smile on his lips, Yoongi reached out, his fingers guiding your chin back in his direction.

“May I kiss you, Y/N Y/L/N?”

Shyly, you nodded.

With Yoongi’s hand holding the side of your face, your lips were soon captured by his. Caught off guard, but expecting it, you easily melted into the kiss, pressing yourself against him. You had been waiting for this moment for what felt like ages, thinking about each little detail and to have it finally happen was overwhelming. You were relishing in the warm and inviting taste of his lips and the feather-light touches that he traced up and down your arm. To be honest, you didn’t want it to end.

Much to your dismay, Yoongi broke the kiss suddenly, staring into your eyes briefly before pressing his lips to yours again. You could feel him smile against your lips and you found yourself beaming too before reaching up and placing your hand over the one that rested against your cheek. You felt so free and so young, wrapped up in Yoongi’s embrace—it was liberating to finally be one of those love-struck teenagers that you used to despise so much before you realized it was all just jealousy.

This time you pulled away, burying your head in the crook of Yoongi’s neck, a shy yet enormous grin stretching across your face. You two didn’t have to say a single word; you both knew how the other felt. Yoongi’s right hand rested on the top of your head, the other softly stroking your arm. When you finally lifted your head, Jungkook was sitting on the grass about ten feet away. He held his face between his two hands, pouting at the both of you.

“That. Was. Adorable!”

You chuckled, your face heating up. Yoongi was unamused, but his displeasure soon became joy as he laughed along with you two, an arm still wrapped tightly around your waist.

[murrey2012]

I’d love to say my fingers have been furiously typing in completion of a chapter of any kind, but I’m almost afraid to open the last thing I was working on to see the last saved date. In my defense, I’ve been on an extremely stressful and time consuming project at work since last May and I’m proud to say that I’ve had three mental breakdowns so far. 

As for writing, I opened a story I’ve been tentatively working on for a couple years now (as in started five years ago and have barely touched since) and I read what I have down and I am honestly frustrated on the cliffhanger I left myself on. I want more! And my brain has to come up with it. *Insert deep sigh here* I’m almost too afraid to try and work on it because I’m honestly in love with my writing style I was using and I’m not sure I can do it justice now. Plus, I probably should actually develop an outline of some sort for this one and I’m just not that kind of person. 

I’ve got two ideas I’d really like to develop because I’ve been thinking of them for years now and I’ve got the first chapter written for one and the first-ish chapter written for the other. 

I’m particularly proud of this little gem I had completely forgotten I’d written:

“I wasn’t sure if anything would actually fit,” Chloe said, stepping into view. “So I just grabbed some pa-ants!”

She whipped her head around and covered her eyes with the pants. “And you’re baring it all. Okay. Sorry about that.”

I did just reread The Reckoning while avoiding my work project so that was a good refresher on character personalities. I’d like to reread the Darkness Rising trilogy, too, because I’m super rusty on that but I only have my Darkest Powers Omnibus with me and I don’t want to risk driving to my Dad’s to get the rest of my Kelley Armstrong and potentially giving him anything I might be carrying. Aren’t pandemics great?

Well, that’s enough rambling for one post. Feel free to message me or something with demands for a chapter or something. It’s not going to get my ass to stop dragging but you never know. Also, if you have any ideas for more of one-shot type things, I could use the writing practice again on something quick. 

TTFN

[lemon-writings]

Hamish Update Pt. III

Genre: Literary fiction // Word count: 77,037

Here we are! Chapters VII-IX! I’ve written these chapters really recently, so I can go a little more in-depth with the process. The second half of this book (and specifically this particular trio of chapters, for some reason) is definitely the part I’m most proud of. Writing everything coming to fruition is just so satisfying. Is this what people who write books with actual plot feel like? Because it makes me consider writing books with real plot.

But in all honesty, I really enjoy writing this part of Hamish. I’m super happy with how everything’s turning out. One problem I do have with the latter half is that it is super depressing to write all the time, especially with the amount of rain we’ve been getting in Ohio right now (we love depression), so it is taking me a little longer to write than normal, since I keep sidetracking with random projects to try taking my mind off the deeper things. But when I am working on it, the words just flow. It’s beautiful.

Chapter VII

Epitaph: “I’m a strange new kind of inbetween thing aren’t I? Not at home with the dead nor with the living.”-Anne Carson, Antigone

Here is what’s been building this entire time: the funeral. That, and everything funerals entail, with the Celebration of Life and whatnot. The first time I wrote this, I read the funeral scene to my mom in full detail, and she started crying, because it reminded her of her father’s funeral. I, personally, loathe funerals, for what boils down to the fact that I am greatly horrified by being in the same room as someone who I once knew to be alive. That, and the crippling fear of death most people experience at least once in their lives.

There’s also a lot of Horacio’s... fantasies. There’s something deeply personal about the way I write him, sometimes, that makes rereading certain parts difficult. Horacio, in his darkest moments, feels he deserves bad things happening to him, nearly craves them, and he hates himself for it. The amount of self-loathing in this work is high.

Excerpts: 

Horacio, as always, is concerned about Hamish’s state of being alive, because that man always looks halfway dead, and at times, he’s more ghost than living person

The question of if you were dead or alive laid on my tongue, begging to be asked. Maybe I should’ve asked you. Maybe I should’ve checked your pulse. Maybe I should’ve laid my head on your chest and listened to your heartbeat. Maybe I should’ve left with you then and there and avoided the trap Leon kept guiding us to.

Hot take from a Farm Child: broken machinery is one of the most haunting things you can ever see. I could probably wax poetic about how terrible their beauty is, but I really don’t think anyone wants to hear about farm machines for three hours. (On a completely serious note, my uncle’s coat got tangled in a grain auger yesterday, and he could have died. Be safe around farm machinery. Please. It can be really dangerous, even if you’ve been around it for 60+ years.)

Leon’s descriptions are always some variant of men thinking being tall is intimidating. 

Leon bared his teeth once more, the animalistic beauty of it all making me wonder where Leon ended and his rage began. Primal is often used as a way to pull down others, to say you are not advanced the way I am, but Leon’s rage seemed like an advancement of humanity, a way of saying I have advanced my own humanity through my anger. He was gorgeous in the same way broken tractors on the side of the road are, monolithic kings taken over by the passage of time, their steel teeth rusty and eternal.

Did I reference “Father” by Warsan Shire? Yes. Yes, I did. Hamish is a huge Warsan Shire fan, because, like, it has his vibes. 

You recited a poem about fathers, about death, about life, speaking it as if it were scripture. When you finished, you began again. Or perhaps you never ended, speaking this poem forwards, then backwards, then repeating cyclically.

Yeet.

Chapter VIII

Epitaph: “I could be a wolf for you. I could put my teeth on your throat. I could growl. I could eat you whole. I could wait for you in the dark. I could howl against your hair.”-Catherynne M. Valente, “The Red Girl”, The Bread We Eat in Dreams

There’s a lot of plot stuff that happens in this chapter, so unfortunately, I do have to be a little shorter when it comes to this summary, but let it be said that I am not meant to be a thriller/action author. Do I enjoy watching Indiana Jones and Star Wars? Yes, I do. Should I be writing anything close to that? Absolutely not. It takes a lot of effort to do, and even with that, I would say that any sort of action scene I write is... not exactly “half-baked”, but most certainly not up to par with the rest of my writing. I’ll need to edit this chapter heavily the next time I go through Hamish.

That being said, there are moments in this chapter that I am proud of. Horacio and Ofelia’s interactions in this chapter are some of my favorites, just because they’re some of the only characters in this book who don’t violently hate/distrust each other.

Excerpts: 

When I mentioned kudzu to my mother, she mentioned it was an invasive species she’d seen a lot of during her time in the south, which just confirmed that it was a great metaphor to use. That’s always a sign, right?

I looked down at the flowers, then at her, wiser than anyone I’d ever met, the freedom ripping open her seams like something terrible and sharp, the parts of her that were so carefully cultivated spilling out of her like kudzu.

Horacio feels like he’s the only real person in a world of ghosts. The disconnect between Horacio and the people around him is heavily based upon the first time I disassociated. We watched the Blue Man Group in Chicago on a music/Spanish department trip, and the second I walked out of the building, I thought I was a freaking ghost. I had my first panic attack at 14 because I didn’t know if I was actually experiencing life. It was a wild experience.

Next to Ofelia, I looked out of place. Ofelia was hazy and magical in her presence, looking more like a dreamy memory than a real person, as if I touched her, my hand would touch only air. I was the solid type of real, unfortunately. Tall and unnaturally skinny, with a gritty, starving look to myself, the two of us next to each other were like a pastel-covered, out-of-focus impressionist painting next to a photograph of childhood labor in Industrial Revolution-era factories.

There’s also a confrontation with Leon that has some, um, spoilery moments. Leon is an asshole. I kind of love him.

Chapter IX

Epitaph: “[Grief is pain internalized, abscess of the soul. Anger is pain as energy, sudden explosion.]”-Lauren Groff, Fates and Furies

Again, there’s a lot going on in this chapter. A lot. Marcus the bodyguard makes another appearance (underappreciated character of the book) and acts as a guardian angel. Bless Marcus. Seriously.

This chapter is more introspective than the last, so I enjoyed writing it a bit more. Or... a lot more, actually. I was not created to write action scenes, and I accept my fate. Horacio’s musings on fate are long-winded and beautiful and what I’m meant to write. It’s just a chapter of him reflecting, pining, and wishing he was in a different situation. Which. Fair.

Moments like this make me realize I am a cruel god who treats her characters terribly.

Excerpts: 

Starting this chapter strong with the true weighted blanket: death.

Death cloaked me like your blanket.

As I said before, Marcus? Underutilized character. I use him as much as I can, but the plot makes it difficult to use him as much as I wish. He’s the man we deserve.

Marcus was smart, was good at playing the game we all played without making it apparent that he was playing it. He knew what he was doing. “I want the best for Hamish,” Marcus said. He looked into my eyes. “You do, too.”

Horacio takes a moment to think awful, rage-colored thoughts about the people around him, which are, of course, one of my favorite things to wax poetic about. He’s a salty man, and he has all rights to be, because this entire work is just “things to be salty about, the novel”. Poor Horace. He just wants to live in a gay daydream, but he’s stuck in a nightmare. 

(Not to sound too Midwestern, but OPE, the shade.)

These people played their sick, twisted games like gods, forcing everyone to play along for their survival while they watched and knew exactly what they were doing to the rest of us mortals around them. In that moment, I was filled with the type of righteous anger that made me understand why people were drawn to religion. I wanted a higher power to strike them down, to make an example of them all, to say don’t do this, or you’ll end up like them.

I sounded like my parents, like all the religious nuts I’d ever met, the ones who said that those who didn’t fall their doctrine were inferior, were going to die, and suffer for being different. Is that how it begins? Is anger the true root of all cruelty?

That last line, is anger the true root of all cruelty? was probably my favorite line when I first wrote Hamish. It’s sort of become a thesis statement for Horacio’s past and the way he sees the world. 

Lastly, of course, we have

The Jams

We have a fine selection of songs here, a lot from my Lucy playlist (Lucy has one of my favorite playlists I’d ever made).

Oh No!!! - grandson

Temple Priest (feat. Paul Wall & Kota the Friend) - MISSIO

Destroy Me - grandson

BTSTU - Jai Paul

Seven Devils - Florence + The Machine

Pretty Little Head - Eliza Rickman

That’s the tea, y’all. If you’re interested in this and hearing writing updates for Hamish, then ask to be added to the tags list!

[holysainxt-blog]

have you seen [ ANTHONY “SAINT” CALDERAS ] since the storm? some say they look like [ XAVIER SERRANO ] but they’re [ 21 ]  & go by [ THE POLYMATH ].  [ HE ] lived in halloway for [ 7 YEARS ] & they are originally from [ SAN ANTONIO ]. before the town vanished they were studying [ CULINARY ARTS/BUSINESS ] and lived at [ UNI BLVD ]. most people knew the [ CISMALE ] as [ +CHARMING ] but i’ve heard they can also be [ -PRIDEFUL ]. for some reason, they feel [ RELIEVED ] about the town’s disappearance. ( madi, 21, she/her, cst )

hi all! i’m madi, and i dunno about you but i’m pretty f*cking pumped about being part of this group. i am super hungover & at work right now, so i’m not sure how responsive i’m going to be, but i’m gonna try my best. 

also, a little disclaimer – - this is my first time being a part of a rp in about THREE YEARS, so if i’m a little rusty, please be patient with me!! saint is a very new muse for me and i’m still building out his character some, but below the cut you’ll be able to find out a little more about him. i’ve also listed a couple of plot ideas, but i’m a big fan of plots based on brainstorming and chemistry! i’m genuinely hoping to plot with each and every one of you, so like this post or just slide into my dms anytime. i’m going to be adding an actual wanted connections page to my page tonight, and will likely be getting a true bio up for sainty tomorrow :)

stats:

name: anthony “saint” calderas

age: 21

birthday: dec. 1st

gender: male

sexuality: heterosexual

height: 6ft 1inch

hair: brown

eyes: hazel

star sign:> sagittarius 

“sagittarians are lucky by nature, so they usually display a cheerful and optimistic disposition. their inherent curiosity keeps them more interested in what will happen tomorrow rather than focuses on the mistakes of today. a state of constant change is a delight for them.”

traits: 

+ charming, idealistic, confident, independent, open-minded, honest

- impulsive, cocky, impatient, fickle, superficial, self-important, prideful

name: anthony “saint” calderas

the nickname “saint” starting as a joke, but then it happened to stick. not only did saint grow up with extremely religious catholic parents who he was never able to please. but he also was always anything but a saint. he was always the student getting sent to the principal's office. not necessarily a “bad boy,” but rather a boy who was always acting without thinking.

label: polymath

“a person who is keen on learning new stuff ; not necessarily a genius, just genuinely interesting in getting to know new things, in broadening their horizon.”

saint was blessed with the gift of luck, meaning everything always came easily to him – whether this was classes, sports, or other hobbies. because of this, he loves to try new things. however, he never truly becomes an expert on any subject, as he likes to dabble in too many things at once.

originally from: san antonio, tx

saint’s family moved to holloway just before he started his freshman year of high school. his dad was originally from the small town, and after his mom (saint’s grandma) became extremely ill, they decided it was best to relocate the family to care for her. 

since very few of his friends were leaving for college and he was awarded a scholarship, saint decided to stay in town after graduating so that he could attend the local university. despite growing tensions between him and his parents. 

major: culinary arts/business

saint is technically only at junior status at the moment, even though he’s been in college for four years. he started off as a finance major (which is what his family wanted him to do), but after a year of extreme unhappiness, he switched to something he thought he might actually enjoy.

cooking was always something he went to as a stress relief. before the disappearances, he thought he might one day opening his own restaurant. now, he’s now so sure. 

how he feels about the disappearances: relieved 

other thoughts/fun facts:

saint is really horrible with relationships. as in, he’ll date someone for maybe a couple of months and then out of the blue dump them and move on asap. he’s such a fickle person that honestly it would take a lot to hold his interest for longer than this.

my boy is cross country, student radio, and book club! 

saint would have worked as a barista at some hipster coffee shop in his free time, but his side hustle was spinning records at a tiny dive bar. 

he had a really rough freshman year at college, he was experiencing really awful panic attacks and was diagnosed with anxiety – but after several years and attending therapy sessions regularly (which his parents were never aware of) he's at a point where he's doing much better. still, almost anything that sainty does is meant as a means of ESCAPE. running, listening to music, all of it is a distraction from his feelings and emotions.  

plot ideas: 

you can find some of my inspiration for wanted plots under this tag on my account. 

i want a little “bro” squad, i want exes, i want study buddies, give me all the plots! i have a lot of ideas – i just need to get them written out, but in the meantime we can always brainstorm!! 

[benhaardy]

fresh || b.h.

REQUEST: an imagine where the reader is friends with ben from her first year of highschool, and they stay friends through till sixth form, before they move to uni they confess their feelings for each other and it’s all fluffy and nice💖💖💖

A/N: helloooo thank you for sending me a request i hope i did this justice!! im super rusty but here goes!!!!!! i feel like a noob cause i dont really know how drama clubs function sorry but this is how the clubs i’ve been in kinda functioned during a free time period yknow? also i hope i got the school stuff right lol im aMeRiCan. yeet i would loveeeee some feedback because this is the first time ive ever written in second person so uhhh hit up my askbox! also i am basic and do not know anything about high school plays so they do romeo and juliet i apologize, yes it is basic and all quotes from it are taken OUT OF CONTEXT so uh just-just disregard romeo and juliet the play and characters and yeah whatever.

i tried my hardest to make this neutral for the reader so hair, eye colour, skin, shouldn’t be a problem though there is some playing with your hair tho lol.

Y/HT means your hometown.

had a blast writing this, thank you for sending in a request <3333. hope you like!

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: fem!reader, one or two bad words?, p fluffy and also l o l rusty writer right here. this wasn’t proofread and was beta’d halfway so apologies for any inaccuracies or typos.

fresh

Isabel led you down the long hallway, fluorescent lights beaming down upon both of you as you walked. She looked behind at you, encouraging and cheerful as always. As you made your way to the drama room, you clenched your fists and breathed deeply. You had joined the drama club at the encouraging of Isabel, wanting to finally make more friends after a few days of being in this new school, this whole new place. Everything was different here, but maybe you could have one constant in this close group of people. You were nervous. It showed. She reassured, “Don’t worry, Y/N. We’re probably, like, the most relaxed people on this campus. You’ve got nothing to worry about, alright?”

You nodded at her, a tight smile on your lips. Hopefully, she was right. Though you’d always known drama kids to be loud and fun, you couldn’t help but shake that self-conscious feeling inside.

She opened the door for you both and let you enter before her into the room. The walls were painted black and had colourful drawings and paintings hung up on them which were student made. In the middle of the room were at least 15 people either sitting in chairs or scattered about on the ground. They were all doing their own thing. Some people were acting out scenes with each other, others were just talking amongst themselves or playing around. Two boys were in the corner kicking a football at each other while reciting A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

“Everyone? Welcome Y/N to the club!” You waved shyly at them and their exclamations at your presence. “Come over here with me,” said Isabel, who showed you over to an open seat in the middle of the room, next to a blonde boy. His face lit up at the sight of you coming to him.

“You must be the great Y/N Izzy’s always talking about!” He patted the seat next to him where you sat down. “I’m Ben.” He grinned at you, pearly whites shining. Ben adjusted his beanie and sat nonchalantly, hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Y/N,” you replied. You were still on edge but Ben seemed nice enough. You two sat for a little in silence, watching the chaos of the club in motion. Isabel had left to kick the football with the boys.

“So Y/N,” he piped up, ”tell me about yourself.” He sat forward, intent on listening to whatever you were gonna say.

“I moved here from Y/HT. I was never really into drama before now, I guess, but I used to act when I was younger. Isabel convinced me to join again ‘cause I’m still trying to find my way around here,” you replied, a small, nervous laugh following your words.

“Well, you’ll always be welcome here! I joined after I got injured and I fell in love with acting. I hope you stay.” Ben grinned at you, a glint in his eye.

--

Three years had passed. Three years of plays and lawless drama kids and Ben. You had grown extremely close with him, hanging out as much as possible, helping each other with your lines, and staying near each other during rehearsals and meetings. Both of you were attached at the hip. You were more at his house then you were at your own.

You had simply just fit. Snug and at home with each other. Snug enough that you had grown to have feelings for him. You prayed that it was just those normal feelings that people have for their best friends, where they were teetering dangerously over the line of romance but stayed safe, still platonic. Your prayers were not answered and you had fallen, hard, for your best friend.

It was hard to hide your feelings, hard to hide when he was so kind. Ben was willing to hold you up when you were low and willing enough to know pretty much everything about you without forgetting what you liked and what irked you. He hosted you at his house with no problem. Though you did the same, it was great knowing someone would give that same love back.

He was so affectionate and always greeted you with a grin and a kiss on the cheek. “Darling,” “love,” and “angel,” were synonymous with your name at this point. Ben invited you out to grab food, or watch a movie, or go shopping, and he always paid without fail. When you left his presence, when you looked down upon yourself, “I love you’s” from him were always, always there. Ben embraced you with open arms, in a figurative way and literally.

He was home. Simple as that.

Your friends summed it up when they said that you and Ben were like,”an old, married couple.” His warmth spread into your heart and now it felt like it was squeezing it. Squeezing it and then dropping it on the floor. Multiple times. Strange enough, you hadn’t changed much on the outside. You were still the same old Y/N around him but the second you got home, everything changed. You sat at your desk, head in hands. You were supposed to be doing homework but that was thrown out the window once you hung out with him that day, your mind taken over.

On those complicated nights, you contemplated telling Ben everything: how you planned out your words so you wouldn’t say anything stupid around him, how you sat alone with your thoughts at night just thinking, thinking about him, how his “I love you” made your heart pang with longing and fondness. You were worried everything would change. Even though you knew if you became a couple, nothing would become any different than before.

You could not take that chance. You couldn’t risk losing Ben.

--

You were laying down on Ben’s chest, him propped up on his backpack against the wall in the drama room. Both of you were reading from the script in your hands. His chin was on your head and you could feel him mouthing the words to his lines. He was playing with your hair mindlessly, this affection, again, extremely apparent. You turned your head to look at him and poked his cheek, to which he responded by puffing out his cheeks. Both of you laughed and resumed your routine, watching your ever chaotic drama mates be loud and rehearse, all in preparation for your last ever play before university: Romeo and Juliet.

Ben was cast as Romeo and you, Juliet. Before, you both had preferred taking side roles. You two were hidden gems, the quiet ones, but Isabel had pushed you to try to take the lead one time. Everyone was working as hard as ever to make the play special; a fourth of the club was off to uni after this year.

He put his arms around your waist, squeezed your body tight, and nuzzled his face into your shoulder as you read out loud, “O gentle Romeo, / If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully.” He read his part and you both read until Juliet had to leave.

You could feel Ben’s chest go up and down as he breathed steadily. It was as if there was no one else in the room other than you two as you practiced your lines. You recited,

“And yet I wish but for the thing I have:

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite.”

--

Tonight was the last performance of Romeo and Juliet. It was extremely bittersweet. You could see how everyone had improved in their methods over the years and today was the last demonstration of that, the last day everyone would truly be together like this. Everyone was going to different universities, all for different reasons and majors. Romeo and Juliet was your final curtain.

Ben’s family came to you after you dressed out of your costume. They gave you flowers and sung their praises at your performance. They gave you a ride to the diner where you were to meet with the rest of the club to celebrate your successful performances.

Both of you shuffled into a booth in the corner along with the other 4 members who had their last performances sat with you. You and Ben ordered your normal stack of pancakes and fruit. He had his arm around you the entire time, switching from your shoulder to your waist every once in a while as you both conversed with the rest of your uni-bound friends. Your friend who was sitting on yours and Ben’s side left to talk with the lower classmen. Leaning against Ben, you put your feet up on the rest of the booth.

“Hand me my makeup wipes, yeah?” You asked Ben, pointing back to your bag on his side. You heard him rummaging around in your things.

“Here, love.” He gave you the wipes and you wiped off all of the heavy stage makeup, undid your hair, and shook it all out. You sat up again and looked up at him who looked as if he was watching you closely. It was only one second, though. Only one second.

--

Your food had come, the meal had been had, the cheerful crying at your third-to-last goodbyes to your group had ceased and now you and Ben were walking home together through the park close to your own house. The ground was wet with rain, though thankfully, it had subsided and there were no clouds lightening the night sky. The moon was full, the grass was dewy, and there was potential in the air. A spark.

As he walked alongside you, you thought of how his kiss during the play had stuck on your lips and how his hand tightly clasped in yours while you professed your love felt. Though the words of Juliet just flew through you, it all felt real, even with the period costumes and lights and stage. His lines were simply just that. Lines. Words that were written 400 years ago, in language from 400 years ago that he acted out on stage to you and you back to him. But it just felt real, much too real. You were alone with your thoughts once again, the subject of them standing just right beside you in silence himself.

“Y/N?” Ben piped up.

“Yes?” You looked at him looking up at the sky.

“Don’t you think how crazy it is that three years ago we met, we talked about why we joined the club, and you were really only here on a whim? Now tonight, it’s our last performance in this group ever. And you weren’t even sure if you wanted to stay! We’re here now and I was Romeo and you were my Juliet and—I just feel as if everything’s that led up to us being here was so special. Like you were meant by the universe to join the club, sit next to me and talk to me and be my best friend. You were a blessing, Y/N, my blessing, and I just-”

Your smile grew and grew and grew and your pulse quickened and everything felt wild. Absolutely, motherfucking wild. Your limbs were jelly. There were alarms going off in your brain “You just what, Ben?” You said softly, tears at your eyes at his lovely, lovely words. He turned to face you as you both stopped underneath a lamppost, the light and the moonlight softly illuminating features. Your best friend stepped closer to you. “You just what, Ben?” You now whispered, seeing his own gooey smile and his eyes, filled with tears, drop down to your lips and back up again to your eyes.

“I just—I love you, Y/N,” he whispered. “I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, Ben.” Your grin was wide enough that it squeezed the tears out of your eyes. “I’ve loved you since, like, year 11!” You laughed while wiping away the wetness from your face.

He blushed and took your hand in his. “I got a crush on you two months after we met, dude.”

“No freaking way, Ben!” Your eyes went wide. He liked you for this long? And here you were contemplating everything, overthinking everything!

“Yes, way!” He laughed. “I didn’t want to leave it until we left to uni together because I know I’d be agonizing over it. They say uni’ll be the best years of our lives so… why not start it out with a bang? In more than one way, if you know what I’m saying…” he said playfully, winking. You rolled your eyes and made an attempt at pushing his shoulder, but you both snickered at his joke.

“I love you, Ben. Seriously.”

“And I love you, Y/N. Seriously.”

[unboundpen]

Pandemonium [1/3?]

[Next]

Fandom: Batman

Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth

Pairing: JasonDamian

Rated: T

Warnings: Damian is aged up, should be in college.

Summary: 

After being away from Earth for a while, Jason notices that Damian is a lot more attention-grabbing than before. Eh, growing attractions are nothing....Right?

Read on AO3

A/N: So it’s been many years since I’ve truly sat down and finished writing a fic. Life has been hectic, I lost my mojo to continue writing, then went back to school and it pretty much consumed my life. Anyways, this was written based off of what @batboys-batboys-whachu-gonna-do had posted almost a year ago and I caught wind of it. It’ll be two or three chapters depending on if I’m up for writing smut with this fic. I said I was going to write something and then went MIA again. Anyways comment on ao3 or send me an ask or reblog with reactions if you guys enjoyed it. I’m very rusty, so go easy on me.

Jason isn’t even sure if he should be out patrolling Gotham tonight. He’s so dead tired that he feels himself get heavier on the cable he’s currently swinging on. Kori had landed the ship back on Earth the night before and if he were to be completely honest with himself, he should have just stayed in bed. The idea of sleeping for a few years before even thinking about getting back into normal everyday crime fighting was really starting to seem like the better option. And yet... here he was, swinging from building to building, looking out into the city he always called home.

Exhaustion crept heavily through his body. It made his vision blur and had been severe enough to make him go cross-eyed a few times. He scrubs at his face, trying to chase the fatigue away as he second-guesses his decision to patrol tonight -feeling the worn leather of his gloves rub against anywhere not covered by the domino mask. It had been a slow night anyway…but just as he reaches out to shoot another line to change his path back to the designated safe house for the night, he hears the very distinct but familiar sound of people getting beaten up in an alley.

Jason follows the sounds of muted groans and painful hits landing -and then sudden silence- until he drops down to the scene of unconscious baddies being zip-tied by another mask in the shadows. He surveys the destruction and lets out a low whistle while toeing one of them by the leg.

"Guess you didn't need any backup."

He hears a familiar snort, "I hardly ever do. It's only five men."

Jason looks over at the figure in the shadows and watches as they stand up and walk over to him. His eyes widen behind the mask.

There stood Robin in all his Robin-y glory. His eyes rake over Robin's form, noticing that the uniform had been adjusted to fit not just his height but also the lithe bulk he had also gained. It reminded him of a certain acrobat they both knew. It was close but not quite. He would have thought this was someone else who had taken on the mantle, but the same minute details were there: hooded cape encasing his head, sword, and sheath at his side, and the ever useful and painful clawed spikes that protruded from the kid's gloves. Not to mention the air of annoying haughtiness that only came from being the direct heir to Bruce Wayne.

"I gotta say, you certainly shot up from the last time I saw you." He feels his lips stretch into a grin.

"-Tt- It was inevitable."

"Nonetheless," Jason pauses to do another slow look, "you look good for someone who is supposed to be suffering through puberty."

"Considering my parentage, it has come as no surprise." Robin answers simply before reaching into his belt for a few more zip ties and holds them out to Jason, "Make yourself useful, Hood, and get those two."

Jason blinks, taking the offered items unconsciously. He half expected the kid to react a bit differently, maybe even get a little flustered. Jason certainly thought so.

Jason frowns in contemplation as he maneuvers one of the thugs in front of him onto their front, restraining the unconscious man with one of the ties before moving onto the next one. He hears the faint sound of bodies being dragged into a pile.

"So, what's a birdie like you doing in my neck of the woods anyway?"

"You were gone-"

“-Well, no shit," Jason interjects, shaking his head. Again reminded of how tired he really was. He looks over at the other mask currently frowning at Jason and arms crossed.

"You were gone," the other mask emphasizes loudly, as if admonishing Jason's interruption, "henceforth I took it upon myself to patrol your area until you got back."

"I guess no one told you I got back yesterday?”

“On the contrary, Father already has a written report of your return in the system."

Jason sighs, “Of course he has,” he opts to rub his eyes through the mask, "Guess I tripped the alert system he has over my known locations?”

“Actually,” Robin pauses, tilting his head to the side as the sound of sirens faintly begin to sound around them and then reaches up to shoot a line up one of the buildings.

Jason watches him glide up through the air, admiring the fluidity of the movement before he follows. Once he lands next to the bird, Robin continues, “Superman alerted father of your return.”

Jason grunts and crosses his arms thoughtfully. That wasn’t a surprising thing either. Clark had always been watchful of him even while he was still wearing the cape and green panties. Even the thought that the super could be listening in on their conversation caused a shiver to run all throughout Jason’s body. Before he could even say anything, Robin moves to the other side of the building without another look at Jason.

“I trust you have the rest handled from here, Red Hood,” Robin says flippantly over his shoulder. The older man watches silently as the Robin turns around, gives him a nod, then hauls himself over the raised concrete and over the other side of it.

And with that Robin is gone, leaving no trace of himself except in Jason’s mind.

xXx

It’s about four days later before Jason feels himself get comfortable with his place in Gotham again. He’s well rested now, but he realizes with the year or so he’s been away, his files aren’t up-to-date. It was one thing if a few robberies occurred here or there, but when he’s heard of several incidents involving a certain mob boss who had been steadily moving into his territory, he figures he needs to get on that asap. He doesn’t rely too much on the other members of the bat family, but he would have expected that the files would be constantly updated while he was away. It was most likely that Tim was more busy with the Titans and Babs was preoccupied with other things. Thus he finds himself parking his bike in the bat cave.

If there was one thing that Jason expects to not change significantly, it would be the cave. The same old giant penny and t-rex were in their respective spaces. The only things ever changing were all the tech that got recycled every now and then. He surveys the area, noting that he was the only one there in this moment. He makes it a point to himself to ignore the glass case holding a certain uniform.

Jason strolls over to the computer, booting it up and realizes that the program was updated when the screen prompts for a password. He decides not to risk it as the memory of the last time he tried to flashes up in his mind.

The ink had stained his skin for weeks….

He wonders who is in the manor for a moment before he feels a presence at his side. Jason is a bit too surprised to even move away as the figure types in the password, a nonsensical password that would have been impossible to guess. And before he could stop himself, his eyes roam.

“Someone needs to put a bell on you,” he states absentmindedly.

Damian…looked really good. A short-sleeved, white, button-up shirt snug around his shoulders and upper body as he was crouching over the control panel. His head was looking up at the screen, neck stretched invitingly while watching it. Jason’s eyes slide down until he reaches the jeans that fit very nicely on Damian’s legs, enveloping his thighs and….

“-Tt- I anticipated your visit.” Damian types on the keyboard for a third password and then turns his head to stare back at Jason, “I updated the system for better security as requested by father while you were away.”

Jason feels his eyes still linger on the brat’s ass before looking up to meet Damian’s eyes. Oh boy….

The older man clears his throat; it was just dry all of a sudden. Hopefully, the kid didn’t catch him staring too much. "Three passwords is a bit much, don't ya think?" He utters weakly.

Damian shrugs before straightening up, and Jason catches himself staring harder, to the point of his eyes crossing. He shuts his eyes for a moment and opts for making a show of rubbing his forehead as if he was exasperated by the nuisance.

“Alright, well, I should probably be put in the system again. Gotta catch up on what I missed and all that.” Jason waves his hand as he opens his eyes.

Damian hums thoughtfully. “That will not be difficult. However, I’m not sure if father has granted permission to give you access.”

The older man chokes out a laugh, “Oh Babybat, I get access one way or another. I only get locked out when shit like this happens. And last I remember you’re not one to ask for daddy’s permission on a lot of things.”

The younger man's eyes narrow while his lips morph into a frown.“I am not," he answers, "I-It’s a compromise for allowing me to patrol by myself. Besides, why should I believe that you’re allowed in the system?”

Jason grins. This wouldn't be the demon spawn if he didn't give any push back. “The replacement can vouch for that. And I got some downtime so if you really need to ask Bruce for the go ahead, I can stay here in the meantime and catch up with what I really need.”

“That will not be necessary, Father is predisposed at the moment. Getting any sort of response from him will not come till much later tonight, most likely a few minutes before he arrives back here,” Jason opens his mouth to say that wasn’t really a problem but Damian continues, “I have a meeting with a colleague in an hour. Thus leaving you here in the manor by yourself is not a wise choice. I can give you the files that you need -that is if you have a USB drive on you.”

Jason can’t help but feel a bit offended from that.

“Okay first,” Jason points a finger at the kid, “I can very much well click and drag files onto a thumb-drive just fine. Second, I’m pretty sure I can handle myself if I were alone. I’ve been managing that for the past few years now thank you very much. Third, wouldn’t Alfred be here anyway?”

Damian snorts and allows himself to lean on the control panel. And by God, if Jason doesn't feel his face heat up even more as he tries to maintain eye contact. “Getting the files is a bit more convoluted than that, Todd. Pennyworth has the day off. And I was very much alluding to this incident.” He reaches down to press a button -just one, Jason notices- without looking away before the screen flickers to the start of a video.

Jason looks up and realizes just what incident he was talking about once the sound echoes through the cave.

A much younger Jason balanced on the banister of the staircase, on the second floor, dressed in the Robin uniform, green panties, and pixie boots and all, while reading a few lines from Peter Pan out loud as he walks from one end to the other.

“I thought I deleted this.”

Damian tuts, “You know very well that my father had installed a program to reverse any erasures. He may be aware of this or he may not, but I am not the only one that knows of this video’s existence.”

Was he-? Holy fuck the kid was smirking. He definitely had this on retainer.

Jason glares at him.

Damian pauses the video and presses another button which causes a red circle to appear on the screen. “Cain mentioned that you start to get pretty confident with yourself here.” Damian presses play again and then pauses it at another point in the video. “She also said that this was where your balance starts to go off, and I’m inclined to agree."

“Who else-“

“-Brown commented that you get a little pitchy here.”

The video continues to play out and then Jason watches his younger self start to fall and struggle for the grappling hook on his belt and shoot it at the other end of the room.

“Drake stated that you should have been able to get to it quicker,” Jason continues watching, remembering the feeling of relief when he landed…until the chandelier fell with the loudest crash he’d ever heard in his life behind him, and now he is reliving that moment as the chandelier drops and breaks on the screen.

“And Alfred said that you had a difficult time cleaning up the thousands of pieces even when he got back home,” Damian pauses and then raises an eyebrow at him, "Really, Todd, a broom?"

“I couldn’t find the vacuum,” Jason growls out, feeling his face heat up even more now, but this time with begrudging embarrassment. He can’t even remember the last time he was this mortified and it was the kid -out of all people- that was teasing the hell out of him.

Damian seems to accept that answer for what it was and lets it go while still smirking that goddamn smirk.

And this is where Jason isn’t sure if he is angry, embarrassed or ...turned on? All three maybe? But he knows for sure that he was confused as hell at the turned on part no matter how small it may be. He’s gotta process this somewhat. And it’s a bit difficult to when the damned kid was standing right there.

Without another word, Jason turns and stalks towards his bike, resisting the urge to run to it.

“I didn’t take you for one to run away, Todd,” Damian calls out to him.

Jason shakes his head as he straddles his bike and flips the kid off before he starts it and heads back to his apartment.

xXx

It’s early in the morning and Jason finds himself laying on the rooftop of his apartment staring up at the starless sky, having smoked through one full pack of cigarettes and working his way through a second. He’s been done with patrol for over an hour now, so both the helmet and mask were off to the side...somewhere.

He closes his eyes as he takes an extra long drag of the lit cigarette held between his fingers. When he opens his eyes, there’s Robin standing over him with a frown.

“I find it hard to believe that you still smoke, Todd.”

Jason rolls his eyes hard as he takes another drag, “Oh look, Boy Wonder has come to save me from the perils of smoking."

Damian shakes his head before he holds out a fist over Jason and drops something onto the older man’s torso. Jason takes a hold of it in his other hand and brings it up to his field of vision.

A thumb-drive.

“The hell is this for?”

“You left before I could give you the files.”

“How do you know what files I needed?”

Damian sighs, “You are merely predictable when you need to be, Todd.”

“I’m hurt,” Jason mocks, throwing his hand over his chest and contorts his face into a pained expression. He half expects for Damian to just leave then and there, but is surprised when the kid opts to sit next to him. Jason turns his head to look at the kid and muses that he looks a lot smaller from this angle, almost like his eleven-year-old self with that scowl on his face.

"Father gave the go-ahead," the kid's scowl deepens when Jason blows another cloud of smoke up into the air, "for your access to the database."

The older man grins, “Told ya.”

There was a brief pause where Jason just continues to stare up at the sky peacefully. He can feel the kid’s eyes study him in a curious manner, no weight to it. He had to admit, it was nice. Typically when a bat clan member looked at him there was the usual range of emotions behind the gazes. With Dick, there was worry along with his need to use touch as comfort, often with a tentative hand that locked onto Jason’s shoulder. Most of the time it was heavy. Babs looked at him with a stoic expression but with the occasional fleeting recognition whenever he said something witty enough for her. To her, the rough around the edges but hopeful youth that he used to be was long gone, and in his place an almost stranger. Tim had just this hint of pity behind his mask of smiles. After forming a civil relationship that bloomed into this comfortable companionship, Jason had figured out that whatever Tim had researched on the older man would always be in the back of his mind.

And then there was Bruce. The head honcho. While Jason could say that their relationship was significantly better, he still couldn’t be around his old mentor for no more than an hour at most. There was only so much Jason could take from the disappointment behind that gaze. After those years when he was a teenager and the glinting amusement that Bruce looked at him with, he just could not stand the feeling of failure digging into and burrowing under his skin where it just spread throughout his body like an itching rash, getting worse with every minute till he felt like he could start to hyperventilate.

But then here was the son. At first, it was all just anger. Man, the kid was a tight ball of fury that tried to get at anyone that moved near him. Yeah sure it was annoying when it was aimlessly directed at anyone, but the intensity. He was actually impressed with how much the kid’s anger fueled him to do just about anything. And Jason had tested it with his goading, just to see how long Damian would last and just how far he was willing to go. Jason knew that feeling. He was familiar with it after he had crawled out of the grandfather’s pit. It was the only emotion he could latch onto that could keep him grounded. So he understood Damian’s confusion fueled rage. But now, even before Jason had left for a year, Damian’s looks had evolved into a feigned indifference, all just with the intent to study Jason more. If Jason were to pick anyone out of the bat clan, Damian was the least volatile on his psyche.

He feels Damian shift beside him for a moment before the kid sighed. “It would be a lot easier for me to give you access to the database if you let me into your apartment, Todd.”

“You could always just go in through the window.”

“That would be rude of me.”

And this is where Jason slowly turns his head so he can slow blink at the whites of Robin’s mask. They stay like that for a moment, neither of them moving. The older man waits, just wants to see if Damian knew how ridiculous that statement was coming from him of all people. But it never comes, just the blank look on his face. Jason feels like laughing in disbelief but opts for throwing his half cigarette to the side before reaching up to rub his face to keep his mouth from opening up to let out the bubbling of a laugh that was forming in the back of his throat.

Jason resists the urge to groan, the way that every aging adult does when they have to get up, as he shuffles slowly to his feet. He contemplates asking Roy for a long needed body cracking as he glances down at the kid, who was still sitting there.

"Come on then," Jason simply says and starts walking towards the fire escape.

He hears shuffling behind him. "What about your helmet?"

"Eh, I'll come back for it later," Jason responds as he starts to climb down the three floors before his apartment.

xXx

The cool breeze billows around Jason as he takes a single sip from the mug that had been set in front of him about 20 minutes ago. He scans the street lazily, knowing that the passing bell for the university would ring any minute now. He's not too sure why he's waiting for the kid, there was no emergency to the situation, he just felt drawn to approach him on his downtime.

The melodic sound of the bell rang throughout the air and almost immediately, students pour out of the entrances. Jason makes no rush to get up immediately. With the amount of kids coming out, it would be a lot more trouble to look for Damian now than it would after the crowd thins out in the next 10 minutes. And true to that prediction, the courtyard of the school is nearly empty as if there was some sort of repellent for college goers, said for a few stragglers. One of them being baby Wayne.

"What's this?" Jason whispers into the lip of his mug when he sees a redheaded woman jog her way to Damian's side. It doesn't take a lot for anyone to see the attraction to the kid. The lack of space between their arms, her big ass smile followed with one dimple in one cheek, and the admiring eyes had trained on him.

Jason couldn't help but think of Dick and Babs. But where Dick and Babs would be easy and open in public, Damian and this girl were...stunted... in a sense. The kid didn't have the puppy love-struck expression of a young adult, instead, he just looked charming. It was eerily similar to the charm Bruce used to work over the ladies at a charity event or something.

He gets up and crosses the street with his eyes still trained on the pair. He'll be honest with himself, it's something he can't really take his eyes off. Like he was watching a car crash. As he gets closer, he starts to hear a bit of their conversation.

"-this weekend?"

Damian pauses, looking thoughtful, then pulls out his phone, tapping the screen a few times. With his head lowered, the few strands of hair not held up by gel fall to his forehead, giving him a much more casual look. However, it's all disrupted when he runs a hand through his hair and looks back to her. Jason would have laughed at the audible hitch of breath from the girl if he wasn't distracted from the same action. "I have a few projects due next week, and then I have to help prepare for the hospital auction on Sunday."

She pouts, "Oh, that wouldn't happen to be the children's hospital, would it?"

"Yes," Damian ponders for a moment, "I believe your mother is on the guest list."

Jason catches her eyes and a bright tinge of pink stains her cheeks as she takes a small step away from Damian. The hellspawn doesn't even acknowledge Jason's presence and continues talking.

"If you attend, I could save you a dance." By god, he sounds sincerely earnest.

"I-I'll try to make it then...then," she blushes even harder, glancing back at Jason, "Bye, Damian." And then she hustles away.

It's almost scary when Damian's face drops into his natural faint scowl, directing it at Jason once she was out of sight

"You could have stayed away for a few minutes longer."

"Wanted to make out with your little girlfriend?" Jason teases, sidling over.

Damian scoffs, waving his hand flippantly, "Her mother is simple-minded. She donates more when she is in a good mood, and Leah attending is a major contributor. It's purely business."

Jason nods thoughtfully. That seems more on Damian's realm of doing things. There was always a motive. It was only natural that the kid would use the all good Wayne charm as another tool.

"So," Damian straightens, "what do you need, Todd?"

The older man mockingly places a hand over his heart, "Hurt, so very much hurt. Can't I just come see my younger bro without needing something?" He fakes wiping a tear from his cheek.

Damian rolls his eyes, "I'm hardly that,” then starts walking to exit the campus, but this time it's Jason that walks beside him.

"Okay let me correct you there. Your dad took me in so I grew up in that manor just the same as you, was fed by the same butler as you and if I had to draw a venn diagram of people we would consider family, " he gave a little air quote motion, "almost all of those people would be in the center."

"That is a very loose yet specific definition for brother."

Jason shrugs, "Yeah but that comes with the job. Anyways, yes you were right I do need something from you."

"What is it?"

"I need you to come work a case with me."

Damian raises an inquisitive brow at Jason, and that's not a good thing right now for the older man. "You could have sent a text or opt to shine an R up in the sky."

"True, but--Did you just make a joke?" And Jason is damned when the kid gave him a wry smirk that made him stumble in his boots. That was an interesting image in his head. Normally, Jason wouldn't think much of it if the kid were in the Robin gear, but out of the mask and with those bright baby blues and in civvies no less. The older man clears his throat and tries to alleviate some of the pressure in his pants inconspicuously as they stopped at the sidewalk. At this point, Jason has accepted that there is somewhat of an attraction to the kid. After that encounter in the Batcave, and furiously rubbing one out one, two, multiple times, it would be hard to deny it.

Jason coughs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, "Anyways, yeah, it seems like you've taken up my section of the city while I was out, so it'd only make sense to ask you, ya know?"

The kid nods after a moment. "Tonight. I can meet you at one of your safe houses and you can debrief me on what you have in mind."

And just then a car rolls up and comes to a stop in front of them. Damian opens the door without missing a beat and slides into the passenger seat, revealing a familiar face in the driver's side.

Jason grins and gives a two finger salute, "Hey Alfred."

The old man gives Jason a fond smile, "Master Jason. I trust your trip went well?"

"Very."

"I will send you a message," Damian states, leaning over to grab onto the door handle and looking up at Jason through his thick lashes.

Jason's throat goes dry. He's almost sure that he's staring way too hard at the kid, whom to his credit doesn't flinch from it. So all Jason can manage is a quick nod. Then the door closes and watches the car drive and turn around a corner before he realizes that he wasn't breathing.

[alpacannot]

So, I’m finally getting around to rewriting my Reaper Saga books, with the newly renamed “Reaper”. The past, like, four times I’ve tried to rewrite this book, I’ve always stuck with the same general opening chapter, introducing Tris, her work, and the other characters fairly quickly, allowing them to talk about themselves. This time, I’ve tried for a slightly different approach, which I like more. It took me forever to write it though, partly because I’m rusty (I haven’t written anything fiction related since 2016) and partly because I just wanted to skip to the good stuff. It was tempting to just copy in the original prologue, but I’m super pleased with how this new first chapter is starting. It’s not done, and I haven’t proofed it yet, but I was so excited that I just had to share it. So, without further ado, here’s the first, unedited bit of “Reaper” chapter 1:

“Tristan Sieghard—for crimes against humanity and for exposing the Afterlife, we, the Highers and the Gatekeeper, sentence you to death and eternal damnation in the deepest pits of Hell.” The Highest’s voice echoed throughout the assembly hall as several Runners drug her away from the crowd gathered inside the seemingly far-too-small room. Alex avoided her gaze, his brows pinching together. She wanted to shout out, “You could have stopped this!”, but she knew that she had chosen this. It was her neglect that ultimately caused her downfall. But, at least she was brave enough to act, to seek out justice for their daughter. He was by far the worse parent, choosing to do nothing.

******

I awoke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright and drenched in sweat. The same nightmare haunted me, the screeching of tires across asphalt ringing in my ears. My throat was raw from screaming. Glancing to my right, three blinking red numbers drilled into my eyes—4:27 a.m. “Fantastic,” I muttered, dragging myself out of bed and untangling the mess of slightly damp covers from around my legs. My mouth was dry, and my tongue felt like lead. Scrubbing the sleep from my eyes, I forced myself into the shower, letting the scalding water beat against my back. No pain was enough to drag me into reality though. I sat there, dead to the world, until the water ran cold, after which I pushed myself up and out.

I coiled my curls on top of my head, giving up on looking presentable. The dark bags under my eyes said what my mouth couldn’t: I wasn’t well. I grimaced at my reflection, at my body’s betrayal. Stumbling towards my closet, my numb fingers clutched at my work clothes: black and white and garish red. I looked like a corpse every day, which was ironic considering I spent every working hour turning other people into corpses. As I fumbled with the buttons, I tried once again to desperately return to reality, but the memories clouded my eyes, refusing to let me escape.

Realizing that the day was already a loss but determined to earn my keep in some way, I gradually made my way to the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee, and left my apartment. Locking my door presented everlasting problems for my still unresponsive hands, but I eventually managed to secure my door. Stopping to collect myself once more, I reveled in the silence of the hall. Still, my peace was short lived as the muffled sounds of music rang out from the adjacent apartment. I longed for the effortlessness with which PJ lived his carefree life. I knew that it hadn’t come easy to him—after all, he hadn’t always been this unburdened. He, too, had had his fair share of trauma and regrets. It seemed like everyone here did.

Trudging down the endless, blank hallways, I finally arrived at the front of my department. The room was virtually empty, save the night security guard, who was unsurprised to see me. He barely glanced up from his book, nodded in my direction, and continued reading. It wasn’t unusual for me to be in the office during the wee hours of the morning. The first few days, he was suspicious, but as the days turned into weeks, he stopped commenting on my odd hours. Always the first to arrive and the last to leave—not because I was an overachiever, but because work was safe. When I went home, my mind was cut lose, free to torment me.

I flicked on the lights, illuminating the long stretch of cubicles. Even during normal working hours, the desks were usually devoid of people—overflowing with paperwork, but not a single living soul in sight. I ruffled through the stack of reports on my desk, mostly reference files that had yet to be signed off and returned to the Keepers. Grabbing my pen, I began to furiously sign any remaining legal work, tucking the death certificates in the back of their respective manilla folders. Neatly stacking the completed files in the outgoing basket on my desk, I rang for a Runner and sat back as I waited for their arrival. As expected, they were waiting in front of my desk in a matter of seconds.

“Two Pink Card files today. The rest are all Blue Card.” The Runner nodded and whisked away the folders, disappearing from view in a flurry of fabric and papers. I ran a hand through the tangle of still-damp curls that had slowly begun their escape from the knot on the top of my head. Now what am I going to do? The new files won’t come in for another hour at least, I thought. As if on cue, Alex came striding through the glass doors.

“Another early day?” he asked, as if this wasn’t a common occurrence.

“Of course. Just like every other day.” With an unusual grace for someone so large, he sat on my now empty desk, folding his long legs. He took up the whole space, making my already cramped office even tinier. I had never felt more miniscule. His long, thin fingers tapped rhythmically on his biceps, drawing attention to the muscles there. If I didn’t know him better, I would have thought he was trying to intimidate me.

“What about you? What are you doing here so early, Alex?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You know, the usual. Pink Card Keepers never rest.”

I choked back a laugh, but it sounded like a strangled animal. “Are you kidding? Pink Cards only cover what Yellow and Blue Cards don’t, which has been like next to nothing these days.” His eyes tightened at the corners—I’d struck a nerve for sure. Just like that, he relaxed, returning to his usual joking self.

“Well, I was called in early this morning—two new Pink Card only files were brought in a few minutes ago. I wonder who could have sent them in?” I feigned innocence, but I felt bad for waking him up. I wasn’t sure why those files couldn’t wait until normal hours. I had just assumed that they’d wait on someone’s desk until everyone else clocked in.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t know they would wake you up for them—they’ve never done that before?”

“It’s fine. You know how anxious they are to get Pink Card work wrapped up, especially dangerous people like those two. The sooner the paperwork is done, the sooner HR can get them in Hell and away from all the innocent souls.” He paused, waiting for me to react, but my numb brain wasn’t truly processing anything. “Well, I better get to work then. Those files aren’t going to seal themselves.” With that, he turned to leave. At the double doors, he stopped, looked back, and winked at me before continuing on his way.

Hours later, other Reapers started filing in. Today’s files were brought by the Runners, although I’d barely noticed them. Honestly, the Runners were like phantoms—there one minute and gone the next. Opening the first packet, I skimmed over the list of humans I would be Reaping today: Bethany Jones—Blue Card, Amanda Howard—Blue Card, Lydia Ramirez—Yellow Card. The list went on and on. No one in particular stood out to me, and I grimaced—today’s Reaping wouldn’t take me but a few hours. I would be home alone with my thoughts for a majority of the work day.

PJ strode in, interrupting my stream of melancholy thoughts. His curly hair was slightly disheveled, a lazy smile on his face. “Whatcha’ think about today’s Reapings?” he asked.

PJ was in charge of assembling the list of Reapings and preparing the proper paperwork—as long as the files were within his level of clearance. PJ was relatively new to this work still, stagnating at Blue Card Keeper since graduation. Together with Chris, my designated Yellow Card Keeper, and Alex, PJ was my behind-the-scenes crew. On the off chance that I worked extended assignments on Earth, he got to read my reports and add them to that person’s file, but I hadn’t worked an extended assignment in years. In fact, I wasn’t sure PJ ever saw the other’s when prepping my work. During extended assignments, he would work closely with Chris, but I wasn’t sure the two had ever actually met before. In fact, I hardly ever saw Chris.

PJ snapped his fingers at me, drawing me from my internal monologue. “Are you listening? I asked what you thought about today’s Reapings.” I shook my head, forcing myself to focus.

“I’m a little bummed out actually. I don’t see anything that will keep me working for very long today, so I’ll be going home early. Which I know sounds great to you considering you’ll be here late working on the files because almost all of them are Blue Card, but it’s a real downer for me,” I explained when I saw him opening his mouth to protest. He grinned at me.

“You owe me. Dinner tonight. Your place. I want to talk to you about this new guy I met the other day!”

“If it’s a new love interest, I’d love to hear about it, although I’m a little miffed about cooking. However, since it’s a short day for me, I suppose I can make dinner tonight. Now get out of here—I have work to do, and so do you.” I playfully swatted at him. PJ always brought out the best in me and made it easier for me to shake off my early morning melancholy.

“See you tonight!” he called out as he all but skipped through the doors.

[novantinuum]

Tag Game

Thank you @crossroadsdimension​ for the tag!!

Rules: Answer seventeen questions and tag some blogs

_

Nickname: Jen is technically a nickname, uh... People still refer to me as “Chromatic,” ala my last tumblr screenname + my name elsewhere. I have a friend who lovingly calls me Jenny. Don’t have much else, really.

Starsign: Aquarius

Height: 5′ 5′’

Last film I watched: Hmmm, last movie. Um... The Emperor’s New Groove with friends.

Favourite musician: I really dig Marina and the Diamonds, La Roux, Big Big Train, and Coldplay.

Song stuck in my head: It’s either gonna be “OUR HOUSE... IN THE MIDDLE OF- OUR HOUSE” or some variety of songs from Steven Universe. Half the time when it’s a SU song it’s one of my original fan songs I’ve written.

Other blogs: Oh, way too many. I’ll give the rundown of my currently active ones.

@crack-the-paragon is my fic sideblog where I ramble about stuff pertaining to that SU AU I have. (This time I’m actually writing it, too lmao, not just fantasizing about it.)

I mod @magic-luz, a URL I bagged the very day The Owl House was announced. It’s gonna be more active once the show actually comes out, ahahah. For whatever reason it already has like, 1K followers, so I think I’ll be using it to boost people’s art and gifs when the show airs.

@gem-rewatch is on hiatus rn because I have so much else going on, but whenever other things calm down I’m sure I’ll come back to it- it’s just me yelling about SU meta on an episode-by-episode basis. Currently up to Steven’s Lion, so not too far in.

@chromatic-art is my art-only sideblog. I just reblog stuff here, that’s it.

@jen-liveblogs is my brand spankin’ new liveblog place, where I’m currently liveblogging Transformers Prime. I’ll prob use it for other things later too. 

I have six other blogs besides these. I need to be stopped.

Do I get ask? Sometimes. Not as often now that I’m mostly yelling about Steven Universe, though. To be fair, most of y’all followed me for Gravity Falls, though, so... XD

Blogs following: 280.

What am I wearing: Cuffed light-wash jeans and an old cozy Greek life t-shirt.

Dream job: Forensic science. Specifically, I wanna work with DNA analysis.

Dream trip: Friendship road trip! I wanna hug all my egg friends. All the way across country, and then I’d book a flight to the UK, and I’d book a flight to Australia. 

Play any instruments? I can figure out piano by ear pretty quickly given some time, but I’m not classically trained in any instrument, no. I’m ehhh at reading sheet music. But I sing, so. My vocal cords are my instrument, really.

Languages: English and some smattering of Japanese. I’m super rusty, though. It’s been three years.

Favorite food: I dig chicken, and pickles, and olives. Also rice. Rice is rad.

Favorite song: Oh heck-! Uh... I can’t pick a CONCLUSIVE favorite, but I can give a list of ones that are favorites! At this current moment in time, songs that are really speaking to me are:

Drops of Jupiter by Train,

My Silver Lining, by First Aid Kit

Are You Satisfied? by Marina and the Diamonds

Victorious, by Panic! At the Disco

Reflections Are Protection, by La Roux

Shiver, by Coldplay

Atlas, by Coldplay

It’s Over, Isn’t It? by Deedee Magno Hall

Ode to My Next Life, by Kishi Bashi

Random facts: I was actually originally supposed to be a twin, but kinda... absorbed them in the womb? ALPHA TWIN! ALPHA TWIN! I did it- I won. XD

Tagging: @inktheblot, @the-ill-doctor, @fexiled, @endae, @nour386, @picnokinesis if y’all wanna