#made it a bit in July. remembered it and now whoops. ideas.

[sombrerokiwi]

Democracy will decide.

[cutecatdoodles]

You have such a wide assortment of cute little characters. So I've been wondering, do you have a process for creating them? And if so what's that process roughly look like? For instance, do you think up a character you need/want first and then design them? Or do you draw out several designs, pick your favorite and assign them a personality?

You know, I actually don't have just one process! There's several ways for me to create an OC:

"I need someone here." I identify something I need (a town NPC, a stage enemy, someone's dad, whatever) and brainstorm a concept, complete with design. The design can later be refined and adjusted as I pin down what I want, with the personality often based on the vibes I get from the initial design sketch. Not all of these get used, and many of the used ones never reach OC status. Examples: Peep, Scarlet Tanaflare, Ark, Bicky Bear

"Speed design, go!" I need a character ASAP due to time pressure. My only idea going in is stuff like "a robot", "a roadblock", or "a protagonist I can draw easily enough to make a full game in 2 days", so I don't have time to refine it and go with the first pass. Somehow, these end up being popular. Examples: Roboki, Button Bit, Penny Panda, Pipistrelle

"You see a goblin." I put a throwaway NPC into an RP or story, but then that NPC keeps appearing or getting expanded and whoops they're an OC now, so I have to design them after the fact (unless it's a visual medium). This even happened with Udon's canonically dead parents to the point I wrote fanfiction for them. Examples: Pipsqueak, Squire, Udon's parents, Julie

"Lemme check the archives." I draw a random design with no intent to ever use it for anything, or for a purpose that didn't work out. It's only later that I remember the design, repurposing it for something I need after-the-fact. Examples: Kitty Seal, Toxic Zone, Starabbit, Wami

"Inspired by true events." The character's directly or loosely based on something that already exists, so I'm doing my own take on a pre-existing concept with a new personality. It can be a canon character, redesigning a character I was gifted, or even a redesign of my own OC! Examples: Tricky, Blend, Cryoza, Flamespin Wallaroo

"I put effort into this one!" Actually putting proper thoughts into a design. For example, when designing Mio, I wanted a classic animal mascot protagonist with a fat, huggable shape so she'd make a good plushie, who was also easy for children to draw, and who had some kind of accessory or clothing that wasn't generically girly. For these characters I take into account how easily visible their movements are, if their colors show easily, and so on. Even if they're far along, their design will be adjusted if something isn't working right and some have gotten complete overhauls multiple times. Examples: Mio, Silk/Dusty, Zev, Izzy

"I'm not even sure." Methods that don't fit into any of the above, like "I just REALLY wanted an OC of this type", "I can't sleep so I'm designing a protagonist out of spite", and "if I made a contest entry what would it act like?" Examples: Tennis & Fitz, Zicel, Shockwave Jerbolan, Kachin

I guess if it proves anything, it's that there is no specific best way for making an OC, haha.

[hunterofthehunters]

14) Resident Evil 3 (PS1)

playing this on a vita may not have been the wisest decision (also on pre-4th of july time with family and relatives, but it's fine)

okay so. how to summarize my feelings here...

full disclosure: i played this on hard mode, and also as i said before on a vita. i did not learn until near the end there was a manual aim because it was physically not bound to any button. as such i had to make those adjustments myself very late. so yeah.

this game's really good and i can immediately see why people remembered it so fondly. but at the same time i'm very. mixed on my opinions.

i think the general presentation of it is great. the story's simple enough with a good premise and good execution. i like jill in it, i like carlos, nikolai is a bastard. but we're not here for those other two. we're here for the Big Boy

nemesis is very fucking effective in this game. like, actually a sincerely terrifying hunter enemy. but he isn't effective bc of his a.i. or his moveset in fights or anything. re3 does this very clever thing where it spawns him in specific ways, at specific times, with specific framing that gives off the impression he is constantly on your ass. they didn't have the ability to program a persistent enemy that actually chases you across the map. it's just a trick; a cleverly hidden illusion, and a great example of how games are very much bullshit that tricks you into believing certain things are happening in a certain way. it's a reminder of how similar to theatre they are imo and i like it a lot.

what i like less is when the game expects you to actually deal with nemesis instead of run

okay so. tank controls aren't inherently bad. they can even be really cool and fun, and they're why i think games like armored core fuck immensely

i don't feel like re's tank controls fall under that category. the number of times i got into bad situations, not because i made a fundamental error in judgement, but because the controls themselves were fighting against me, was actually very frustrating. these things are really just minor grievances when dealing with normal enemies (hell even the hunters were easy in this, but that was bc carlos had an assault rifle).

these minor issues become Really Fuckin Big Ones when nemesis decides to stop being a chase sequence and become an actual boss battle. the tank controls are designed for very slow, methodical gameplay. nemesis meanwhile is moving like you're playing an action game where you have a consistent dodge to avoid getting combo'd for half your health in a single sudden hit.

"oh well you can just get used to the weird dodge and get good" yeah i did. i'm posting this now, aren't i? the problem is the process was kinda grating. i don't feel like his moveset was really considered alongside the gameplay. he moves so quickly, so aggressively, and he has so many ways to disrupt your ability to fight him and make you mash to get up and Whoops He's Instakilled You Off A OTG Command Throw, Better Reload

i swear i don't hate nemesis in this. i like him a lot. i think i just feel a little let-down because i was expecting some masterpiece of design like people kept hyping him up as vs the remake. instead i'm seeing a flawed but cool idea that was let down by faulty boss design.

maybe that was the problem with the remake. people wanted to see it fulfill that promise.

either way, this whole rant is a minor gripe. these fights only happen like 3 times and the latter two can be beaten through the power of Let The Idiot Walk Into The Trap. which is fine i guess and fits the tank controls better. (i'll admit seeing him fall apart over time and grow more frenzied and blinded in the acid valves fight was a very cool bit. why didn't you do that, remake.)

re3 ps1 is a great game. i liked it a lot. i just wish i would've loved it.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 1 - Ribbit

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, THE meetcute of meetcutes. 2.1k

Edit: thank you so much @trevor-wilson-covington for the pretty edit!! I'm in love with it!

Alex drummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat in the van. The drive from Los Angeles to Vegas was just short of four hours, but it had been an early morning and it was going to be a long day. He was feeling the carsickness sit just under the threshold of dangerous and rolled down the window.

“Whoo! Twenty miles boys!” Luke called out as they passed a sign on the freeway, clapping Bobby on the shoulder from behind.

“Woohoo!” Bobby responded in excitement.

“Think you’re gonna make it, buddy?” Reggie looked over at Alex. Alex turned only a fraction of the way toward his friend and gave a half-hearted nod.

“Hey man, let us know if we gotta pull over,” Luke said.

He simply nodded. Next time he wasn’t going to sit in the back.

The other three were jamming to whatever Luke was riffing on his guitar. Bobby thankfully drove at a slower pace as they approached the final stretch toward their destination. The ache in his stomach didn’t get better, but it also didn’t get worse so he was banking on it calming down once they stopped.

“Hey, guys, we wanna stop somewhere and get breakfast first?” Bobby called out to the rest of them.

“Oh yeah!” Reggie said. “I think I could go for some pancakes.”

“Oh, pancakes sound real good right now.” Luke echoed.

“Alex?” Bobby peeked into the rearview mirror at him.

Looking up from the view outside, he just shrugged. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t sure he could handle food no matter what it was.

Eventually they pulled off the freeway and kept their eyes peeled for an open restaurant.

“I see pancakes!” Reggie cried, pointing at his target.

“They’ve got an arcade next door, I second that vote!” Bobby said.

As they parked and clambered out of the van, the boys stretched and shook their limbs. They entered the diner and found a booth, practically collapsing together on the table. Alex placed his face in his hands and tried taking in deep breaths to calm his stomach. A sudden voice was heard beside the table.

“Good morning starshines, the earth says hello! How are we doing today?” Sounded like a waiter. Alex felt rude, but didn’t bother to look up. He felt Luke nudge a menu under his elbow.

“Oh, we’re hungry!” Reggie responded.

“Awesome, guys,” the waiter said. “Anything I can get started for you?”

“We’ll go with water,” Luke spoke for everyone at the table. “And, sorry about him, he’s not feeling good.” Alex assumed this was about him and sighed.

“Okay, so water for everybody? Alright, I’ll just grab those for you while you prepare your orders.”

As the waiter left, Luke tapped Alex’s shoulder.

“How you doin’, Alex?”

“Not blowing chunks, I guess,” he groaned.

“Hey, guys,” Bobby started saying. “How about we pick what we wanna eat, and then I want to check out the arcade while we wait for our food.”

“That’s a good idea,” Reggie said, perking up. “I hope they have Galaga.”

“I’m down,” Luke said. “Alex, you wanna wait here for us? You can give the guy our orders and then just chill.”

“Maybe that stomach will settle down,” Reggie added.

Alex lowered his hands and rested them on the table.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I need the space anyway. Thanks.”

“Cool,” Luke hopped up from his seat. “Uh, I’ll just do the buttermilk pancakes.”

“Make that two buttermilk pancakes!” Reggie said, holding up his fingers.

“Eggs and sausage,” Bobby told him. “And buttermilk pancakes.” He patted Alex on the back as the three of them ventured next door.

At least they were easy to remember. Alex looked around the restaurant as he kept breathing in and out slowly. He was the only person there. That was surprising for a diner just outside of Vegas around ten in the morning. He didn’t mind the quiet, though. Having all this space to himself was already helping him feel better.

A guy with long dark hair approached him with a tray carrying glasses of water. Alex gulped as he watched, his breath catching in his throat. He took in the tie-dye shirt, the ripped jeans, and puka shell necklace and guessed he was probably from California as well.

“Whoa, where’d they all go?” the waiter asked, smiling a little in confusion.

Alex blinked.

“They, uh, they went to the arcade,” he managed to get out. He couldn’t help it, this guy had a nice smile.

“Ah,” the guy raised his eyebrows and began placing the water on the table. “And they left you behind? That sucks.”

“I’m okay,” Alex said. “We’ve just been on the road for a bit and I got kinda carsick, so I needed some space anyway.”

“I’m sorry, man,” the waiter said. “Did they decide what to eat before they bailed?”

“Uh, yeah,” Alex shifted to face him better. “They all want buttermilk pancakes and then one guy also wants eggs and sausage.”

“Three buttermilks…” the guy muttered as he wrote them down. “Eggs and sausage. And do you know what you want?”

He looked directly into Alex’s eyes as he rested the tray under his arm and it took everything Alex had not to melt right there. Don’t look at his lips, he thought. He was pretty sure his eyes had betrayed him but he forced his gaze downward as a cover.

“I’m sorry,” he said, flustered. “I actually forgot to look at the menu.”

“Right, ‘cuz you were carsick, sorry” the waiter chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Alex bit his tongue.

“I should probably get some food still,” he managed to say. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“Right on. I could recommend some toast - that’s always easy on the stomach. That comes with eggs, and I could add in some banana for you.”

“That actually sounds great,” Alex told him. “I’ll just do that, then.”

The waiter smiled and bit his lip.

“‘Kay!” He lifted the tray from under his arm and headed back toward the kitchen, doing a little skip before disappearing inside.

Alex felt his hands shaking and he sat on them for a minute. Looking around the empty diner, a thought occurred that somehow with just him and the waiter it had seemed full. The strange feeling crept all over him, like a new exhilarating energy, and he moved his hands back up. The waiter popped back out of the kitchen and came back toward Alex in a cavalier fashion.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked. “I don’t exactly have other people to help and I feel bad leaving you all by yourself in here.”

“Make yourself at home,” Alex said, gesturing to the seat across from him. Make yourself at home? What is that? he berated himself.

The guy extended a hand for him to shake. “I’m Willie, by the way.”

“Alex.” As he took it, Alex returned the firm grip he received and they both chuckled a bit at noticing each other’s strength. Willie sat down and immediately grabbed a napkin from the dispenser.

“So you said you and your friends have a long day ahead of you?” he asked.

“Oh right,” Alex couldn’t believe he had forgotten about the guys for a minute. “We’re a band, so we’ve got a gig opening for Julie Molina tonight.”

“Wicked,” Willie smiled and nodded, folding the napkin into something Alex wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be. “Who’s Julie Molina?”

“Oh, she’s just a good solo artist - does a little bit of everything. My buddy Luke is really into her.”

Willie nodded some more, continuing to fold the napkin.

“And who are you guys?”

“We’re Sunset Curve,” Alex said. “I’m the drummer.”

“Right on! You guys just becoming a thing?” Willie raised his eyebrows.

“I mean, I guess so,” Alex hadn’t exactly thought about it. “Opening for Julie is a big step for us.”

He watched Willie’s hands work until he finished. It turned out to be an origami frog.

“Ribbit,” Willie said, pressing on the top to make it look like it was moving. The napkin material didn’t exactly lend to bouncing up and down, which made them both giggle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be distracting.”

“I don’t mind,” Alex said. “It’s entertaining.”

He realized how widely he was smiling and laughed to himself.

“What about you?” he asked.

Willie straightened his posture and ran a hand through his hair again. He flailed his arms and blew out his cheeks before holding one arm with the other and leaning on the table.

“Making it on my own for now. I just do whatever feels good, you know? Make a few bucks, get out and enjoy what I find. Don’t need a whole lot to be happy.”

Wow, Alex wanted that kind of chill. He picked up the origami frog.

“What do you do when you’re not here? Besides these, of course.”

Willie shrugged.

“Skate. Be free.” He smiled, but sighed heavily. Alex saw a distant look in his eyes, but knew now wasn’t a time to address it. “I see Vegas in all its glory. You should see the lights at night.”

“Won’t I see them tonight?”

Willie shook his head.

“Not the right way,” he told him. “Not at the right angle. I would show you, but you’ve got your gig and everything.”

Alex opened his mouth to reply, but a head stuck out of the kitchen door. A man with dark hair and chiseled features looked at Willie and all he did was glare authoritatively.

“I’m - coming,” Willie stammered, rising from his seat.

Alex realized his mouth was still open and he shut it, unhappily swallowing what he’d wanted to say.

“That was my boss,” Willie said, already in a hurry. “I’m sorry, I’ll be back when your food’s ready.” He rushed off and the diner felt empty and cold again.

As if on cue, Luke, Bobby and Reggie burst back through the door. Luke and Reggie were celebrating while Bobby seemed a little less enthusiastic.

“Dun-geon slay-er!” Reggie proclaimed in a mock deep voice. “Too bad we can’t stay longer and go for that tournament today; I would have whooped everyone.”

They all sat and immediately gulped down their waters. Bobby remained quiet.

“How was the arcade?” Alex asked.

“It was sweet,” Luke reported. “Bobby’s mad because Reggie mopped the floor with him.”

“The joystick wasn’t working right, it wasn’t a fair outcome,” Bobby defended.

“Oooohhh,” Reggie made a silly face and wiggled his fingers. “Bobby only loses when the game doesn’t work, ooohhh!”

Alex shook his head and laughed mildly. He only noticed then that his stomach had stopped bothering him completely. He hadn’t even felt it when he’d been talking with Willie. He finished his own water, and was happy not to feel anything as it went down. The origami frog was still on the table.

“Hey, Alex,” Reggie said, picking it up. “Did you make this?”

“Oh, no, Willie did,” he told him.

“Who’s Willie?” Luke asked.

Speak of the devil - the kitchen door opened and Willie came out carrying their plates.

“Alright, we got pancakes, pancakes, more pancakes,” he said, placing them where they belonged. He glanced at Alex quickly, but it was too quick to read. “Who had the eggs and sausage?”

“That was me,” Bobby said, raising his hand.

“Okay,” Willie passed it over to him. “And toast and eggs with a banana.” He smiled as he set it down before Alex. “And it looks like you all need more water, I’ll be right back!” He was gone too quickly again.

The change in his mood unsettled Alex, but maybe it was because Willie was working. As he saw Willie returning with the water pitcher he had an idea.

“Hey Luke,” he said. Luke turned to him expectantly as Willie silently poured water in their glasses.

“Where are we playing again?”

Luke looked confused. Willie was listening intently.

“The Pearl, why? How could you forget?”

“And what time do we play?”

“Eight o’ clock. You sure you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah. I was… I was just testing you, cuz sometimes you don’t remember.”

Luke looked around the table defensively.

Reggie shrugged. “He’s right. But you remembered this time!”

Alex felt bad about starting Luke in an argument as he listened to them continue, but he knew it would blow over quickly. He caught Willie looking back at him and nodding as he walked away. As he returned to his food, Bobby smirked at him and shook his head. Heat rose in his cheeks and he focused on his toast.

[burstingsunrise]

fourth of july (every song’s about you)

For some reason, the idea that Calum thinks about Luke at all is a small shock. He thinks about Calum a lot, probably too much. He thought he’d go off to college and meet all these amazing people, new romantic prospects that would sweep him off his feet and make Calum seem boring by comparison. But all that happened was Luke met a lot of people, and none of them were as perfectly imperfect as Calum.

words: 3609 tw: none

on ao3 here.

this particular fic is a glorified prompt from em @pixiegrl who was like "i have a fic request perhaps," which i of course encouraged, and then she said, "Fourth of July by FOB as an angst fic pick the ship."

so thank you to em for giving me something a little different to do that made me feel excited about writing again for the first time in a while! and the timing is just perfect for me to put it out for the fourth so...angsty slash fic to celebrate america's freedom, or whatever!

The air is heavy and humid, but Luke doesn’t mind. He likes the reassuring weight of it on his skin and the way it makes everything feel just a little bit more important. He could live without the mosquitos biting at his arms, but it’s a small price to pay for the indescribable mix of nostalgia and peace he’s feeling right now.

It was strange at first, showing up at Michael’s house and letting himself through the gate into the backyard, unnoticed for a few seconds as he watched people he hadn’t seen outside of a screen for at least four years acting like time hadn’t progressed at all since they were seniors in high school. Luke may as well have stepped into one of the photos deep in his camera roll, from Michael’s birthday junior year, or the party they had the night before high school graduation.

So many moments in this yard. So many memories.

They keep bubbling up in his mind, even an hour later as Luke’s sprawled on his back in a chaise lounge, swatting away mosquitos and watching Ashton attempting backflips in a patch of soft grass while the daylight gently fades. Ashton used to be able to land them on his feet easily, but after four years of being out of practice, he’s falling to his knees on most of his attempts. Luke remembers the first time he landed on his feet, and they all clapped and whooped for him as he threw his arms up and his head back and saluted like an Olympic gymnast.

It was the first day of school junior year. Calum had been sitting next to Luke that afternoon, maybe even on the same chaise lounge Luke’s sitting on now, and Luke’s cheeks heat remembering how alive he felt under Calum’s attention, all the awkward flirty touches and the smiling at each other with unfocused eyes. Ashton spent the entire summer practicing, and it seemed remarkable somehow that his first successful landing happened to fall on the first day of school, like some sort of sign that they were in for an amazing year.

And it had been an amazing year, but it hurts to think about now.

So Luke tries not to, focusing his energy on egging on Ashton, laughing along with his friends, and letting the warmth of the early July evening seep into his soul. There are many reasons they gravitated to Michael’s backyard in high school, but tonight they’re here because of the perfect view of the town’s fireworks.

It was Ashton’s idea, of course, a Fourth of July party at Michael’s to bring them all back together for a night after being separated for college; a chance to see each other at least one more time before they all headed out to pursue the Rest of Their Lives. What a terrifying concept. Luke’s happy to put that off and spend some time with old friends; to pretend for a bit longer that he’s not actually an adult with responsibilities to worry about.

“Cupcake?” A red-frosted cupcake appears in front of Luke’s face, attached to a pale hand with chipped black nail polish.

“Of course,” Luke replies, plucking the cupcake carefully out of Michael’s hand. Michael sits down on the edge of Luke's lounger, careful not to tip them sideways. He watches Luke carefully as he peels the paper off his cupcake. Luke glares at him. “What?”

“You know Calum is coming, right?” Michael says it casually, like he’s not sure whether Luke cares one way or the other and doesn’t want to offend him by implying he does.

Does he care? He’s not at all sure.

“I…thought it might be a possibility,” Luke says. The thought had certainly crossed his mind. It would only make sense for Calum to be there; Calum was one of them. Just because they had broken up didn’t mean Calum wasn’t still Ashton’s best friend and Michael’s oldest friend. “By now I figured he wasn’t coming though.”

And maybe he was a little disappointed about it. Not because he was still pining for Calum or something; he was just curious. Over these past few years he’d seen Calum on social media, read his annoyingly funny captions and cataloged the various iterations of his hairstyles and the lifespan of his graphic t-shirts, from crisp and new to soft and littered with holes around the neckline. But he’s still curious, wants to see how Calum acts, if he’s still the same quiet, laid-back, but secretly chaotic troublemaker Luke remembers him to be.

Selfishly, he also wants Calum to see him, and wants to see Calum’s reaction to seeing him. Because Luke knows he’s different now. Physically, yes, but in other ways too. College gave him a new confidence and comfort inside his own mind and skin. High school Luke was silly and a little awkward and shy, unwilling to come out of his shell for just anyone, and when he did, he was always a little self conscious about it. Always quick to adjust his behavior if he caught someone giving him a strange look for getting tired of his stupid jokes or his clinginess or just him, in general.

He’s still silly and a little awkward and shy around new people, but he stands his ground now, unwilling to change the core parts of his personality just to fit in, and he’s proud of that.

Calum has always been like that.

Okay, maybe Luke thinks about Calum a lot. Maybe Luke’s brain frequently rides the “what if” wave, daydreaming about how life might be different if they were still together. If they got back together, even. Would they still fit? Would it be even better than it was before?

“He got hung up at a family thing, but he’s on his way,” Michael says, tense eyes on the cupcake in Luke’s hand.

Luke takes a big bite, no doubt smearing the red frosting in the corners of his mouth. It’s sickly sweet, just the way he likes. It seems to relax Michael, though, and Luke tries to smile reassuringly while he chews. “It’s fine,” he says after he swallows. “Might be nice to catch up.” Luke shrugs, aiming for casual indifference, and takes another bite of his cupcake.

***

It’s not quite dark when Calum arrives, but all the backyard lights are already on, casting a bright glow on Calum’s face as he slinks through the sliding glass door from Michael’s house onto the patio. Luke watches him from his darker corner of the yard, unsure if Calum can see him. He probably wouldn’t pick him out of the crowd anyway, with everyone else being much louder and livelier in the center of the yard around the bonfire.

Luke seems to notice him before anyone else does. He takes in Calum’s baggy shorts and even baggier t-shirt, his checkered vans and the slightly overgrown curls on his head, and he physically clenches at how familiar it is. Luke can almost smell Calum, feel Calum’s arms around him, hear his voice low in his ear saying I really fucking love you, because Calum always did things a little more than everyone else. He didn’t just love Luke. He really fucking loved him. Luke was a little afraid no one would love him like that ever again.

Within a few seconds, Michael spots Calum and tackles him in a hug, and Calum’s bright laughter echoes around the yard. It makes Luke smile automatically, apparently still happy to see Calum happy, even after they broke each other’s hearts. Funny how that works.

Luke observes as Calum makes small talk with all their friends, stray hugs and wide smiles around the crackling fire. He should probably go over and say hello if he doesn’t want this to be weird, but he feels like he’s glued to his chair.

He can’t physically make himself get up. So he watches. Appreciates the way all the little details of Calum are exactly the same as he remembers. He even moves the same, somehow more elegant than everyone else as he roasts a marshmallow to perfection for Michael to make a s’more. Michael is always too impatient, setting his marshmallows on fire and burning them to a blackened char.

It wasn’t very many July Fourths ago, in the same exact spot, that Calum licked marshmallow and melted chocolate off Luke’s fingers, Luke’s confused teenage body responding simultaneously with a spark in his belly and a hiccupy giggle. That’s a memory Luke hadn’t dredged up in a long while, and his chest hurts thinking of it now.

He’s still quietly watching when Calum looks up from the picnic table where he’s assembling Michael’s s’more and catches Luke staring. There’s a flicker of confusion in Calum’s eyes, quickly replaced with soft determination. He looks away, nudging Michael with a plate until he takes his s’more, then he starts the short walk across the yard to Luke.

It’s excruciating, watching him come closer, one step at a time. Luke doesn’t know what to do with his hands or his face while he waits, so he settles on raising his eyebrows and waving pathetically, like fancy meeting you here, as if both of them didn’t already know they would.

“Almost didn’t recognize you,” Calum says, hovering at the foot of Luke’s lounger. He’s backlit, and it’s hard for Luke to make out the details of his expression. Probably for the best.

“I don’t look that different, do I?” Luke wonders, tamping down the anxiety threatening to burst out of his chest.

Calum looks him over slowly and Luke feels even warmer under Calum’s blazing eyes. “I don’t know.” He sits down sideways on the edge of the lounger next to Luke, elbows on his knees. “You do and you don’t,” he settles on, offering Luke a small smile.

His eyes keep roaming over Luke with that tiny hint of confusion, like his mind is working in overdrive to update its catalog with this new version of Luke, connecting the visual in front of him with the memories he has stored away, memories that feature an entirely different version of Luke.

“You don’t,” Luke says confidently. Calum is maybe a little broader, and he has a hint of a beard, and he’s wearing a chain around his neck that high school Calum wouldn’t have gone anywhere near, but he mostly looks the same. Same style, same mannerisms, same neverending kindness in his burning eyes.

Calum’s smile widens at Luke’s words. “How have you been?”

How do you even begin to cover four years’ worth of life? Life’s made up of all the little day-to-day moments anyway. Luke can’t very well start telling Calum about the cute dog he saw on his walk to campus three years ago, or the way the ice cream shop across from his apartment had a delicious pumpkin butterbeer flavor last Halloween. None of it feels important enough to share, and yet. Those little unimportant things make up everything, don’t they?

“Good,” Luke says, biting at the inside of his cheek. “You know. I graduated. Now I have to figure out what to do with myself.”

Calum chuckles awkwardly and the pain in Luke’s chest spreads until he feels like he’s suffocating. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be between them. It’s not supposed to be work, talking to Calum. It never was before, and Luke doesn’t know how to deal with it now.

“You have a job lined up?” Calum doesn’t seem to be as affected by the weirdness of the situation, but then, he’s always been better at hiding his feelings.

“Not yet,” Luke says. “I have some good leads though. You?” It’s so bland. So mundane. Luke wants to puke.

“Yeah,” Calum says shyly, like he’s afraid he’ll offend Luke by admitting his life is slightly more together. “I have an internship with this graphic design firm? It’s paid though, and it might be a foot in the door.” Calum grimaces, and Luke can almost see him silently berating himself for using the phrase foot in the door. It’s reassuring. They’re both struggling through this conversation after all.

Graphic design. Luke didn’t even know that’s what Calum ended up studying in college. The thought pains him, because even though they’re not together, they loved each other. It feels wrong not to know something so basic about a person Luke once loved. Are they strangers now? Now that they’ve had so many stray moments come and go in the last four years without the other person being there or hearing about them?

“That’s great,” Luke chokes out, trying to keep his voice light and congratulatory. “Here in town?”

Calum looks across the yard at their friends around the fire. Is he looking for an escape already? “Out in LA.”

While Calum going to LA for college wasn’t the only reason they broke up, it certainly didn’t help. Not much point in trying to keep a sinking ship above water if one of you is already jumping into a lifeboat.

“You like it there, then?” Fuck. Luke wants to gouge his eyes out with the metal pokers their friends are using to roast marshmallows.

“It takes some getting used to,” Calum says. “But it’s not bad once you find your places, you know?” He looks at Luke with wide, imploring eyes, and it soothes Luke’s nerves a little. Calum is trying to make this conversation a success, trying to push through the initial awkwardness, and Luke’s willing to try with him. Desperate to, actually.

“Yeah, I get that. What are your places?”

“In-N-Out Burger, of course,” Calum starts, nodding his head in satisfaction. Luke smiles, maybe the first real smile since he’s started talking to Calum, and Calum grins back at him unabashedly.

“Of course,” Luke encourages.

“There’s a vintage store in West LA I love,” Calum continues, getting excited now. “Last time I went they had a fucking Nickelback shirt that made me think of you.”

For some reason, the idea that Calum thinks about Luke at all is a small shock. He thinks about Calum a lot, probably too much. He thought he’d go off to college and meet all these amazing people, new romantic prospects that would sweep him off his feet and make Calum seem boring by comparison. But all that happened was Luke met a lot of people, and none of them were as perfectly imperfect as Calum.

Calum’s imperfections were things that suited Luke. The fact that he laughed too easily at things that weren’t that funny, the way he got quiet and withdrawn when he was overwhelmed, his affinity for setting the thermostat uncomfortably high because he ran cold – all things Luke could deal with, and even appreciate.

Calum’s easy laughter was perfect for Luke, who loved nothing more than to make him laugh. Calum’s quiet response to being overwhelmed balanced out Luke’s anxious one. Calum’s cooler body chilled Luke’s when they tangled together, and Luke’s blazing skin kept Calum warm in turn.

“I almost bought it to send to you,” Calum says, tone softening. He runs a hand through his hair, scrunching his fingers just a bit, and Luke remembers when he used to get to do that. The feeling of the soft strands of hair between his fingers, and the weight of Calum’s head in his hand when he’d lean into Luke’s touch. “I’m glad I didn’t though. It wouldn’t have fit you now that you’re a giant. When did that happen, anyway?” Calum punches Luke lightly in the arm and Luke laughs, even though what he really wants to do is hide behind Michael’s shed and scream or cry or do something to release this strange mix of emotions swirling inside him.

“I don’t know, must’ve been the dining hall chicken nuggets,” Luke offers halfheartedly.

Calum latches on like it’s a lifeline. “I thought you were going to become a vegetarian when you went to college?”

Of course Calum remembers that; Luke went on and on about his grand plan to use college as an opportunity to finally go vegetarian for months, before. Before they broke up, before they went to different parts of the country. It’s just strange hearing Calum acknowledge it, because that means he’s acknowledging them.

Raising his eyebrows guiltily, Luke says, “I lied?”

“I always wondered if you ever followed through on that.”

Now that Calum has brought up their shared history, Luke feels freer. The past isn’t off limits. Strangely, this small shift makes all the difference. He feels the oppressive awkwardness of the moment dissipating, evaporating along with the humidity in the air. “You knew I didn’t, Calum,” Luke accuses. “You know my willpower is shit.”

“I sure as hell do.” Calum stifles a laugh with his hand over his mouth. “Remember when you made me promise not to let you kiss me until you finished your history portfolio for Mr. G’s class?” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that makes Luke’s heart stutter.

“Fucking hell,” Luke grumbles good-naturedly, steadfastly ignoring the way his heart is thudding in his chest. “Set myself up for failure there, didn’t I?”

“How long was it you lasted? Twelve minutes?” Calum shakes his head as he picks lazily at a scab on his knee.

“Had to have been at least twenty.” Luke’s rebuttal is a flat-out lie, delivered with a guilty smile. He knows Calum is right, and he’s thrilled that Calum remembers this moment so specifically. Sometimes he forgets that Calum cared too, once, and maybe still does. Luke doesn’t like to think like this. He doesn’t want to hope Calum still cares the way he still cares. It would make the whole situation unbearably sad.

“I gave you a hard time about it, but it was probably just as rough for me. You wore your glasses to study and I always loved you in glasses. So hot.”

Luke can feel himself start to blush, and he wonders if this, and his increasingly rapid heartbeat, are just his body reverting to some sort of innate Calum response, going on autopilot as if no time had passed since Calum used to make Luke blush daily.

It seems like Calum can sense it too, smirking at Luke like he knows, even in the fading light, that Luke is still responding to him the same way he did when he was sixteen.

“Yeah, well. You haven’t seen my new glasses,” Luke says, biting his lip to hold back a smile. He means for it to be self-deprecating, but he realizes a moment too late that it sounds like he’s flirting. Shit. This is a sure sign he’s gotten too comfortable with this conversation and needs to find a way out of it as quickly as possible, before someone (he) gets hurt.

“I’d really like to see them,” Calum replies, a little flirty as well, but there’s also something earnest there, a sincerity in his eyes, and Luke trips over it, keeping his eyes locked with Calum’s for probably too long, because Calum jerks his head to look at their friends, joking around the bonfire, before he speaks again.

“I miss you.”

Luke leans forward, holding his breath, unsure he heard correctly over the laughter of his friends and the incessant buzz of cicadas. He’s afraid to acknowledge the words. He must have heard wrong. He can’t say I miss you too if there’s even a small chance he’s –

“You heard me right,” Calum says, shifting his eyes back to Luke with intention, silently begging Luke to respond and save him from his own embarrassment.

“Can’t believe you can still read my mind after four years apart,” Luke replies, quietly astonished. His mind spins and cartwheels around all the things he could say, frantically trying to calculate the risk of revealing the truth.

“I wish that were true.” Calum’s voice is tight, and Luke realizes that they’re both agonizing over the same fucking thing. He can put them both out of their misery with four words, but what good does it do to admit it? Then again, what good has it done not to admit it?

“I miss you too,” he says, quickly, in one rushed exhale, before he can talk himself out of it.

He doesn’t expect Calum to laugh, and it seems like maybe Calum even surprises himself with how quickly he tries to choke it back. “Damn. Okay. Okay. That’s a fucking relief.” He shakes his head and rolls his shoulders like he’s overwhelmed, and he’s looking at Luke in this very specific way.

The way he used to look at him from across the lunch table in the cafeteria, from the passenger seat of Luke’s old car, and from the pillow next to him in his bed late on weekend nights.

Luke squeaks out a disbelieving laugh of his own, and his chest flutters when Calum’s eyes fill with fondness at the sound of it.

Luke taps his fingers on his armrest, the nervous tension bleeding out his fingertips. There’s something unspoken between them, exhilarating and hopeful, but also something with the power to break them, again. He looks at Calum, wide-eyed and breathless. “So what do we do about it?”

Calum stretches out in his lounger and tilts his head to the sky. “For now? Just watch the fireworks.”

A sudden boom draws Luke’s eyes up just as a shower of purple and green sparks rain across the sky above them. He’s watching them fall to the ground, embers that could start a fire, when he feels Calum’s fingers slip between his.

[yoonia]

Share Fun Facts about Your Fics!

↳ Tagged by @bonvoyagenoona & @kpopfanfictrash – thank you so much! This looks like so much fun and I love reading all your behind the scenes!

↳ Instructions: Maybe you’re proud of a line of dialogue. Maybe you were playing with story structure, and something unexpected happened. Maybe you gave a character an idiosyncrasy that’s based on a person you know. Or maybe you just like something for no reason at all. Inquiring minds wanna know.

↳ Tagging: @randombtsprincessa @softyoongiionly @avveh @yeoldontknow @kookdiaries @jungkxook @kookingtae @kittae @ladyartemesia @hobidreams @jamaisjoons @propinqxity​ @kithtaehyung​

Pick three of your fics and share a fun detail from each!

Wow, I really couldn’t decide which ones to talk about. But here we go:

↳ The Half-Lycan

It all started from one single drabble, and then have the character (werewolf Tae) haunting me during one NaNoWriMo period for me to return to it. Have I planned to have this one become a part of the Shifter Series/somehow connected to Blood Moon Rising? Never. But I was already working on Vampire Jimin while I was planning this one out and I must admit that I’ve had the universe all pictured inside my head before I even began writing this one. I can’t remember if anyone had pointed this out on Tumblr (which is understandable, since I posted this as a monster fic of a whooping 40k words so details might have been off lol), but I’ve had readers from Wattpad pointed a few things that I should clarify here too: 

Age difference: Taehyung was 14 yo when he met OC the first time, while she was 6 going on 7 yo. Which means that she was still a child when Taehyung reached the age of 18 yo, when he was finally able to recognise her as his mate. I had to add this little detail to make it a bit more sense why Taehyung had to leave when she was a teen and to line up the story with Blood Moon Rising

The main goal of this story (together with Of Bears & Bonds and the upcoming The Agile Fox) is to simply show that it’s possible for a shifter to have a mate from a different species, something that will be useful later on Blood Moon Rising

I had initially planned to give the rest of the supporting stories in Shifter Series original characters instead of reader insert. It was unfortunate that Fever came out 2 years before this prologue did and that one had already been written with a reader insert so I had to void the idea

7 yo OC was wearing a red coat and was carrying a basket filled with wild berries and mushrooms for her sick father when Taehyung found her in the woods. Yes, this scene was partly inspired by Red Riding Hood

The scene where adult OC woke up to find wolf Taehyung stuck in the hunter’s trap was a part of my original novel which I scrapped the year before cause I lost all motivation to finish it hahaha I’m glad that I could still use it in the end. And I’m quite happy to put this one in cause it shows the connection to their first meeting. 1) because they keep meeting while Tae is in his wolf form 2) they first met by having Taehyung getting her out of trouble, while it’s OC’s turn to help Taehyung in their reunion

↳ Show Me Something

Ever had a fic that you’ve worked on for like forever and then right before you managed to finish it, all inspiration and motivation to work on it suddenly vanished? That’s what happened to me with this one. This fic was supposed to be released June/July 2020, but we all know what happened since then :”)

I’m not sure if anyone has ever noticed this but there are a lot of metaphors in this story.

The way OC described “using” Jungkook as her anchor to keep her grounded in the tilted tower represents the fact that she had kept Jungkook in her mind through life despite their initial fallout 

The go-kart race and the way Jungkook kept catching up to her represent the same thing happening in real life, how now matter how much she had tried to move on, he’d always be there to remind her that he’s still present

The massage at the beach may have come out of nowhere. It did, actually, but it represents how each time they are alone, they still find the old connection between each other still going strong

There are also the constant competition going on between them and the ferris wheel ride that represents the way their life has been changing at the same time without them even knowing it

↳ Clair De Lune 

I love how it had seemed as if @meispace​ had created this moodboard specifically for me lmao 

The moment I was sent this moodboard for the colab at the time, I was instantly compelled to give this beautiful art some justice by creating something elaborate that could represent this moodboard the way it deserved. I also wanted to give this picture something unpredictable. Yoongi and his piano seemed to be a given as the main factor of the story, but I suppose nobody had truly expected to see an escort OC/reader as the female lead and I found myself loving this story more because of it. 

I never truly encountered any problem while finishing this story. I remember going right into it as soon as I got my assignment, if you will, and made up a whole story that I felt so pleased with in the end. Choosing the title was a different matter, but I think the song Clair De Lune was a fitting title to represent the pace of the story (how it had flowed smoothly at the beginning before it began to rise as it reached its climax) and it made it even more fitting as we came to the scene where Yoongi took OC in their romantic dance under the moonlight while revealing his song, “Moonlight”, to his muse. 

[lizhly-writes]

camp nano july 2021: days 3-6

[5030 / 25000]

Okay so I might not have posted here daily like I wanted, but rest assured!  I am on task!  I have never been This On Task for a NaNoWriMo event in my life.  I am actually ahead of my word count goals, technically (since I’m not counting day 7 yet).  Is this what it’s like setting a realistic word count goal???

Still have perhaps bitten off more than I can chew.  This double transmigration thing sort of means that I’m essentially planning 3-4 plots instead of one... and also that the ‘pre-transmigrated’ plots might be more interesting than the plot that I’m actually writing... whoops.  WHATEVER.

An excerpt:

Ah, so that's the full name of this body.  Wilhelmina Sterling.

...You've got to be kidding me.

I know that name, because I have a pretty good head for fictional character names, and that's exactly who this is.  A fictional character.  She's from "A Rose, By Any Other Name," a character from a random webnovel I picked up because I wanted to distract myself before exam season picked up.

This is some otome isekai transmigration bullshit I've gotten myself into.  A classic one, too.  By the standards of the genre, Wilhelmina Sterling is a villainess -- a catty, arrogant noble girl that's always keen to pick a fight with our underdog commoner heroine.  

No wonder why this girl looked at me so strangely.  Wilhelmina Sterling would never say sorry.  Not sincerely, anyway.  

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the heroine hates this girl the most, and normally now is the time that I say that oh, as the villainess, the heroine gets her revenge on me.  Karmic retribution or whatever.  But here's the thing, I genuinely don't remember what happens to her.  Like I said, I picked this up right before exam season.  I had better things to pay attention to, so I skimmed some bits.  I think she went missing at some point?  She certainly stopped showing up, but I must have accidentally skipped a chapter or two, because I don't know if that means she got kidnapped or she died or simply just went back home.

Well, if we go by the standard tropes, then it's easy to say that obviously, something terrible happened to her.  But it doesn't change the fact that I’m not sure what.

…That said, I might have an idea.  

Our heroine always reiterated that the city was a civilized place, but civilized didn’t necessarily mean safe.  There was one thing that was snuck in the background a lot — a series of kills made by what everyone called ‘The Prince’.  At the beginning, I just thought it was an excuse for the male lead to walk our heroine back to the dorms a lot, but as I kept reading, there was more and more information that showed up about it.  Not in the foreground of things, but in headlines and newspapers and throwaway bits of dialogue that our heroine wasn’t necessarily paying full attention to.  It wasn’t the only thing there, yeah, but it showed up often enough that, at this point, it would be weird if a Prince didn’t make an actual appearance in the novel.

And it would be really perfect if whoever it was made their entrance by killing the villainess, wouldn’t it?

[jjungkookislife]

The Key to My Drawer Ch. 10

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: angst!, bf2l. 18+

wc: 1.2k

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex

date: July 10, 2020

The next morning you wake up early.  You feed Tannie and take him out for a walk before going home to have breakfast, shower and get dolled up for Taehyung’s return.  You're excited and bubbling with nerves as you sit in his bed, reading the second to the last letter.

Jungkook stopped by today.  Guess what he brought over, love?  An album packed full of pictures of us throughout the years.  I told him I planned on telling you soon, and he looked for all the pictures he had of us.  

I’ve kept most of them in the album under my bed, but I put my favorites in my drawer.  You know the one I started wearing a key for?  I bet you’re curious about it but I always keep the key around my neck ‘cause I know you like to snoop and I don’t want you finding out about any of this until I tell you.

Anyway, I found a picture in the album of us slow dancing at prom.  Fuck, that’s so long ago now.  You look beautiful, but I look like a mess.  Okay, I’m lying, I look pretty good, but only because you’re beside me.  

Thinking back now, I should have kissed you then.  Right on the floor with everyone watching us, but we kissed later that night… We did so much more.  

At the time, I might have been annoyed with Kook for taking pictures of us and all our friends, but now I’m grateful.  I’m glad he didn’t listen to me and took those photos of us at the beach on our Freshman Orientation.  You look so radiant, smiling and wrapped in my arms.  I’ll treasure these photos of us, these memories, forever.

Our entire lives are laid out in that album, well from high school until now.  Our moms have everything though, nobody can beat them at capturing and keeping memories.  I think they’ll have another album ready for us for Christmas… haha.

The moment I told Jungkook I was planning on telling you, he screamed, “finally!  Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment?!  Finally, the eye-fucking will end!”

We don’t eye fuck each other, do we?  I mean… sometimes I stare at you ‘cause you look unbelievably hot and I think about the times I’ve had you writhing beneath me and I…

Oh.

I guess we do… or at least I do.

Whoops!

Jungkook keeps trying to read over my shoulder, so I need to end this here.  He keeps telling me we need to strategize but I know he just wants me to order takeout and pay for it.  I guess it’s the least I can do for bringing me these pictures.  I can’t wait to sit with you and look at each one.

I’m excited, baby.

Soon....

I know I’ve said that time and time again, but I mean it this time.  Jungkook says he has some ideas.  Apparently he’s been dreaming of this moment since he found out.

Wait, he just whipped out a binder… is he serious?

I gotta go, baby.

Jungkook’s talking about renting out a blimp and flying it over the city.  I need to stop him, he’s already getting quotes.

I’ll tell you soon, my love.

It won’t be on a blimp, but I’ll tell you soon....

I just need to figure out how…

I love you, baby.

So much…

You really hope Taehyung was able to talk Jungkook out of the blimp.  You don’t think you could handle the embarrassment.  You reach for the last letter, realizing it’s the one you had first read on Friday.  Has it already been two days since you’ve started reading them?

Excitement bubbles in your stomach.  Taehyung should be home soon and you’ll be able to tell him.  You don’t know if he has something planned, but you can’t wait any longer.  He needs to know.  He has to.

Your phone ringing draws you out of your reverie, your eyes widening in surprise.  You answer it, smiling to yourself, “hello?”

“Hey, Y/n…”  Taehyung sighs heavily.  Your brows furrow in worry.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you still at my place?”

“Yeah, I’m with Tannie.  I was about to feed him.”  You answer, wondering what’s going on.

“Can you do me a favor, love?  I got Hoseok a card and I’ve dumped everything out of my duffel bag and it’s not in here.  I think I may have left it on the kitchen table when I checked the mail on Friday.  I don’t think I dropped it anywhere. Can you take a look?”  Taehyung sounds a bit sad, so you assure him that you’ll check.

“Okay, I’m heading to the airport so just text me if you find it, okay?”

“Sure, Tae.  See you soon!”  You hang up before going to the kitchen, feeding Tannie and looking through the small stack of envelopes on the table.

Bill.

Bill.

Y/n.

Bill.

Wait, Y/n?  You go back, seeing an envelope with your name on it.  Your brows furrowed in confusion as you open it, walking toward the living room.

Dear Y/n,

I’m sure by now you’ve read all the letters.

You gasp, eyes wide in surprise.

You didn’t think I was careless enough to leave my key on the bedside table by accident, right?  I’ve kept this key around my neck for a reason, but I don’t need to anymore because I’m tired of locking away my feelings for you, baby.

I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist opening the drawer, so I left the key on top.  I even pretended to forget it before I left so I could check to see if you had opened it.  You did.  Just like I knew you would.  I made sure it was left open a tiny bit for you so you could read all these letters I wrote you.

I know it’s long overdue, and I truly am sorry for that, love.  I really am, but I love you.  I’m in love with you and I have been for as long as I can remember.  I know you love me too, and although I would have preferred to hear it from your lips, it gave me the push I finally needed to tell you.

I’m still a coward, though.  I waited until I had to leave for the weekend to do it, but I’ll be home soon.  I hope I’m not too late, baby.  I’ve got a lot to make up for, I know I do.    

I’ve loved you since I took my first breath and I’ll love you until I take my last…

Do you love me too…?

The front door opens.  You look up, tears in your eyes as Taehyung walks in with a shy smile on his lips.

“I see you got my letters,” he states with a grin as he sets his duffel bag aside, shutting the door after him.  He only has a second before you’re running into his arms, crying tears of joy.  He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tight.

Taehyung presses his forehead against yours, his thumbs wiping away the tears, but they just keep flowing.  

He chuckles before asking, “do you?”

You answer him by pressing your lips against his, enjoying the taste of his lips, “I do.”

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.

<< previous // next>>

[jccham]

❝  my  friend’s  cousin’s  best  friend  used  to  work  as  one  of  his  maids  and  she  said  that  his  step-mom  used  to  pay  him  to  keep  her  affair  with  his  uncle  a  secret  ❞  JORDAN  CHAMBERS  ,  who  resembles  KEITH  POWERS  and  is  the  PRESIDENT  of  BETA  TAU  RHO  ,  is  TWENTY-TWO  years  old  and  responds  to  HE  /  HIM  .  𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥  𝘣𝘺  𝘫𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘦  ;  𝘴𝘩𝘦  /  𝘩𝘦𝘳  .

what  up,  i’m  julie,  hailing  from  the  gmt-5  tz  &  i’ve  been  out  all  day  ,  so  i’ve  been  unfortunately  been  a  little  late  to  the  party  buuuut  i  am  here  now  &  i  am  so  excited  to  share  jordan  with  you  all  !  

BASICS  :   full  name  —  jordan  dominic  chambers  .  preferred  —  jordan  .  nickname  —  jd  .  titles  —  captain  and  power  forward  of  the  mens’  kingshill  basketball  team  &&  .  president  of  beta  tau  rho  .  dob  —  august  first  nineteen  ninety  eight  .  astrological  sign  —  leo  .  hometown  —  new  york  city  ,  new  york  .  current  residence  —  kingshill  ,  new  york  .   MAIN  BACKGROUND  :

the  nineties’  basketball  scene  was  dominated  by  the  six  time  nba  champion  chicago  bulls  and  one  of  the  greatest  men  to  ever  play  the  game,  jay  chambers,  led  the  charge.  jordan’s  father  couldn’t  go  anywhere  in  the  country  without  being  flocked  by  fans,  in  awe  of  the  six  nine  legend  in  the  making  .

unfortunately,  this  came  to  a  halting  stop  when  jay  suffered  a  career  ending  neck  injury  that  would  forever  change  his  life  .  coupled  with  an  unwanted  pregnancy  with  darling  socialite  carolina  blair  ,  within  a  year  ,  jay  went  from  basketball  hotshot  to  stiff  businessman  and  father  .  a  shotgun  wedding  meant  financial  stability  in  working  with  the  blairs’  insurance  company,  which  jay  needed  with  no  job  and  years  of  wasting  millions  on  partying  and  luxuries  with  an  expiry  date  .

neither  parent  really  wanted  jordan  and  it  showed  through  the  revolving  cycle  of  nannies  filling  their  roles  .  even  with  hours  on  hand  to  think  about  it  ,  jordan  would  not  be  able  to  share  one  heartfelt  anecdote  from  his  childhood  involving  either  of  them  .

new  york  city  will  always  be  jordan’s  home  ,  his  birth  place  ,  even  through  his  years  of  european  boarding  schools  and  californian  summer  camps  .

basketball  came  naturally  to  jordan  (  no  surprise  )  and  it  was  one  summer  after  returning  from  boarding  school  ,  where  he  had  learned  the  sport  ,  when  he  learned  who  his  father  was  .  he’d  been  bothering  his  father  all  day  to  come  out  of  his  office  to  show  off  his  new  skills  ,  when  he’d  been  barked  at  for  picking  up  a  basketball  at  all  .  

at  first  ,  the  last  thing  jordan  wanted  was  to  upset  anybody  ,  so  he  stayed  away  from  the  sport  at  first  .  however  ,  as  the  years  went  on  ,  his  resentment  towards  his  parents  and  especially  his  father  grew  ,  and  so  ,  continued  playing  basketball  out  of  spite  .  he  was  damn  good  at  it  .

his  mother  paid  for  his  basketball  camps  and  programs  ,  since  she  was  always  so  willing  to  throw  money  at  jordan  to  make  him  go  away  .  he  will  claim  to  this  day  that  he  found  himself  through  the  sport  ,  as  it  taught  him  the  abundant  rewards  of  diligence  and  how  to  be  a  leader.  basketball  made  a  man  out  of  him  ,  something  his  family  never  did  .  

she  left  jordan’s  father  when  he  was  fourteen  and  that  point  ,  he  didn’t  have  any  shits  left  to  give  .  they  barely  had  a  relationship  ,  which  was  honestly  better  than  the  hostility  that  jordan’s  father  showed  him  ,  but  it  wasn’t  enough  for  any  tears  to  be  shed  when  she  declared  she  didn’t  want  custody  .  meanwhile  ,  his  father  accumulated  enough  status  and  wealth  to  branch  off  from  his  ex  wife’s  company  and  form  his  own  .

this  meant  nothing  to  jordan  ,  though  ,  because  as  long  as  he  kept  getting  his  allowance  and  freedom  ,  there  wasn’t  a  change  to  begin  with  .  he  was  used  to  getting  paid  by  his  parents  for  the  little  things  ,  like  a  new  car  when  he  didn’t  bother  his  mother  for  an  entire  month  or  when  his  father  sent  him  on  a  “vacation”  to  the  maldives  with  his  friends  for  christmas  break  .  even  his  new  step  mom  gifted  him  exclusive  sneakers  when  he  put  in  a  good  word  for  her  to  some  tabloid  that  followed  jay  chambers’  new  marriage  .  however  ,  he  drew  the  line  when  his  parents  asked  him  to  attend  kingshill  .  

jordan  dreamed  of  making  it  as  a  professional  basketball  player  .  not  only  that  ,  but  he  was  en  route  to  it  ,  having  scouts  watch  him  since  the  beginning  of  high  school  .  he’d  played  at  the  national  level  and  won  gold  on  endless  occasions  ,  in  addition  to  mvp  trophies  and  other  accolades.  by  senior  year  ,  all  of  the  top  d1  schools  and  agents  came  knocking  on  his  door  .  

despite  his  parents’  divorce  ,  their  two  companies  continued  to  work  closely  together  and  saw  jordan  as  their  sole  heir  .  therefore  ,  they  needed  him  to  be  groomed  by  the  best  school  that  money  could  offer  and  they  saw  kingshill  as  the  perfect  and  only  match  .  

everyone  wonders  why  jordan  has  turned  his  back  on  the  draft  for  three  years  running  .  he  clearly  loves  the  game  of  basketball  and  is  one  of  the  most  hard  working  people  you’d  ever  meet  ,  a  born  star  on  the  court  .  instead  ,  he’s  a  senior  in  his  business  administration  major  and  despite  the  charming  smile  and  affinity  for  partying  ,  is  miserable  .

jordan  chambers  is  a  little  more  than  intimidating  ,  due  to  his  naturally  abrasive  attitude  ,  his  six  seven  stature  and  rumours  that  have  floated  around  his  name  since  freshman  year.  after  all  ,  it’s  safe  to  say  that  he’s  gone  a  little  bit  more  than  wild  since  first  stepping  foot  onto  campus  .  whether  it’s  lashing  out  at  his  parents  or  his  own  development  of  a  coping  mechanism  ,  beta  tau  rho’s  incredible  partying  legacy  has  lived  on  because  of  jordan  .  work  hard  ,  play  hard  ,  and  you’ve  officially  become  a  beta  tau  rho  brother.

PERSONALITY  :  

all  in  all  ,  jordan  is  a  little  bit  too  much  .  his  ego  is  a  little  too  big  ,  cares  more  than  he  should  ,  his  bad  habits  are  a  little  too  intense  ,  and  he  works  harder  than  anyone  else  .  

as  mentioned  before  ,  he  tends  to  be  intimidating  upon  first  impression  and  usually  rubs  people  the  wrong  way  .  he’s  learned  to  become  stoic  and  cold  over  the  years  when  dealing  with  other  people  of  the  same  wealth  ,  afraid  to  be  used  or  manipulated  by  showing  anything  that  could  be  used  against  him  .  

while  jordan  is  a  man  of  few  words,  he  is  quippy  and  sharp  when  he  does  speak  .  his  charm  is  subtle  and  dry  ,  a  blink-and-you’ll-miss  that  part  of  him  type  thing  .  

unsurprisingly  ,  jordan  keeps  a  small  circle  .  he  loves  beta  tau  rho  because  they  all  understand  the  value  of  hard  work  and  constantly  improving  yourself  ,  which  is  why  he  genuinely  cares  deeply  for  his  fraternity  brothers  and  would  probably  do  anything  for  them  ,  even  if  he  doesn’t  seem  like  the  type  .  he  will  always  help  his  friends  ,  no  questions  asked  ,  and  would  do  anything  in  his  power  to  do  so  .  since  he  has  been  mostly  independent  for  as  long  as  he  can  remember  ,  jordan  cherishes  moments  when  he  can  spend  time  with  people  that  he  cares  about  .

though  not  particularly  passionate  about  school  ,  jordan  is  ambitious  .  he  strives  for  greatness  in  everything  he  does  ,  no  matter  how  small  .  he  will  stop  at  nothing  to  achieve  his  goals  ,  sometimes  even  unknowingly  jeopardizing  his  relationships  in  the  process.  

obviously  ,  he  loves  partying  .  jordan  always  cared  about  his  body  and  health  because  of  basketball  ,  but  since  coming  to  kingshill  and  having  his  vision  of  making  it  in  the  nba  tarnished  ,  he’s  loosened  his  old  ‘  no  binge  drinking  ,  no  drugs  rule  ’  up  a  bit  .  he  may  or  may  not  blackout  every  weekend  .  he  may  or  may  not  smoke  a  little  too  much  weed  .  some  things  simply  cannot  be  helped  . 

WANTED  CONNECTIONS  :

i  have  this  page  up  ,  but  i'm  always  down  to  brainstorm  !  especially  since  my  wc  page  is  hella  under  construction  whoops  but  yes  throw  your  ideas  at  me  omg  like  this  post  and  i'll  come  to  u!  

[ioncewaspoison-ivy]

I Want To Dance With Somebody Pt.3 (Charlie Gillespie x Fem! Reader)

Author: Alex / @ioncewaspoison-ivy​

Part 1 / Part 2

Word Count: 1.6k+

A/N: I’m back! I’ve been uber busy but finally had the time to finish this up. I hope y’all like it.

Warnings: brief mentions of anxiety + a past injury

The Julie and the Phantoms crowd had been able to go back to their own rehearsal space the day after Charlie had given you his number.

As a result, you hadn’t seen him in a couple weeks, so things had kind of gone back to normal. Well, with the added bonus of texting with Charlie and sometimes talking on nights when he wasn’t tired from rehearsing and filming.

You were in the middle of leading a rehearsal for the senior company when your phone rang.

You quickly declined the call and made sure your ringer was off before turning to the annoyed students in front of you.

Before you could get back into rehearsal, your phone rang again. Exasperated, you decided to see who it was.

It was Charlie. But why would he be calling you in the middle of rehearsal? You knew he was filming that day.

“Do you need to take that?” one of your senior girls asked.

“Briefly, yes,” you said, turning away from your students to accept the phone call.

“Charlie—“

“Y/N, thank god you picked up,” Charlie said.

“What’s going on? I’m in the middle of—“

Charlie’s voice was replaced by Kenny’s.

“Y/N? Hey—it’s Kenny. Are you busy right now?”

“Well—“

“No? Good. I’m sending a car to the studio to pick you up. Be out front in like 10 minutes.”

Before you could say another word Kenny had hung up. You looked at your phone in bewilderment, and then looked up to see your students staring at you.

“I swear this will never happen again, but Emma could you please lead the group through the rest of rehearsal? It sounds like I’m being summoned to the set of a TV show for some reason.”

The girl in question nodded, and you made sure everything was set for her before heading out.

“Kenny Ortega is sending a car for me,” you said to Zach. “Kenny freakin’ Ortega is sending a car. For me.”

“Do you know why?” Zach asked, his eyes gleaming in excitement.

“No. Not at all. He basically said he was sending a car for me and then just hung up.”

“Oooh this is exciting!! I expect to hear everything when you get back. I’ll keep an extra eye on rehearsal for you.

“Thank you so much! See you later!” you said, heading out the door when you saw a car pull up to the studio.

“Are you Y/N Y/L/N?” the driver asked.

“Yes that’s me.” You replied.

“Good. I’m in the right place. Kenny Ortega sent me.”

“Cool,” you said, getting in the car. “You wouldn’t happen to know why they called me do you?”

“No ma’am. They just gave me directions and your name and told me to come pick you up.”

“Hmmmm….”

You felt yourself getting anxious, and the car ride seemed to pass in no time at all.

When you pulled up to the building where they were filming, Charlie was outside waiting for you.

“Charlie what’s happening? Why did I get pulled out of rehearsal?” you asked while hopping out of the car.

He just smiled at you and led you inside.

You gaped when you saw the set, but before you could really process any of it Kenny had practically run up to you.

“Oh good, Y/N you’re here. We need to get you measured and then in hair and makeup and then we can get this show on the road.” Kenny said while leading you to what appeared to be a wardrobe area.

“Angela, Kelly, this is Y/N, the one whose measurements we need for Halle’s costume. Will y’all do your thing and then make sure she finds her way to hair and makeup.”

Angela and Kelly grabbed tape measures and came toward you, stopping to glare at Charlie who then turned around.

Given a moment to breathe, you asked Charlie what the heck was going on.

“Well....Halle woke up with a 102 degree fever and has thrown up twice this morning. Kenny doesn’t want her getting any of us sick, but we’ll also fall behind schedule if we don’t get any of the ‘All Eyes On Me,’ scene filmed today. So when Kenny was panicking about a stand-in I reminded him that you had stood in while rehearsing,” he said.

“Wait so you’re saying there’s a chance I could be on a TV show??”

“Well, Netflix show, but yeah...”

“I can’t be on TV. I can’t dance on TV. I’m just a dance teacher. I haven’t really performed in years. Not since....” you felt yourself starting to hyperventilate.

You didn’t notice Charlie shoo the wardrobe ladies out of the room.

“Since what, Y/N?” he asked.

You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s just me. You can tell me,” Charlie said, putting a steadying hand on your shoulder.

“Well, the last time I was dancing full-time as a student and performer, I thought I was invincible. I danced on an injured knee for a month, and then the night of an important showcase, I collapsed on stage, and had to be taken for knee surgery,” you said, getting emotional in the process of remembering that night.

Charlie visibly winced. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. My knee is all but fine now, but ever since then I just haven’t been interested in performing. Zach coaxed me into teaching for him and I fell in love with it.”

“Well that’s a shame, because the world deserves to see how talented you are.”

You simply rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I wouldn’t have even mentioned it to Kenny if I didn’t think you could do a good job.”

You gave him a look as if to say “Really?”

“I swear. Now how about it?” he asked, standing up and offering you a hand. You didn’t even remember sitting down.

Taking a deep breath, you motioned for Charlie to call the costume ladies back in.

As you went through the motions of getting measured and then doing hair and make-up, your faint scar was barely brought to attention except for to cover it with some make-up.

All too soon the costume was ready and the wig was carefully on, and it was time to go get ready.

Tori was waiting for you outside hair and make-up, and the three of you walked to the set.

With every step you felt yourself getting more anxious.

Seeming to sense this, Charlie put an arm around you and said “You’re gonna do great, Y/N.”

“Yes you are. And thank you for doing this on such short notice.” Tori echoed.

You gave both of them a small smile as you walked up to the stage where you would be filming.

You went to join your fellow dancers, who all greeted you.

“Do we have time to do a quick stretch Tori?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah of course,” she replied cheerily. “That’s a great idea.”

“Kenny!” she called. “Can we have 10 minutes to stretch and then run through the number once before we get rolling?”

“I’m setting a timer, but yes.” the man said.

“Great!” she said, giving him two thumbs up.

“Y/N, you wanna lead us through a quick stretch out and then Savannah and I will lead us through the dance.”

“Sure,” you said, happy to have something to focus on.

You fell into it naturally, using a routine you used with your students.

It made Charlie smile to see you so clearly in your element.

Kenny’s timer went off right as you had finished your run through.

“Positions people. We’re doing this full out with Owen too.”

The blonde boy perked up when he heard his name, nodding at the director.

You took a deep breath and shook out your nerves.

“‘All Eyes On Me,’”Kenny called, doing the slate board to signal the start of the take. “Let’s roll.”

Once you were off to the races, it came easy. Except for the whole “having to pretend Owen wasn’t there” part. That took a bit of getting used to.

Charlie’s eyes were glued to you whenever the camera wasn’t on him, which earned him some teasing from his cast mates.

What felt like an hour turned out to be 4 or so before Kenny called wrap on the scene.

“You did great, Y/N,” Charlie said, stopping you on your way to get changed.

“Thanks,” you replied, smiling at him.

You were halfway to your destination when Charlie stopped you again. Based on how out of breath he sounded, you assumed he had run to catch up with you.

“Hey, Y/N, there was something I wanted to ask you.” the boy said, his normally energetic demeanor gone.

“What’s up, Gillespie?” you asked.

“Well...I was wondering if you might want to go to dinner sometime...with me?” he asked, appearing to you to be bashful.

After getting over your initial shock, you asked “Like a date?”

“W-well, I-I mean it doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be but I would like it to be but only if you would.” he rushed out, tripping over his words.

“Relax, Gillespie. I would love that.”

You both beamed at each other until Charlie got a text.

“They’re asking for me,” he said, seeming apologetic.

“Go. I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I’ll text you later about our date?” he asked.

“Sounds good. Now go!” you replied, nudging him back in the direction of set.

After you were sure that he was out of sight, you skipped back to your car.

Little did you know he was doing a happy dance of his own. His friends whooping and hollering when they saw his facial expression.

You called Zach when you got back to car and told him everything. He relented that that was an okay excuse for leaving in the middle of a class.

You were on Cloud 9, and nothing could bring you down.

Taglist: @i-love-daniel-seavey @deni-gonzalez​

[penninstitute]

Case #0120701

Statement of Kenneth Summerfield, regarding a mirror found in his late grandfather’s attic. Original statement given July 1st, 2012.

Have you ever had to clean out a relative’s home after they’re gone? I hadn’t, personally, not until my Pa, Jamie Summerfield, passed away last year. I’m not sure why I’m coming to you about this now--the mirror’s long gone, for one thing, and I don’t particularly care about it anymore, for another, so I guess that’s just another mystery for you to solve.

He died in March last year. I wasn’t too close with him, he’d always been a bit distant, but I’d been one of the ones that volunteered to go through his house.

He didn’t have very many possessions in most of the house. It was all very minimalist--but the rest of the house isn’t the important part, anyways.

The strange thing at the time had been that in my grandfather’s will, he’d said that only I was to go through the attic. I don’t know why me, and I’m hoping you might be able to help me on that front, because the whole thing that came after was… I don’t know why he chose me to go through all of the things I found.

I finally started on the attic in early August. It was a nice day, with a gentle breeze coming in through the windows, and I pulled down the dusty ladder that led up to the attic and made my way up.

It was a cluttered mess, compared to the rest of the house. Objects and artifacts were scattered across it, boxes of books and random trinkets. Almost immediately, things felt off. I felt like I was being watched and threatened and welcomed all at once. It felt like there were presences there, like there were other things waiting for me in that attic beyond simple trinkets and dusty old books.

There was a box with the word Leitner scribbled across it, just filled with books. There was a note scribbled underneath the Leitner reading “do not read”, underlined several times.

… I will admit, I played it safe and did not read the books. Even just holding them gave me a bad feeling. I donated them all to a local bookstore.

Not gonna lie, there were lots of boxes that I just donated without looking through. Holding them gave me an awful feeling, so there’s a pawn shop in southern Vermont that’s loaded up with potentially haunted artifacts now, I guess. Whoops.

It was weird, mostly because my grandfather just didn’t seem like that kind of person, y’know? Like, you’d think you would know if you knew someone who collected haunted artifacts. Or if you knew someone who believed in the supernatural, at the very least. I honestly would’ve pegged the guy as a skeptic, but he was just full of surprises after his death, I suppose.

The strangest thing, though, was the mirror. It was leaned up against the wall, covered by a heavy cloth, which in turn was covered in dust.

I pulled the cover off to find a large, ornate mirror, with a large crack running from one corner to the other. I wasn’t sure why it was up there, but when I looked at it--I watched more cracks appear when I looked at myself in that mirror. Tiny little things that spiderwebbed from the first crack, leaving it in a sorrier state than before.

I… it was weird. This was weird. I don’t really know what came over me, but suddenly I was just--in that moment, staring at myself in the mirror, I hated myself. I noticed every little flaw, every little thing I despised, between the cracks in that mirror.

I saw things I wanted to forget. I remembered things I would’ve preferred not to remember. The memories were so painful and vivid and I don’t know what caused it, because I was just looking at this mirror with a crack in it, and I felt awful. I… will admit, I started crying, even.

I saw every failure of mine in the cracks of that mirror. Every little thing I so despised.

The upper right corner of the mirror was so cracked you could hardly see a reflection in it. I averted my gaze from the mirror and almost instantly the pressure of the memories and the awful thoughts lifted.

I covered the mirror back up and donated it to that same pawn shop all the other artifacts went to. I didn’t want to look into it much further.

That’s it, really. The house was eventually cleaned out and sold off. I don’t know where that mirror is now, or if it’s even still around, but I hope I never see it again.

ARCHIVIST’S NOTE: Could be a sign of the Fault’s emergence. I should tell Adam and Isabelle to add it as a category for artifact storage and the hunting department. I don’t care what Eszes says about it--it’s clearly going to start showing up like this more often.

FOLLOW-UP NOTES

- A mirror that causes self-deprecation aside, the thing that intrigues me the most about this statement is Natalie Hall’s note at the end of it. Looking through employee records, I found that at the time of this statement, Adam Hawthorne and Isabelle Zellweger were the heads of artifact storage and the hunting department, respectively. The fact that Natalie refers to them by first name and as though they’re in on whatever the Fault may be is interesting to note.

- As for the Fault, I... have no idea what that is. None of my assistants have any ideas either. I may look for more information on my own time, but it doesn’t seem like it’s something that’s going to be easy to find.

- As for the statement itself, Mr. Summerfield refused to give a follow-up statement. He told us that there was “nothing more to say on the matter,” and we left it at that.

- I’m not sure, but I believe we may have the mirror described in this statement down in artifact storage. I’ll have to speak to Alyssa and see if she has any records for anything like it.

[purplesurveys]

1051

Are you between the ages of 30 & 40? I still have to get through nearly another decade to get to that decade.

What was your favorite Saturday morning cartoon growing up? My favorites were The Wild Thornberrys and Little Bill, both on Nickelodeon. My sister and I also enjoyed this wacky show called The Upside Down Show but it wasn’t a cartoon.

What was your favorite toy as a child? I liked any toy that had a lot of buttons or features within it - dollhouses, kitchen sets, cash registers, toy phones, anything that could make me test how much it could do.

In High School did you wear acid washed jeans? No. It’s not a style I would be drawn to, then and now.

How much was a gallon of gasoline when you first started driving? I don’t know; I never paid much attention to gas prices, honestly.

What was your first car? It’s a 2014 (or 2015?) Mitsubishi Mirage I’m still using today, though it was my dad who paid for it and he’s the one who takes it out for oil changes and stuff.

Who taught you how to drive? My dad taught me a few times around the neighborhood, but he also enrolled me for like three classes in a driving school so that I got to learn how to drive in a highway.

What was your high school mascot? Both of my schools didn’t have any. My university does have a nickname for our varsity teams, but we’re simply just ‘Maroons’ and not an animal like what I usually see.

Did you go to your Senior Prom? We had a junior prom, nothing for senior year. I was invited to go to the senior ball in another school by Mike, though. That feels like ages ago; everything is so different now.

What did you do after graduation? After my high school graduation I went straight to college like most kids here. After graduating college, I immediately started looking for jobs; I landed an internship after a month and got absorbed into the company two months after.

What was your first job? I’m currently working as an associate at a public relations agency. This is my first job and for now, I’m content in staying in this career. This is where I set out to be when I was in college and I don’t feel the need to change paths any time soon.

What did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be an astronaut more than anything else, but I remember also wanting to be a firefighter or a vet.

Any posters on your bedroom walls growing up? I had a handful of wrestling posters that my mom was never a fan of. It was never her business since it’s my room, but she always made it the case.

Do you remember the first time you drank a beer? It may have been at Marielle’s debut, five Julys ago. She served beer at the afterparty of her 18th birthday party, and I think I had taken my first sip then.

Did you ever try cigarettes? Yeah, I started this year actually. I’m about to reach my first anniversary of trying my first cigarette :/ I don’t have a lot of them though and I haven’t smoked since like February or March, I think.

How did you spend your summers growing up? At home. My parents were always busy with work, so I had no choice but to myself occupied at home. Luckily I had siblings and cousins, so we were always playing with each other. My summers were never productive until I was in college, when I started making the effort to go out more.

If you could change anything from your teenage years, would you? Ahh idk man I wish I wouldn’t have spent as much time by the computer as I did, and maybe hang out with friends or something instead. < Yeah this hits the bullseye pretty much. I was a very introverted teenager. Not to mention the internet and social media started to blow up during my tween/early teenage years, so I was hooked to my laptop and kept people away as a result. I didn’t start feeling like a teenager until I was 16, when I gained friends and got invited to more stuff.

Do you remember your first time? Yeah, it was during one of my 18th birthday celebrations and she was around.

Ever look back and wish some things were still the same? I do it a lot these days. I do try to stop, because I don’t know what I can gain out of doing so anymore, and because there’s always the danger of being left behind from looking back too much; but most days I can’t help it.

After high school - straight to college or straight to work? University, because you kinda need that credential where I live. It’s unfair, but it’s our reality.

How much did you make per hour at your first job? We don’t really calculate that here...I’ll try to do math for y’all lmao aka Google it, which says I make $2.34 an hour. Wow when you put it that way, it really does not sound high :/ I’m honestly okay with my pay though. I live with my parents so I contribute to the bills and stuff now, but even then there’s more than enough left for me. Favorite home-cooked meal growing up? My grandma’s kare-kare. It was/is always reserved for special occasions; and out of all her grandchildren I was also the one who got attached to the dish especially as I got older, so eventually kare-kare also became the family’s ‘Robyn is coming over so we better prepare this’ dish. I think I’m her only grandchild that she has an allotted dish for, so that makes me feel special :)

Favorite place to eat out growing up? The local Burger King, back when it had a play place for kids. 

Did your parents live in a different country before you were born?: No, they have always lived in the Philippines. My mom has always wanted to migrate but my dad shoots it down every time.

Do you have a preferred coffee brand?: When it comes to coffee, no. I wanna try out everything. But when it comes to coffee shop ambience, Starbucks all the way.

Have you ever dated someone who was terrible with money?: No. I remember Gab as always being very cautious, responsible, and conscious about money. Her parents sustained her debit card and I’m pretty sure they always gave her a little bit extra, but she never took more than her weekly allowance from the ATM.

If so, how did it affect the relationship?: Money was never an issue, mostly because the money we received during the course of our relationship wasn’t even ours lol; we both received set allowances from our parents. If one of us was running out of cash, we never hesitated to cover for each other first, and we never pressured one another to pay back immediately.

How often do you paint your nails?: Never. 

Do you know anyone who's related to a current or former world leader?: Yeah, I went to high school with a relative of Duterte. She’s super secretive about it, which is pretty understandable. I’m friends with/went to classes with people who are grandchildren of senators and other politicians as well.

Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional?: ...I have no idea how to do that...I always just assumed it’s already taken care of when a part of my salary is deducted lol. I may have to ask my parents about this, whoops.

What is something you don't have any natural talent for?: Anything to do with music. Reading it, playing it, singing, writing songs, etc. Also art and anything to do with creativity.

Did you watch this year's Eurovision?: Ah, my favorite time of the year to mute all my overseas mutuals on Twitter at one point lmao. No, I never caugtht up with it.

Have there been any periods in your life that could be described as being chaotic?: Senior year was a big chaotic war zone. The death of my grandpa and my first breakup coincided with all the crucial college entrance exams. Speaking of college, it was also a period of a lot of heavy decision-making due to me having to make choices of what course I wanted to take in every school I applied to. I barely cried during those few months and it still shocks me to this day how I did it. That was the most I’ve been on autopilot.

What is something you frequently forget?: Where I place my car keys and/or glasses last.

If I looked in your fridge right now, what would I find?: Bread, eggs, a bunch of condiments, butter cheese, vegetables, leftovers, and the grazing box I received from my workplace yesterday. I’m sure there’s more, but I haven’t really stopped and stared at our fridge for a while now.

How do you feel about your body?: I used to feel fairly confident about it; like it was never an issue with me. But truthfully, after being dumped, I’ve started to feel insecure over everything about me.

Who is someone you would like to get to know better?: My teammates at work, Bea and Ysa. They both seem like cool and funny people both in and out of work, and I’d love to get to hang out with them.

If you had to move to a new city, where would you move?: Idk, just somewhere with a lot of opportunities to try new things and meet new people.

Have you ever traveled on a double-decker train?: Nope. I’ve never been on anything double-decker, if I remember correctly.

What's your opinion on assisted suicide?: [trigger warning] I’ve looked into it, but it’s a dead end where I live. That’s all I’ll say, as I don’t want to give others ideas.

At what point do you consider a relationship to be 'long-term?': Fuck if I know anymore. We reached six years and it was a point where I was comfortable and didn’t feel the need to doubt anymore; everything turned out to be a lie in the end. I don’t know anymore. I don’t think about these things anymore.

What jobs did your parents have when you were growing up?: My dad has always been a chef, so he went through all the ranks throughout my childhood until he finally got an executive position when I was in high school. I remember my mom being a receptionist.

Do they still have these jobs? Or different jobs? Or have they retired?: My dad is still in that career path but he doesn’t cook in the kitchen anymore, or at least as much as he used to. He does all the menu planning, evaluating, etc. My mom has shifted to becoming an executive secretary, but she’s still in the hotel industry.

Do you own any winter sports equipment?: I don’t. There’s no reason for me to have any.

Do you have a cell contract plan, or are you on a pre-paid plan?: Prepaid.

Would your parents be okay with you dating someone of another race? I can definitely see my mom reacting, but I know she knows I won’t let her get away with saying anything mildly offensive. My dad would just go on with his life and will care more about the fact that I’m seeing someone, lol.

Do you like when friends stop by unexpectedly? No. Schedule it ahead and let me know. I’m not always mentally okay and them showing up as a surprise might just make me more stressed than grateful.

Where are the following people and what are they doing: mom, dad, sibling(s), best friend, significant other, ex, and last person you kissed? My entire family is under the same roof in their bedrooms, either sleeping or having just woken up. Angela is in Parañaque, probably at a cousin’s place; no significant other; I have no idea where my ex, and also the last person I kissed, is. She doesn’t really have anything to do with me anymore.

How strong are your feelings for the last person you kissed? They’re there. I’d still take a bullet for them if it comes down to it, the usual shit. Let’s move on.

What was the last thing someone else bought for you? My workplace gave me a grazing box as the company Christmas gift.

If your parents looked in your purse/book bag would they find anything you don’t want them to see? What about your bedroom? Do you have anything hidden in there? My vape pens. I came home from Starbucks last weekend and my mom thought my breath smelled like cigarettes and she almost got super pissed until I was able to convince her the only thing I put in my mouth was coffee, so I know my 22 year old, employed, self-earning ass would for sure still get in trouble if I was discovered to be vaping.

How close are you to the last person you hung out with? Can you be your complete self around them? It was the first time I met them and they are also my bosses, so I can’t exactly be my complete self around them yet. I had to act super reserved and to essentially make a good impression first before I start whipping out my jokes or whatever.

If you decided to call your ex right now, do you think he/she would answer? How would the conversation go? No, she’d reject it and tell me to text instead. If she was feeling snappy she would also tell me I’m no longer in the place to contact her that way. Sigh. Who is she anymore and why is she so different from the person I was with?

Are you attracted to the last person you exchanged numbers with? No.

Is music a daily part of your life? It’s not. Videos, more like.

Yellow nail polish: yes or no? Bright or neon yellow is a no, but I suppose more muted shades like mustard yellow can work for me.

What do you think of country music? Eh, not a fan. I would skip it in a second, and I never think about it.

Have you ever ended a relationship but wish you could’ve kept it a little longer? I’ve never ended a relationship.

Did you go to your high school’s graduation? Yes...that’s not an event I would’ve wanted to miss out on lol. That was a nice day. My grandparents came to watch me, and we had dinner at a revolving restaurant after.

If you could live the last three months over again, is there anything you’d change? Everything went to shit exactly three months ago, so this hits home very hard for me. Yes, I would change a lot of things for life not to have gone the way it has.

Who was the last person to message you on Facebook? What would you do if that person told you they have feelings for you? My mom. I would be creeped out and tell my dad immediately.

How did you feel when you woke up today? Melancholic.

Who was the first person you talked to today? What did you talk about? I haven’t talked to anyone yet today. I was thinking of replying to Aliyah’s comment on my Facebook post, but in the end I didn’t think a response was necessary.

When you apply your make-up, do you do it in a specific order? I don’t wear makeup.

Did you do anything sexual last night? No.

Do you think the last person you Facebook messaged is a virgin? She has three children, me included.

Did any of your friends lose their virginity before they were 16? If so, did you feel pressured to do the same? I don’t think my friends did, but I probably know other people who did. My baby asexual ass definitely didn’t feel the pressure. I was even scared shitless for my first kiss when it came time for it and I had kept putting it off that night.

Has someone of the opposite sex made you smile today? No.

Does it matter to you if your significant other smokes? With my previous relationship, it did in the beginning; eventually I just stopped caring.

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? I think it may have been Andrew.

Do you like where you are in life right now? No. I don’t know if a new year would make it better, or if it would help give me a healthier mindset. I just have to wait and see.

Do you hate it when there is a fly around you? Very much.

Is your mom overbearing? She can be.

Is there snow where you live? Never.

[leahxx129]

Fun Fact (Steve Rogers X Reader)

Okay, this one’s for the lovely @waiting4inspiration​ ‘s #staysafestayhomechallenge, my prompt can be found in bold. This is my second fic ever posted on here, but I hope you enjoy it. :) 

Summary: Fun fact: when you’re dying, your life does flash before your eyes. Well, not all of it of course, just the snippets that actually made it worth living. For you this means four memories that portray different stages of your relationship with Steve Rogers.

Warnings: angst, a little bit of smut, character death

Word count: 3.567

When you arrived in the middle of the battle that was raging on in Wakanda, Natasha, Okoye and Wanda were struggling to fight Proxima Midnight. You hit her with a ball of blue fire to aid your friends, and she stumbled back hard.

“How dare you?!” she screamed.

Your only response was another ball, but this time it was a bigger one. It caught her with such force and velocity that she flew against a Thresher and got shredded to pieces.

“Steve’s in the forest with Thanos!” Natasha shouted knowingly.

You ran into the woods as fast as possible and the scene playing out in front your eyes was gut-wrenching. Steve had the upper hand, but he was undeniably struggling, and it was a matter of seconds before he’d lose his advance. A blue blast coming from you sent Thanos crashing into a nearby tree.

“Y/N!” Steve uttered your name, but you couldn’t be bothered.

You appeared in front of Thanos in just a fraction of time and disabled him with the fire. You could hear voices all around you, coming from various people – Thanos bellowing, Steve demanding you to stop, Bucky telling him to flee – but you ignored all of them and closed your eyes, feeling the blue fire rise.

Fun fact: when you’re dying, your life does flash before your eyes. Well, not all of it of course, just the snippets that actually made it worth living. For you this meant four memories.

You clearly envisioned the day you met Earth’s most exclusive redheaded spy alongside with the man who awakened feelings in you that you yourself didn’t even know you were capable of experiencing.

It was a humid hot day in July, your short-sleeved yellow uniform and red apron stuck to your body in all the wrong places, making you feel uncomfortable. You took in a sharp breath as your bandaged palms came in contact with the plates you were supposed to deliver to table 3 and put them down in an instant.

“Hey Mike! I am so sorry, but I just don’t think I can wait tables today… how ‘bout I take up all the orders and you bring them out?” you called out to your co-worker.

“What’s in it for me?” he furrowed his brows.

“I’ll buy you coffee.”

“So, it’s a date, right?” a grin formed on his freckled, yet handsome face.

“No, Mike. It’s coffee.”

“So, it’s a coffee date?”

“Nope, only coffee, Mike. No date. I’ll buy you one in the morning and just give it to you when I arrive.”

There was a moment of silence and his grin turned into a small smile.

“You know you’re lucky you’re hot and I’d do anything for you, free coffee or not.” he said picking up the plates and disappeared.

The diner was packed, a loud buzz filled the place as everybody was talking simultaneously. Having spotted a raised hand, you hurried over to get the order. Sure, your palms hurt holding a notepad and a pen, too, but remotely not as much as when you picked up those full plates.

“Welcome to Pop’s Diner, what can I get you?” you recited without even as much as sparing a glance at the consumers.

“A conversation would be nice.”

Your eyes immediately shot to the speaking man and his companion and widened in shock.

“Oh my God! You… you’re…” you felt the heat rise in your cheeks as you tried putting together a coherent sentence and failed.

“It’s okay, don’t be nervous.” the read headed woman smiled kindly. “I’m Agent Natasha Romanoff and this is Captain Steve Rogers. We’re here on behalf of Nick Fury.” she continued on, making you gasp loudly.

“We’d just like to talk, that’s all. Would you mind sitting down for a second?” Rogers chipped in.

You opened your mouth to protest since you were working after all, but promptly decided against it and sat down across them. When Captain America asks you to sit down, you sit down.

“May I… May I inquire what this conversation is in relation to?” you cleared your throat.

“Your palms.” Rogers stated calmly. He flashed you a smile what you assumed was supposed to be reassuring, but all he managed to do was make you even more flustered.  

“My palms…? Wha- what about them?”

“It seems like you had burned them pretty badly.”

“Uhm, yeah. I was cooking and I didn’t realize how hot the pot was until it was too late.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Agent Romanoff took out her phone and placed it in front of you on the table. A security camera footage started to play and after a few second there you were, making your way through the diner’s parking lot a day ago. When you got to your car, a man pressed you hard against its side. A short grapple ensued and two minutes in an intense light emerged from your palms, making the stranger fall to the concrete. He was weltering on the ground, touching his own face and you just stood there. Satisfied. After a while you got in your car and drove off. The video stopped.

“Wanna re-think that answer?” she asked.

You didn’t even realize that a couple of tears escaped until they made their way down your face. You wiped them away furiously with the back of your hand. You winced when she called you by your name since you didn’t remember introducing yourself, but you shouldn’t have been surprised – you were convinced that by then S.H.I.E.L.D probably even knew what your favorite color was.

“Look, we have no idea what we witnessed on that tape and that’s one thing we’d like to know-”

“Well then that makes three of us…” you cut in bitterly. “ ’Cause I don’t even know what that was… Just to be clear, I did not want to melt that man’s face off even though he attacked me. I just felt threatened, and when I get angry or feel like I’m in danger, this incredibly cold sensation swipes trough me and just... wants to surface. By the time it reaches my palms it’s so cold, it burns… It burns right through my skin and looks like blue fire.”

Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers exchanged a quick glance and the latter started off to Pop’s office.

“Where’s he going?” you asked in panic.

“He’s handing your boss your resignation.”

“What??”

“Relax, душенька. I think you’re gonna like your new job better than this. But first, you’ve got a lot to learn.” she smirked in response.

The second scene playing before your eyes was about the night you and Steve kissed for the very first time.

You won the battle of New York. At a painstakingly high price paid in body-count, but you’ve won it, nevertheless. The city slowly started to revive again and tried getting back to the old routine, but deep down everybody knew that would never happen. The harsh reality that Earth wasn’t the only populated planet and that humans were not the only superior beings in the universe settled in every heart and mind and there was no way of changing that.

Stark of course felt like the victory was something to celebrate so he threw a rather extravagant party in the Stark Tower. You tried to enjoy it, you really did, but you didn’t succeed in doing so. The music struck as too loud and all the drunk people soon became annoying instead of entertaining. Consequently, you grabbed your half-empty glass of whiskey and headed up to the roof top to get a breath of fresh air. The cold gusts of wind felt wonderful against your skin.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that, Rogers. I almost threw a blue fire ball in your face.” you said without turning back. He chuckled softly and strolled to your side.

“Sorry, I just had to get away from the crowd. Plus, Stark’s hammered and he insisted on teaching me how to dance. I don’t think I’m ready for that tonight. Or ever will be.”

You didn’t notice how captivated he was when a genuine laughter ripped out of you.

“And here I was, thinking you deliberately followed me up here to finally get me alone.” you looked him in the eyes, smiling.

“You wish, doll.” his expression mirrored yours.

Your heart began racing as his face started to inch closer to yours. Your lips almost touched when a loud noise made you jump apart – courtesy of a very drunk Tony Stark trying to open the exit door with an equally drunk bimbo on his side.

“Whoops…” he said, then went on “… what was I saying? Oh, yes, sweetie, you can totally see Asgard from here. You just have to squint a little, then concentrate real hard and-”

Steve cleared his throat to make your presence known before Tony did something neither of you wanted to see.

“Rogers! Y/N! What are you two doing here? Oh, wait- did he… did he confess to you already?” he asked, looking straight in your eyes.

“Confess what?”

“Stark. Please stop talking. Now.” Steve’s voice was laced with nervousness, but Tony being Tony, did not stop talking.

“That he’s got a thing for you, Darling.” he informed you, then turned to Steve “Ugh, for God’s sake, Rogers, just kiss her already! Because if you won’t, I will!”

“Hey!” the bimbo screamed, clearly offended and went back to the building. A second later when Tony realized what happened he rushed after her shouting he didn’t mean it; he was just trying to motivate a friend. Or maybe he meant it a little, but just a little. Then all the noise died out.

“Soooo… you have a thing for me?” you spoke up after what seemed like an eternity of silence.

“Yes. I do. Although I planned on presenting it to you a bit differently.” he admitted.

“I see. Since it’s confession time, can I tell you something, too?”

“Sure thing, doll.”

You closed the distance between the two of you and stood on your tiptoes.

“I’ve got a thing for you as well, Steve…” you whispered in his ear.

He cupped your face and crashed his lips against yours in response. He did not like booze at all, but if anyone asked what his favorite was, he said whisky, because that’s what he tasted on your tongue that night.

Another clip of your life you were seeing was about the first time Steve made love to you.

You entered your room after a mission gone a bit sideways, exhausted to an extent that’s impossible to describe and with bruises and cuts covering the majority of your body. Steve stormed in just seconds after and slammed the door shut so hard it almost broke off its hinges. His beautiful face was hardened by anger and those blue eyes that often reminded you of the peaceful sea promised storm.

“What the hell was that?!” he demanded in a raised tone.

You sat down in front of your boudoir table and started peeling of your shredded suite very carefully.

“Answer me!” he shouted when he realized you had no intention of getting into an argument with him.

“Well, Cap, we went on a mission that in the end required some prompt, unplanned decisions on our side and I made them. Mission turned out successful. End of story. Is oral summary sufficient or would you like me to hand it in in written format?”

“Don’t “Cap” me, doll. And the attitude won’t bring you any closer to the end of this conversation…” he warned a little bit calmer, but still with a shaking voice.

“I’m sorry, Steve, I just don’t see what your problem is.”

You finished getting out of the top part and stood up to get done with the bottom, visibly struggling. With a couple of quick steps Steve appeared in front of you and tore it apart. You wore nothing but your underwear.

He then grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes.

“My problem is every single bruise on your body that’s not supposed to be there. Every single cut. Every single wound. Just because you learned how to use the blue fire without getting burnt it doesn’t mean you should use it excessively. I saw the effect it had on you today, don’t think I didn’t. For a split second it appeared as if it was consuming you from the inside…”

“Steve, if I hadn’t overdriven myself a little today, some of our greatest agents would’ve died. And I could not take that risk.” you said with gritted teeth. Tears started to sting your eyes, but you held them back.

“Well, I could! You know what risk I cannot take?! Losing you, doll.”

“I’m sorry…” you said in a small voice without a beat. Apologizing was not your genre, but the realization of how much Steve cared for you just dawned upon you. A mix of emotions took over you – you felt immensely loved, but at the same time, you were scared. “I gotta go take a shower. Will be back in no time.”

You slipped out of his grasp and let the tears flow as you closed the bathroom door behind you. Having stripped your underwear, you stepped into the shower and started cleansing yourself. You hoped the hot water would wash away the shame and guilt you felt, not just the dried blood and dirt. You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you jumped a little when Steve opened the shower cabin door.

“Oh my God, you scared me!” but he didn’t say a word.

He pushed you against the cold shower wall and kissed you violently, while his hands explored every curve of your body. It took all your willpower to break the kiss.

“Steve, do you really want our first time to be shower sex?” you asked panting.

“It doesn’t matter where we are, doll. I love you and I want you.” he growled, kissing down your neck.

Every fiber in your body ached in protest, but you ignored them. You ran your nails down his back as he put his hands under your thighs and gently lifted you up. A moan escaped you mouth when he entered you and slowly started moving. Steve swore it was the most beautiful sound in the whole goddamn universe. It was not long before the tension started building up in your body and having noticed this, he picked up the pace. You’d never moaned anyone’s name during orgasm before, but Steve was the only exception. He reached his bliss second later.

“On second thought, shower sex was just great for a first time.” you said, and he chuckled. “Where did you, uh, where did you hear about it?”

“Uhm, do you remember the mission like eight months ago when Stark and I got stuck on a desert island for six days?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, turns out, Stark opens up quite easily about his sensual experiences…”

“Noo. No way!” you laughed as you stepped out of the shower and started drying your hair with a towel.

“Yes way.” Steve followed you and took over the towel to dry your hair. “I also heard about other stuff, but those require a bed.” he smirked suggestively.

“In that case it’s a good thing I happen to own one.” you kissed his lips and wished that day would never end.

The last memory could not have been any clearer and it was breaking your heart all over again.

It was no question who’s side you were on when the civil war between Tony and Steve broke out… You got used to the life being on the run with Steve, Natasha and Sam in no time, although you still missed the others as well. They were the closest thing to a family you’ve ever had, and the rupture pained you badly at times. When Steve decided to collect the rest to unite in the fight against the greatest threat that ever endangered the universe, you were glad. You never knew how this beginning would mean the end of your relationship.

The first avengers Steve decided to recruit were Wanda and Vision in Europe, and frankly, you got there just in time. There’s a chance that a couple of minutes later there would’ve been no one to recruit… Your heart skipped a beat when you realized who you were up against, but you couldn’t allow yourself to ponder – lives were on the line. You helped Natasha stab Glaive and when Proxima Midnight grabbed your shoulder and turned you in her direction to deliver a punch, her fist froze mid-air.

“Y/N?” she asked uncertainly, but you didn’t answer. Sam flew in and kicked her to Glaive’s side. “Your father will hear about this, I promise.” she threatened before vanishing in blue light.

Everybody was panting, the fight exhausted all of you. Other than that, no sound could be heard.

“What was she talking about, doll?” Steve spoke up finally, asking the question everyone was dying to hear the answer to.

You all boarded the Quinjet, but you and Steve went to a separate cabin to discuss matters first.

He didn’t shout. He didn’t hit you or try to kill you on spot, though you were absolutely certain you would’ve deserved it. He just sat there. Quietly. He didn’t utter a word while you were telling him that you, in fact, were not human. You were a member of a species called ‘Inhuman’, which was the result of mixing Kree genes with human ones, and this is the reason why you possess the blue fire. He didn’t say a thing while you were telling him that as a child, Thanos snatched you and brought you up as his own daughter alongside two other girls, Nebula and Gamora, and turned the three of you into the most feared assassins in the entire galaxy. His mouth stayed shut while you were telling him that coming to Earth was a mission ordered by Thanos to gain intel on what was going on here and you were deemed fit for it as you looked like humans.

“But I stopped delivering information years ago, Steve! Do you know why? Because I fell in love with you! And because I realized the error of my father’s ways! He lied to me throughout my entire life and manipulated me into believing his false ideology! Steve? Please, say something, Steve…”

“Leave.”

You were not sure if the word echoed in the room or was it just your own mind.

“What?”

“I said, leave.” he stood up. There was no sign of fury on his face. Only disappointment. You didn’t move, so he continued.

“You were the very first woman I loved after Peggie, which I thought would be impossible for a long-long time… I loved you, Y/N. You saved me in more than one way, and after the war I wanted to settle down with you. Start a family. But you know this damn well, for fuck’s sake… And now it turns out I never even knew you…”

“But Steve, you knew me, in fact, you know me!” you interrupted with a cracking voice.

“No, doll, I didn’t. And I don’t.”

You ran up to him and cupped his face, but he refused to look at you. Your palms were wet from the tears he shed. He peeled your hands off him slowly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, I could never do that. But I want you to leave. I don’t care who’s side you’ll fight on in this war or if you decide to sit it out, just whatever you do, stay away from me. God, I can’t even look at you, Y/N.”

You couldn’t stop the sobs surfacing from your chest.

The flashback scenes stopped, and the blue fire was burning more than ever inside of you. Steve had been right all those years ago… if you overdrove yourself, it would consume you from the inside and everything else in your immediate proximity, too. But if this was the only way of defeating your father and saving the universe, so be it. Suddenly, numbness took the place of pain and you subjected to it.

A high number of people showed up to your funeral organized at Tony’s lake house. Everybody placed a white rose on top of your empty casket and expressed their condolences to Steve, but he wasn’t paying attention at all. He tried to, really hard, but he just couldn’t. Tony was the last person to go there and place his rose.

“You know Rogers, I’ve never been one to sugarcoat things and I’m not gonna lie this time, either.” he said, his words making Steve look him in the eyes. “From what I hear… If you had kept your mouth shut, she’d still be here… At least there’s a high chance for that. But there’s also a high chance that half of the fucking universe wouldn’t. Respect her choice... That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Respect your choice... These three words became Steve’s mantra – the first thing that came to his mind in the morning, and the last at night. They were the glue that kept the pieces of his heart together just enough to function as a human being.

[artistjojo1228]

Rock and Roll Storytime #9: The Decline and Early Death of Brian Jones (including details I’ve found through personal research)

It was a cool spring morning when, while I was goofing off in art class, I got the bright idea to try writing about the 27 Club for one of those YouTube documentaries. The plan was simple: I was going to talk about Robert Johnson, Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Mia Zapata, Kurt Cobain, Kristen Pfaff, Amy Winehouse, and Anton Yelchin, seven because of being the “Tragic Seven” and the other three because I found their stories interesting (I actually first heard of the club not long after Anton’s death). 

And then, in about as much time as it took for me to come up with that idea, I went from being obsessed with Kurt Cobain to being obsessed with Brian Jones. Most likely, in my opinion, because of the mysterious circumstances surrounding his early death. I guess, in a way, all it took was me hearing that there were conspiracies saying he’d been murdered to convince me to look into his story. After all, very early on in my Nirvana obsession, I went through a regretful phase where I believed Kurt had been murdered. I didn’t want to make a similar assumption again. 

What I’m trying to say, is that this will be about Brian’s ousting from the band he created, his death on the night of July 2, 1969, and the steps I took to figure out what the hell happened. 

By mid-May, I’d already come up with my first theory: that Brian had an asthma attack and drowned as the result of that. Around this time, I learned that Brian: a, had a sister, Pamela, who’d died at the age of two from leukemia (he was just three), and b, within the next year, he suffered a severe bout of croup that left him with lifelong asthma. While I was researching in the usual way I do, I’d also heard that chlorine can trigger asthma attacks or allergic reactions, especially when there is organic material in the pool (e.g. sweat).  However, it wasn’t until September that I stumbled upon Brian’s autopsy report, so until that point, I’d had little to no idea that the coroner ruled out an asthma attack. Even then, I’d already been hearing my fair share of complaints that the autopsy report was perfunctory, so I’d just made the assumption that the coroner had somehow missed that if it had happened that way.  

I don’t know why my early perspective started changing. I just know that the one constant was that I refused to believe that Brian was murdered (sitting through Stoned on May 31, 2019, certainly didn’t help matters). 

Throughout, I began to learn of Brian’s life story, and how he eventually found himself kicked out of the very band he brought to life. 

In short, Brian used to play in jazz clubs, and it was on April 7, 1962, that Mick Jagger and Keith Richards saw the young blonde calling himself “Elmo Lewis” play slide guitar on stage for the first time (one of the first Britons to master it, through no small amount of effort). In May 1962, Brian placed an ad for musicians in a local newspaper, and was shortly thereafter joined by Ian Stewart, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Dick Taylor, and Tony Chapman. In December 1962, Taylor was replaced by Bill Wyman, and in January 1963, Charlie Watts replaced Tony Chapman. There’s also how the band got their name, but I’d prefer to save that for another storytime. 

What I should probably talk about instead, is where the first cracks started to form in this partnership. 

See, when the Rolling Stones were on tour in October 1963, it was revealed that Brian had an arrangement with the financial advisor, Eric Easton, which basically stated that Brian, as leader of the group, would receive five pounds more than everyone else (this equates to $137.30 today). Everyone else, who was under the impression that they were all earning the same amount of money from each gig, was kind of pissed about it, and maybe rightfully so. However, I don’t see why this should be enough for Mick and Keith to uphold a fifty-six-year-long grudge that includes what is essentially damnatio memoriae, but I guess that’s their business. But keep in mind, Bill Wyman has since stated that, at that time, they were earning 193 pounds per week at this point (roughly $1,963.75 in today’s money). That’s only seven percent of the band’s total income at that point. It still seems like a stupid reason to me for Mick and Keith to still be getting on Brian’s case for something like that fifty-six years later (and before anyone says anything, yes, I know there’s more to it than that, but it’s stupid that it all started with five pounds).  

Going back to my personal search for answers for a moment or two, it was now June 2019, and I was also starting to look into the murder theory, if only for posterity. I remember vividly being on a trip to France and accidentally convincing one of the girls on the trip that Brian had been murdered when I was telling her about him. 

Erm... whoops. 

Even so, in that one brief moment, I allowed myself to entertain that possibility. After all, most of the sources I was reading at that point were all saying that Brian’s death had probably been manslaughter, if not murder, and what was definitely consistent was that the witness reports weren’t consistent, and it just seemed easier to believe that. After all, Brian’s death was suspicious enough, so why not?

Easier...

It only took a day or two for me to remind myself why I had refused to believe it for this long: because of my regrets in believing Kurt had been murdered, and because I no longer wanted to take the easy route. 

If I was going to say Brian was murdered, without a shred of doubt, I had to do more research. 

And now for part two of Brian’s Jones’ slow decline: his relationship with Anita Pallenberg and the subsequent fallout from it. Now, Brian and Anita met on September 14, 1965 (my grandmother’s seventh birthday) after a Rolling Stones concert in Munich. The two apparently found an instant connection, thanks to Brian’s ability to speak German (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5N-O8_eB34). However, the relationship afterwards was very much mutually abusive. Keith said in his autobiography that he would sometimes see Brian with a black eye, and in September 1966, Brian broke his wrist. The “official” story was that Brian broke his wrist in a climbing accident, but other stories suggested that he instead broke his hand during an argument with her when he hit his hand against a metal window frame (though in one more salacious telling I heard, he broke his hand on her face, which doesn’t sound entirely possible to me). 

Meanwhile, he did write and perform the soundtrack for her movie, Mord Und Totschlag (A Degree of Murder), which gives us a rare glimpse into Brian’s extraordinary musical talent and genius. That was probably the only good thing that came out of all this. 

Then of course, in 1967, Keith’s home, Redlands, was busted, and the Glimmer Twins were charged with various drug offenses. Their lawyers recommended they should get out of the country for a while, so Mick, Keith, Brian, and Anita traveled down to Morocco for a little while. However, in Toulouse, France, Brian became ill with pneumonia, and spent the next few days in the hospital. 

Meanwhile, as Brian was celebrating his 25th birthday in the hospital, Anita and Keith went on ahead of him, and they began seeing each other behind Brian’s back. When Brian was finally able to join the group, he surely noticed the newfound chemistry between Keith and Anita, especially considering Keith wasn’t very confident around the ladies at this point in time. He knew he was losing Anita, and apparently, he welcomed the confrontation. In mid-March, 1967, he paid for the services of two “Berber whores,” and when Anita returned to the hotel room, he told her to join them in a foursome. Stories vary as to what happened next, what is typically a constant in this story is that she refused. According to Keith, Brian started throwing food at her (apparently, in a fight sometime around then, Anita had broken two of Brian’s ribs and one of his fingers), and she fled out of fear and humiliation. Bill, in his book Stone Alone, alleged that Brian beat her savagely, to the point where she was in fear of her own life. The abysmal movie Stoned just claimed he sexually assaulted her (which, yeah, I don’t believe happened). Whatever happened that night (lord knows, Brian can’t speak for himself), Anita fled to Keith’s room, where he convinced her to leave with him, basically giving her the “You deserve better” speech and saying that Brian might try to kill her if she stayed with him (which also doesn’t seem likely to me, even being fully aware of Brian’s violent streak). 

In either case, the next day, Mick, Keith, and Anita all left Morocco, leaving Brian stranded there for the next two days. Several years after his death, his own father would claim that Anita was the one who broke Brian’s heart and sent him into a fatal downward spiral, but in Paul Trynka’s book, those who knew Brian like Linda Lawrence (mother of Brian’s fourth child) and Stanislaus “Stash” Klossowski (friend of the Stones’) were of the opinion that it had rather been Mick and Keith’s betrayal that had sent Brian into that deadly spiral. 

Personally, I’d say it’s a toss-up

In either case, Brian’s drug and alcohol abuse worsened. 

Meanwhile, some fifty-two years later, it was July 2019. The fiftieth anniversary of Brian’s death had come and gone, and as my first (emotionally abusive) relationship was reaching a long-overdue close, I decided to get Stone Alone in the mail. Naturally, I had a few reasons for being a bit skeptical, not the least of which included the fact that Bill had dated a thirteen-year-old when he was forty-seven (EW), but still, I had to know what he said about Brian, so I decided to get it anyway. As I was flipping through the pages once it’d arrived, I found the account of Brian’s second child, a daughter whom Bill called “Carol.” 

I’d probably heard about how she’d been diagnosed with temporal lobe epilepsy once or twice in the past, but for some reason, I’d refused to consider it. Reading about it this night, something clicked. Thanks to the way Bill explained, it, it seemed plausible enough that, somehow, Brian had never been diagnosed with epilepsy. After all, it can be hereditary, and mental health wasn’t understood very well back then. 

That brings me to major theory #2: Brian had a seizure in the pool the night he drowned, and given that he was alone when he died, this seemed the most likely explanation. 

After all, Brian had punctate hemorrhages in his brain when he drowned. It made sense to me, as Brian must’ve been thrashing around quite a bit in his last few moments alive (punctate hemorrhages are typically found in shaken baby syndrome)

It seemed to me at that time that I finally had an explanation for what happened to Brian Jones, but naturally, I wasn’t done with the search yet. 

Naturally, with everything I read, the search for answers continued on, even though I thought I’d had it all figured out. 

I was trying to write about it for a post I made on Amino, and as I was trying to provide some facts, I remembered that I’d found Brian’s toxicology report not long before then. Looking at it now, I observed the fact that the coroner said that the 1720 micro gms of an amphetamine-like substance found in Brian’s body was likely because of prescription Mandrax. 

Mandrax was the brand name for quaaludes. 

This brings me into major reason #3 for Brian’s decline: his own drug arrests and convictions. I explained this more in another post (https://artistjojo1228.tumblr.com/post/188166689760/rock-and-roll-storytime-6-the-rolling-stones), but I’ll give the skivvy anyway. On May 10, 1967, just as Mick and Keith were being formally charged with drug possession, Brian’s home was raided by police. Although he’d cleaned the place up, police still managed to find a bit of cannabis, and Brian and Stash were arrested. On October 30, 1967, Brian was convicted of cannabis possession and allowing his home to be used for the smoking of cannabis, and was sentenced to a grand total of 12 months in prison and a fine. Apparently, during his night at Wormwood Scrubs, the guards taunted Brian, threatening to cut off his long, blonde locks, which left him quite shaken. He appealed his case, and on December 12, Brian’s sentence was reduced to three years’ probation. 

However, not long after, on May 21, 1968, Brian’s home was raided again, and once more, police found drugs, even though some sources state that Brian was so paranoid about drugs by now, that he wouldn’t even allow friends over if they had so much as prescription pills on them. Brian was found guilty for the second time, but the judge took pity on him, and only fined him, also giving him a stern warning to not end up in court again. 

Once again, in the year 2019, it was September now. I was just starting college, and trying to survive my first semester (not easy when you’re a chronic procrastinator), and one night, while I was browsing the internet, I found Brian’s autopsy report. 

Morbid fact about me, this was far from my first time reading through death certificates and autopsy reports of celebrities. Also, I’d developed a sort of obsession with medicine after Anton Yelchin’s death (to the point where I was considering being a nurse for a while), so I was familiar with the medical jargon used by now. 

So, here we are, major theory #3 and the most likely scenario in this case: Brian, trying to get clean, had relapsed on the sleeping pills he’d been prescribed, and had become incapacitated at some point during the night. 

This wasn’t the catalyst for me believing this, but it most certainly reinforced my theories. 

As I stated earlier, quaaludes were once sold under the brand name Mandrax, and had been prescribed for such things as insomnia and anxiety, both of which Brian likely would’ve had after facing the threat of prison twice. This was also before anyone realized just how addictive quaaludes can be, so there is no doubt that Brian probably relapsed, and took one or several too many sleeping pills that night. 

And now, reason #4 for Brian’s firing from the Stones: his increasingly lacking contributions to their music. 

As time passed, Brian stopped showing up to recording sessions, and when he did show up, he was usually intoxicated to the point where he was unable to contribute. In an interview years later, Mick said that one of Brian’s last major contributions to the Stones’ music was the slide guitar on “No Expectations” from Beggars’ Banquet. It got to the point where, on Let It Bleed, Brian only played on two songs: congas on “Midnight Rambler” and autoharp on “You’ve Got the Silver”.

On neither of those songs does he contain the enormous presence he once had over the Stones’ music. 

I can’t really say why Brian stopped contributing. 

What I can say is what the final nail in the coffin was: Brian’s inability to get a work visa in the United States. 

See, by the summer of 1969, the Stones were planning on going on tour again, but as time passed, it became increasingly obvious that Brian would be unlikely to get a work visa in the United States due to his past drug convictions. 

Even then, Brian just hadn’t been in the studio long enough or sober enough to learn any of the new songs. 

At the suggestion of Ian Stewart (himself demoted unfairly from the Rolling Stones by Andrew Oldham in 1963), Mick and Keith decided they needed a new guitarist (Bill and Charlie had no part in the decision itself). By May 31, 1969, 20-year-old Mick Taylor, formerly of John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, was starting to record with the band. That just left it up to Mick and Keith to resolve the issue with Brian. On June 8, they went over to Brian’s home at Cotchford Farm in Hartfield, Sussex, and told him that he was being fired, bringing Charlie along in case a fight broke out. 

According to some sources, Brian had been expecting this would happen, and agreed to leave the band in either a temporary or permanent split. Mick and Keith left the press statement up to Brian, and possibly to save face, he made it appear as if he’d left the band on his own terms. 

I shared the statement in my post about the Altamont fiasco (https://artistjojo1228.tumblr.com/post/188181237510/rock-and-roll-storytime-8-motherfing-altamont), but I’ll write it out again for those of you who don’t want to go post-hunting: “I no longer see eye to eye with the others over the discs we are cutting. We no longer communicate musically. The Stones’ music is not to my taste any more. The work of Mick and Keith has progressed at a tangent, at least to my way of thinking. I have a desire to play my own brand of music rather than that of others, no matter how much I appreciate their musical concepts. We had a friendly meeting and agreed that an amicable termination, temporary or permanent, was the only answer. The only solution was to go our separate ways, but we shall still remain friends. I love those fellows.”

At the same time, Mick and Keith also released a press statement on the matter, also saying that Brian had left the band, not that he was fired. 

There are so many questions in my mind surrounding what Brian was doing in the last month of his life. Would he really have started another band, or was he, according some who saw him at that time, musically spent? Did Mick and Keith really agree to give Brian a sort of retirement pension, or was that just to tide him over? (Sadly I wouldn’t put it past them). Was he taking a break from music or was he going into an early retirement?

And most important to me, was he really trying to kick the drugs, like so many have said?

So many questions that we’ll never have a proper answer for. 

The only thing that is certain, is that at around midnight on July 3, 1969, Brian Jones was found motionless at the bottom of his swimming pool. 

I guess I’d better back up a bit, and explain the chain of events leading up to that moment. 

Wednesday, July 2, 1969, featured hot, humid air full of pollen, which affected Brian severely, given his asthma. Throughout the day, he was with Anna Wohlin, his Swedish girlfriend, Janet Lawson, a nurse, and Frank Thorogood, a builder who’d been doing work on Brian’s property. It is worth noting that there are many discrepancies between the witness accounts of what happened, up to and including whether or not the parties involved had been drinking (and if so, how much), whether or not the parties involved watched TV, and even who found Brian, lifeless in the pool, and who pulled him out. The most commonly agreed upon version of events was that Brian and Frank decided to go swimming. Anna was reluctant, but was somehow persuaded. Janet, meanwhile, decided to stay out of the pool. After a while, Anna left Brian and Frank there. When Janet last saw Brian, he asked her to grab one of his inhalers, as he was apparently having difficulty breathing. At some point, Frank also left the pool. When Janet returned some time later, she found him at the bottom of the pool, facedown and motionless. Apparently, she ran off to get help (despite being a registered nurse), and eventually, Anna, Frank, and Janet (or at least two of them) managed to pull Brian out of the pool and began resuscitative efforts. Anna later claimed that she felt Brian’s hand briefly grip hers, but to Janet and Frank, he was very clearly dead. Paramedics arrived soon after, and Brian was pronounced dead after midnight on July 3, 1969. 

Based on the small amounts of drugs and alcohol found in Brian’s system at the time of his death, as well as the fact that his heart and liver had been enlarged by substance abuse, his death was ruled as misadventure. 

Naturally, as it would seem whenever someone dies young, conspiracy theories also began to circulate not long after. To make this somewhat easier on myself, I’m just going to start listing some of the theories that have popped up in regards to Brian’s death (note: much of this will be taken from Brian Jones: The Making of the Rolling Stones). 

The most popular of the conspiracy theories states that Brian (who was noted as having mistrusted Frank Thorogood) fired the builder at some point in the 48 hours preceding his death (though, if that were the case, why would he invite him back for a pool party?). After Janet ran off to get Brian’s inhaler, Frank, either in a purposeful act or a bout of horseplay gone wrong, drowned Brian. Not helping Frank’s case is that Tom Keylock alleged that he heard Frank confess to the murder on his deathbed (his daughter has since denied this). Frank’s daughter, Jan Bell, did also claim that her father witnessed an argument between Brian, Mick, and Keith over ownership of the name “Rolling Stones”, during which Keith pulled a knife on Brian (if this did happen, it was likely earlier in the year). Also not helping matters is that after Frank’s death in 1994, Janet and Anna also made their beliefs that Frank was responsible for Brian’s death known (though one of Anna’s friends has since stated that she didn’t start believing Brian had been murdered until later in life). In 2005, this version of events was turned into the movie Stoned, and for those of you who may not have seen my other posts on the subject, I found this movie quite abysmal (”So, I guess you could say this movie... DROWNED on arrival?”)

In 1983, the notion that Brian was murdered first became popularized with Nicholas Fitzgerald’s book Brian Jones: The Inside Story of the Original Rolling Stone. In it, Fitzgerald claimed that Brian had been intending on starting a band with the likes of John Lennon and Jimi Hendrix (those close to Jimi at the time have since dismissed this), and that he and another friend witnessed three men participating in Brian’s murder, and that he had been threatened by someone (likely Keylock) into silence. Most likely, these allegations were used to promote his book, because, you know, there was a real chance for a while that he could’ve been charged with being an accessory to murder after the fact. 

A. E. Hotchner in his book Blown Away: The Rolling Stones and the Death of the Sixties claimed that another two witnesses had seen Brian murdered at a party. It is notable that this story claims that Linda Lawrence had been a witness, and that in the years since, one of the witnesses recanted his testimony as “nonsense.”

Another man, David Gibson, claimed that he had been fitting carpets at Cotchford Farm, and that on the day of the murder, Brian and Anna had been away for most of the day, and when they returned, Brian begged him not to leave. He alleged that Tom Keylock had Brian murdered, and that Princess Margaret had been at Cotchford Farm. Those who believe this will likely also believe that Gibson never came forward because of threats and murder attempts. 

Laura Jackson’s book, Brian Jones, The Untold Life and Mysterious Death of a Rock Legend, also claimed that Brian had been murdered, and this time added the detail that Frank had drugged Brian with a mysterious substance that stumped even seasoned toxicologists, thereby allowing him to hold Brian’s head under the water with no visible signs of a struggle. I don’t know, if it weren’t for those last couple chapters, I’d probably have an easier time recommending this to Brian Jones fans, because I thought it was pretty enjoyable otherwise. 

Geoffrey Giuliano’s book, Paint It Black, alleged that a random guy named “Joe” held Brian’s head underwater for shits and giggles. Last time I checked, that’s not really something people do for shits and giggles. Also, the book claimed that Frank had fled the scene shortly after Brian’s death, despite Frank being noted at the scene when police and paramedics arrived at the scene at 12:10 AM the morning of Brian’s death. 

In 2009, Sam Cutler claimed that private detectives hired by Allen Klein found that Tom Keylock was responsible, citing his attempts to blame Frank, his theft of some of Brian’s belongings, and the fact that he apparently told Janet to conceal the fact that she was his girlfriend at the time. However, in 2013, he expressed doubts as to whether it existed. Seems safe for me to say that this was all a big hoax. 

In general, several conspiracies center around Tom Keylock. The big problem with this though, is that Tom was in London at Olympic Studios on the night Brian died. Still, I think it is safe to say that he probably stole some of Brian’s belongings after he died, at the very least. 

I guess it’s high time I explain one of the big reasons why I always stopped myself from going down that road of believing Brian was murdered (without proper evidence). If Brian was really murdered, and if people did, indeed, witness it, then why the hell didn’t anyone say anything before 1983? I know, I know, some of the theories outright say that the people involved were threatened into silence (Anna claims she was spirited back to Sweden soon after Brian’s death), but even so, I don’t think the people making such threats would’ve had enough sway or power to actually pull off this sort of conspiracy. 

With that in mind, I believe that Brian had an overdose on sleeping pills the night he died, maybe suffering a seizure as well, either from his possible epilepsy and/or as a side-effect of taking Mandrax. Of course, unless Brian is exhumed and a second toxicology report is drawn up that can maybe confirm what was in his system on that fateful night (which is unlikely, due to both the length of time and lack of interest in the case beyond occasional murder theories), there is no way for me to confirm this theory for sure. Besides, either way, there is no way to prove whether he had epilepsy or not. Whilst it is what I believe happened, and does line up with the original verdict of misadventure, I have to keep in mind at the end of the day that this is just me speculating. 

Even so, the story of Brian Jones is one that is fraught with betrayal, hubris, and a path filled with perfectly preventable errors. It’s haunting to think what might have happened if Mick and Keith had been nicer to Brian (or at the very least spoke a bit more praise about him after his death rather than just shit-talk him all the time), or if the effects of drugs had been better understood, or if Brian hadn’t stopped contributing to the Stones’ music, or if someone had been with Brian in the pool when he became incapacitated. 

I’ll be honest, I think the reason I keep coming back to Brian’s story is because of how conflicting his life as a whole was. I’ve seen his life inspire equal parts idolization and vilification, even within myself. 

Because even if Mick and Keith would rather forget, it is my honest belief that more people will continue to find out about Brian, and my hope that they actually take the time to learn about him. 

Sources/Further Readings: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tFfzTzOwQ8&t=4s https://asthma.net/living/swimming-pools-triggers/ Stone Alone by Bill Wyman Life by Keith Richards Brian Jones: The Making of the Rolling Stones by Paul Trynka Up and Down With the Rolling Stones by Tony Sanchez https://clearcomfort.com/why-asthma-allergy-sufferers-should-avoid-chlorine-pools/ http://timeisonourside.com/chron1967.html http://timeisonourside.com/chron1969.html Brian Jones, The Untold Life and Mysterious Death of a Rock Legend by Laura Jackson https://people.com/music/anita-pallenberg-rolling-stones-keith-richards-brian-jones-love-triangle/ https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-lists/the-27-club-a-brief-history-17853/ https://ultimateclassicrock.com/brian-jones-found-dead/ https://ultimateclassicrock.com/brian-jones-murdered/ https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/just-why-was-brian-jones-so-important-to-the-rolling-stones/ https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/obituary-brian-jones-189861/ https://www.denofgeek.com/us/culture/music/281978/the-rolling-stones-and-the-mystery-of-brian-jones-death https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/brian-jones-sympathy-for-the-devil-182761/ https://www.mojo4music.com/articles/15989/brian-jones-it-was-murder http://davidcomfort.org/brian-jones/

[leswansong]

(Late) Ladynoir July: When Tomorrow Comes

Day Ten

[ A03 ]

Word Count: 5K+

AN: I wrote an entire chapter without using the prompt cause I completely forgot about it... WHOOPS.

            Adrien stared up at the medium-sized four-story house. He had faint but distant memories of it. They were all happy ones, he knew that because they filled him with warmth and caused his lips to form into a smile. He couldn’t remember who lived there but he recalled having been there with Chloè and with a boy around his age. He couldn’t have been any older than six when this memory occurred and yet he could remember running around in a large room filled with books. The boy had short shaggy hair and amber eyes and when he listened to his mother's wishes, he wore the glass frames he needed to see.

            The house before him hadn’t been apart of his list, a list that had ultimately been useless as everyone had either turned him away or not answered his call. He didn’t blame them but it was disappointing. He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and swallowed the fear that was rising in his chest. He took a strong and confident step towards the house and the large wooden door. He shakily raised his knuckles to it and knocked.

            He heard it echoed throughout the house on the other side as he waited for someone to answer his call. There was some shouting from one of the floors above him before he heard the fast and heavy footsteps of someone running down the steps of a tall staircase. His heart started to race as the person got closer and closer to opening the door. He anxiously looked back at the street he had come from then back at the door. The temptation to leave started to overwhelm him. He took one step away from the door when it opened. Slowly he turned back towards the door. He couldn’t leave now.

            “Adrien?” the voice of a young man asked. Adrien recognised that voice. “Is that you?” he asked, squinting his eyes a little.

            Adrien’s eyes widened as he realised who it was. “Nino?”

            He hadn’t realised that the small boy from his memories was the same one that had been his best friend for many long and boring nights at several royal parties. He had been twelve the last time he had seen him at one of his mothers extravagant and rare parties. He remembered it well. The bouncing of his leg as he waited for the party to start, for guests to arrive so he could greet half of them before he disappeared back to his room and back to his books until his few friends arrived.

            He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Nino. He guessed it had happened slowly. Maybe one less party until they stopped. Maybe life got in the way, his schedule also amped up when he was twelve meaning he had less time to spend with friends.

            The sudden feeling of a firm hand on his shoulder distracted him from his thoughts. “Quick!” Nino exclaimed, “Before the guards see you.”

            He let out a yelp as he was sharply pulled into a darkened room. His back hit the wall and his shoulder cried out in pain. The door he had entered through was slammed shut and his ears picked up on the sound of several locks being clicked into place among the sound of his racing heartbeat.

            Slowly his green eyes adjusted to the dark. He took in the sight of the room he was in. Hardly any light was pouring into the room from the heavily curtained windows. The sight reminded him of his own home where they too always had the curtains drawn when the crowds came knocking. The walls from what he could see were a soft beige colour with dark wall panelling giving the house an err of warmth. He continued searching his surroundings as Nino peered through the window.

            “How??” Nino asked. “How did you escape an angry mob?”

            “It’s a long story and one day I promise to tell you but-” his stomach answered him for him as it growled and called for food. His shot open wide and his cheeks grew bright red from embarrassment.

            Nino stared at him before bursting out in bouts of laughter. The sounds of joy eased his anxiety and he soon found himself laughing along with him.

            “I think we should get you something to eat first, then maybe some new clothes,” he said pulling at the lapel of the torn and dirty coat he was wearing. “We have got to fix this.”

            Adrien smiled and nodded, he really wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying, he was just excited about the prospect of something other than horrible bar soup. As that had been his dinner for the past few nights after finding a purse left beside him on his rooftop bed. He didn’t question where it had come from, he just knew not to spend as much as possible in a short time span.

            He followed Nino into the kitchen where he was promptly forced to sit down and food was placed in front of him until he could no longer eat any more.

-x-

            A smile spread across her lips at the sight of her best friend walking calmly across the streets below. She bit back the urge to yell down to her friend although she really what she wanted to. She quickly turned back to her trapdoor and descended to her room below and then down the steps towards the ground floor. She threw open the door just as her friend reached it and she wrapped her arms around her much to Alya’s surprise.

            “You’re back!” she exclaimed attracting a few passerbys. “When did you get back?”

            Alya wrapped her arms around Marinette before pulling back, “Last night,” she replied. “My aunt and my sisters are on their way up north, they’re safe.”

            Marinette let out a deep breath. It was good to hear that they were safe.

            “We best head inside,” she quickly said as she noticed that several guards were starting to take notice of them.

            She pushed open the bakery doors and pulled her inside and away from prying eyes so she could ask more questions.

-x-

            Adrien did as he was told and stepped up to the pedestal. Adrien knew this tailor. His skills were extraordinary and that meant expensive. He reluctantly stood still as his measurements were taken.

            He had no idea how he was supposed to pay Nino. This was too much but nothing he said made him change his mind. He was stuck with his generosity with no escape. A thought he didn’t like. He hated being in debt to someone that he had no way to repay. First with Ladybug and her amazing bowls of soup. Then Marinette and how she had aided him in his escape and now Nino.

            The tailor took his final measurements before returning to his sketchbook to enter them in. He caught a glimpse of the jacket Nino had planned for him, it was good, really good. He could see the fine details and he could almost picture what he would look like with it but it didn’t stop a thought from entering his mind. He couldn’t replay Nino just yet but maybe he could repay her.

            “Are-” He started before rewording his sentence, “I know of someone you might be interested in, her skills are quite extraordinary,” he said with a smirk.

-x-

            Her mind was in the clouds above her head, her sketchbook lay open beside her and she softly hummed a quiet tune. Her eyes stared across the city, it was becoming a regular occurrence for her. Being Ladybug had slowly allowed her to fall back in love with the view. It used to fill her with hate, disgust and resentment but now… She gradually started to see the beauty in mud streets, the cheerful sounds of music and the soft laughter from people walking past. Hope seemed to be on the rise and the fighting in the streets seemed to be coming to an end. She let out a sigh and gripped the warm cup of tea tighter in her cold hands, she didn’t quite like the taste but it was better than constantly drinking the wine they stored in the cellar.

            Sunset was close by, she could tell by the soft breeze that washed its way over her causing her skin to prickle from the cold. The air smelled of rain indicating that it would soon rain. It was nice to spend time on her balcony after an Akuma attack because it was nice and calm and she didn’t have to worry about another one to ruin her peace and quiet time where she liked to design but… Nothing had come to mind. Her brain was normally extremely active and teaming with ideas but today… Nothing. It was a little frustrating but it did ruin her plans slightly.

            She exhaled and pulled the letter out. A tailor was interested in her skills, her heart leapt as she reread the letter. His small little shop had been one she had spent hours staring into just to get a peek into the mind behind the amazing designs in the windows. He had set her a task, one that should be easy for her. Design a hat. A Tricorne to be exact. Seems simple enough but it was impossible. She had hundreds of designs for other hats but not that one.

            She reluctantly picked up her sketchbook and pencil beside her and headed down to her room where she scooped up her bag. The book and several other art supplies were quickly dumped into it before she headed down the steep steps to the ground floor. She yelled her goodbyes to her parents on her way out the door.

            She had no destination in mind, she planned on wandering around until she found somewhere that inspired her.

-x-

            Adrien inspected the jacket carefully. After two days of waiting it was finally here. He pulled the coat on atop his new clothes, his arm protested slightly but it was doing better than it had been a few days prior. Rest and food had made sure of that as well as improving his mood. He had yet to return to the small bakery to thank Marinette for her aid but she was atop his list of people to thank.

            He ran his fingers along with it. The fabric was soft and had been dyed a deep and vibrant blue, not unlike the ones the soldiers wore but slightly lighter. There was no way he was going to let this one get to the state his other one had been left in. That poor coat had to be thrown out.

            He tugged on the coat again before he lifted his head up and into the small mirror hanging on the wall. He stared into it and at himself. In the months he had spent on the streets he had forgotten what he looked like. He knew what Chat Noir looked like, he saw that version of himself almost every day but- he had forgotten what Adrien looked like. His hair was lighter than he remembered, it was more of a soft blond and not the brighter and more golden hair he had as his hero half. His eyes… he knew they had been brighter but they had certainly dulled in those months and large black circles had appeared under his eyes. He looked tired and older than what he had been months ago.

            Plagg floated up beside him and inspected his chosen’s new outfit. “You’re looking better, Kid, it won’t be long before you’re one hundred percent again,” he said, a small smile was plastered on his face causing Adrien to smile slightly as well.

            He nodded his head in response before he scooped up the small coin purse he had discarded on his nightstand the night before after Nino had insisted on taking him drinking the night before.

            His head still pounded slightly from the night's events and he had found it incredibly hard to even make it down the many steps to the dining room for breakfast at Nino’s instance once again but breakfast was nice. He got to meet the rest of the Lahiffe family. Nino’s mother and brother were sweet and kind. They kept piling food onto his plate until he was certain that he would explode from the large amount of food.

            Nino’s father on the other hand… Adrien got the impression that he wasn’t welcome when he was around. He was the strong silent type just like his own father. Adrien kept his head down and tried his best to be respectful whenever the older man was around. He didn’t want to push his luck and end up on the street again so soon.

            With a sigh, Adrien inspected himself in the mirror one last time before he opened his bedroom door and silently made his way down the steps. As he descended he picked up on the sound of concerned voices in the seating room. He slowed his steps so he could hear them better.

            “….No, I’m…. He’s not…” He heard Nino argue before being cut off by his father.

            “Nino… We can’t…. Guards…. Already...”

            Adrien quickly descended the steps so he could hear the conversation better.

            “Please papa, he won’t demand stuff from us.”

            “Nino, I-”

            Adrien missed his step and landed on a creaky one. He winced but the conversation seemed to continue although much quieter than before. He continued down the rest of the steps and he paused outside the door tried to listen to the rest of the conversation but it was already over when he arrived.

            Nino quickly exited the room, his father yelled for him to come back but the older man was ignored. He grabbed ahold of Adrien’s right arm and pulled him down the rest of the steps.

            “What was-” he tried to ask through the pain searing through his arm from the cut.

            Nino shook his head and waved his free hand in front of his face. “It’s nothing to worry about, I’ve got it sorted out,” he quickly said pulling Adrien with him out the front door.

            Helplessly he followed his friend out onto the street where he immediately felt eyes on him. He instantly wanted to turn back to the safety of the house. He hadn’t thought about how much his coat would make him stand out. He wanted to retreat into the shadows but Nino wouldn’t let him, he kept Adrien walking straight and he refused to head down any alleys. He wondered how he was able to do this so confidently. How he was able to ignore the eyes that followed them. Maybe he’d get used to it in time? He didn’t know but he hoped it would be the case.

            They continued walking towards the Seine, he started to hear the sound of the more busy parts of Paris. Sounds that made Adrien feel at ease.

            He thought now would be a good time to ask about the question that had been burning inside his head since the moment he arrived but he knew he couldn’t just ask out of nowhere so Adrien waited until they had been walking for a while before he asked. “My father…” he whispered. He didn’t dare speak his name too loudly, he knew that even a whisper could cause someone's death and he didn’t want to do that to Nino. “He’s dead… isn’t he?”

            Nino’s head dropped slightly before he exhaled. “No one’s seen him. None of his associates. None of the guards. I’ve kept an ear out for the both of you but…”

            Adrien’s eyes meet the floor and he nodded. He had guessed that but he still needed it to be confirmed by someone.

            “I’m sorry…” Nino offered and Adrien struggled to fight back they few tears that threatened to roll their way down his cheek.

            “It’s- It’s okay. I just needed to hear it,” he explained quickly pulling himself together and wiping away any signs of tears. “So?” he asked quickly changing the subject, “Where are we going?”

-x-

            She sat down on the harsh ground and stared out across the stone square. This was where a king had lost his head as well as many other people but today… It was relatively empty. A few people still wandered across the cobblestones on their way to somewhere else but there was no massive crowds, no loud cries calling for justice just… the soft sound of some nearby trees and the loud coos of the pigeons the tall thin man was feeding.

            A smile spread across her lips as a thought came to mind from the sight. She felt Tikki sneak up her arm so she could watch the drawing unfold atop the page. Neither of them said anything as her pencil danced its way across the page. A squiggly line became the brim of a hat and a straight one became a long and tall feather.

            She placed her pencil down and lifted the book into the light so she could get a better look at it. She loved it, it was perfect.

-x-

            Her needle slid into the stiff fabric with every little ease. The thimble on her finger did very little to stop it from it falling prey to the sharp each off the small piece of metal. She let out a yelp in surprise as the needle missed its mark and poked its way into her finger.

            She placed the hat down to inspect her fresh wound before letting out a deep breath and resuming her work and sewing in the finer details of her design. It wouldn’t be long before it was finished and she wanted it to be finished as quickly as possible so she could show off her hard work to the tailor.

            “Marinette?” her Kwami asked drawing her attention away from the hat allowing her to once again prick her finger.

            “Yes?” she replied hiding the pain currently shooting through her pinky.

            “Don’t you have training with Chat in five minutes?”

            She frowned and quickly buried her hand into her pocket to fish out her watch. She groaned as she realised the time. How could she forget? She quickly placed the half-finished hat on her desk. Her fingers hurt from all the misplaced needles that had punctured her skin and she really wasn’t looking forward to holding a sword with the tiny holes in her fingers but it had to be done.

-x-

            Left, right, lunge, block. The moves repeated in her head. She swung the heavy wooden sword and tried to land a strike on her partner but of course, he was more experienced and was able to predict her attack. She lunged forward and he sidestepped her causing her to run past him. She let out a yelp as his own sword hit the back of her leg. She quickly recovered and re-entered her stance and prepared to lunge again but of course, he blocked her attack, she let out a frustrated groan and tried again only to get the same result. She swallowed her anger, it wouldn’t help her win this fight as Chat constantly reminded her, it would only add to her predictability. Marinette took a deep breath and prepared for him to attack, it was her turn to defend.

            His strikes were slow at first, he was making sure that her blocks were correct but soon they were sped up. He constantly reminded her to lift her shoulder and to adjust her stance, this was all very confusing and she struggled to keep up with them all the time. Lift your right arm. Don’t forget to watch for anyone that might sneak up on you. Continually check for opening in your opponent, the quicker you can end a fight, the better. She was starting to grow tired and her partner started to realise that but he didn’t let up his attack as her opponent wouldn’t if it were a real fight. She pushed herself to continue but it proved too much for her. She was about to ask him to stop when l she saw a break in one of his attacks. She took the opportunity and countered his attack, she cheered internally as she landed her first-ever strike on him. Her blade made contact with his right arm and also his sword hand, it let out a loud and sharp whack that bounced slightly off the empty rooftops around them.

            Her partner let out pain-filled yowl in response and she quickly turned into, as Alya referred to it as, momma Marinette mode when she noticed that he was clutching his arm and his eyes started to water from the pain. He dropped his wooden sword and crumpled to the floor still whimpering slightly. Her knees met the sharp masonry tiled rooftop beside him and she immediately tried to find out what was wrong. She couldn’t see anything wrong as he was clutching his shoulder and his black suit didn’t help as any blood would blend seamlessly into the leather-like fabric He hissed out something under his breath and beyond her range of hearing.

            “Chat?” she asked concerned, “Are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

            “It- It’s okay, bug,” he whispered through the pain. “It’s not your fault, I picked a fight with the wrong cat and you just managed to hit me in the right spot.”

            “You should have said something about that,” she replied lightly hitting his shoulder with her palm causing him to once again hiss out in pain. “If you had I wouldn’t have hit you there.”

            Sheepishly he nodded his head as he rubbed the spot she had slightly hit him. He seemed to slowly recover from the pain she had inflicted upon his shoulder a good sign in her eyes. It meant that she hadn’t broken anything.

            “Okay...” he said, his voice was small and quiet.

            A small but sad smile spread across her lip, just as he normally did, he tried to hide just how much pain he was in. She was starting to pick up on the fact that he quite often would get injured during an Akuma attack while trying to protect her and wouldn’t tell her until long after they had defeated the villain in favour of not letting her down when she needed him. A selfless act and if it weren’t for the events of recent weeks, an act that would make her blush but now she saw it as plan stupid and there was probably not going to be a way to stop him.

            She let out a sigh, she could think about it later right now she needed to help her partner. Carefully she grabbed a hold of his other arm, pulling him and herself to their feet. She was seriously deciding whether or not to continue on with their training. She didn’t want to hurt him any further but she also knew that he would be extremely stubborn about her not finishing her training for that night. She believed that she could maybe talk him into allowing it slide just this once although it would be hard. He put a lot of focus on her succeeding in this training. She could tell that he was enjoying teaching her a skill he had probably possessed for most of his life as he was taking great pride into making sure that she was actually picking up what he was trying to teach her.

            She headed towards a nearby wall indenting to lean her partner against it while he continued to recover from what seemed to be an extremely well placed hit on his shoulder. She intended to interrogate him about it as there had been no signs that he was hurt. She wondered how long he had been hiding the wound from her, it had to be a while as they had been training for several weeks with wooden swords. She was slow to pick up on the things he was teaching meaning it took a while before they were able to move on from him calling out where his attacks were going to be just so she could defend herself from his slow attacks but she surely would have noticed that he was favouring his right arm, after all, it was the arm that he wielded his sword with.

            She let out another soft sigh as she lent her partner against the wall. He let out a yelp as his right arm touched the uneven wall of the slightly taller four-story house.

            “How?” was all she said. She wanted to know how it had happened and how he had hidden it.

            “Sorry?” he replied.

            “How? How did it happen,” she asked again.

            “I- I told you…” he stuttered, “I picked a fight with-”

            She raised her hand cutting him off, “How did it happen,” she reaffirmed.

            He let out a sigh and sent her one last pleading look before he did as she asked. “I met the wrong person on the wrong street at the wrong time. He managed to land a strike on me but I’m pretty sure I left him worse off,” he reluctantly explained.

            She nodded her head, “Why hide it?”

            “I didn’t want you to worry Bug.”

            Her mouth opened slightly before she quickly shut it as she processed how to respond to him.

            The loud echoing screams pulled her attention away from the conversation. She knew those screams, they were the leading sign of an Akuma attack. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she mentally prepared for what was about to happen. She opened her eyes and quickly scooped up the two wooden swords; her balcony was on the way to the Akuma. She sent a look to Chat, he nodded, he knew what she wanted him to do. He pulled his baton from his back and took off running towards the Akuma. She believed that it was going to be a long day.

-x-

            The wind blew through his hair as he raced towards the attack. Nothing seemed out of order apart from the fact he had to constantly avoid the high amount of birds as his nose constantly twitches. His allergies were starting to play up as he passed them, he hadn’t even seen the Akuma yet and he was starting to despise it. He continued on, his eyes were on the roof tiles and the streets below him and not the skies above as he grew closer to where the screams had originally come from.

            He propelled himself a little further until he was sure he was where the screams had originated from. He searched the almost empty streets below indicating that he was in the right place but he could see no sign or indication that there had been an Akuma in the area. Maybe a false alarm? He thought, there had been a few of those but this didn’t seem like one so he continued to search.

            He went street by street looking for what his gut was telling him was there and for a brief second his eyes flickered up to the blue almost cloudless skies above. He stopped in his tracks and watched in awe and confusion of the things he was witnessing. Huge flocks of birds were circling the skies above them. They weren’t random and were circling the skies as if they were patrolling them. A large flock of birds swooped down and picked up a group of soldiers, their blue coats were only just visible through the grey feathers. Another flock swooped down to pick up the three left behind by the first lot as they tried to run away but to his surprise, they left the civilians, alone.

            He pulled his baton from his back and tried to chase after the birds. He propelled himself faster and faster in an attempt to catch up to the fast birds but it was no use. The birds proved too much for his sensitive nose. Slowly he came to a stop and watched helplessly as the men were carried off to an unknown destination, their distant yells became quieter and quieter with each flap of the bird's wings until they were no more.

            His turned his head slightly to his right where another large ball of birds were carrying off another poor blue coat soldier. He frowned bat that quickly changed when he caught sight of the red-spotted suit. Her focus was also on the large ball of birds slowly passing over his head.

            Carefully he crept up behind her, a small smile had spread its way across his lips. “It seems birds of a feather flock together,” he said announcing his presence to her before all of his focus on not sneezing dissipated. He sneezed and lost his footing on the uneven roof. He rolled down it before catching himself before he fell off of it. “Sorry,” he said, “I’m allergic to feathers.”

            Ladybug rolled her eyes and shook her head. “That’s helpful,” she muttered, her mind clearly had already gone through all the possibilities on where today could go wrong.

            He felt another sneeze coming on but managed to catch himself before he did.

            “I know…” he replied in a sarcastic tone, “but that’s not our only problem. The birds seem to only be targeting the soldiers.”

            She nodded, “We best find this Akuma and fast.”

            There was no telling how much damage could be done without the peacekeepers. He watched patiently as a plan formed within his partners head before she threw her yo-yo off towards their destination indicating that she wanted him to follow. He bit back another sneeze before pulling his baton from his resting place on his back, ready to follow her into battle.

Made for @ladynoirjuly2019

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[1358456]

Lack of Updates?

So... let’s take a look at all the active stories and their last update date.

DE: July 6 (3 months) SC: Sept 7 (1 month... already?!) Legacy: May 25 (4.5 months) Heart: May 11 (5 months) Wings: Sept 7 (1 month) SoS: “5 months ago” (5.0 - 5.9 months)

It’s somehow been a month already since Wings and SC were updated, and much longer for the others. ... And updating the stuff on Ao3, which I haven’t done since... March 7. Hm.

Honesty time!! As usual for these kinds of posts, TL;DR version is down in the bottom, before the “keep reading” thingy.

For Ao3, I stopped updating SE there because an upcoming chapter requires SA to end first, and SA is nowhere near the end there. And for whatever reason, updating the other stories’ existing chapters once every 2 weeks was so annoying that I just stopped. So... I think what I’m going to do TOMORROW (note to self) is update all that remains for SA at once. And once that’s done, I can update everything in SE (so far) a week* or so later. *6 to 8 months

SoS... I’m working on it. I THINK I can have it finished soon. MAYBE this week?

SC and Wings were “just” updated, so they won’t be seeing an update for a bit. ... SC might because I want to work on it, but Wings will not be seeing an update until 2020. Triple the review count for the last chapter, and THEN we’ll see. Shouldn’t be too hard, since that’s just +4.

DE... I forgot what I was going to do for it. And it’s not my immediate priority anyways, so... it shall remain forgotten for now.

Heart... I don’t know what happened to it. I forgot everything about it. Whoops.

Legacy... it’s wedged. Like, the story progression events kind of conflict with each other. The details will be given in the bottom of this post, after the whole “keep reading” thingy. IF that decides to show this time around. I noticed that some posts that I make ignore the “keep reading” thing I put in, and show everything at once. Well, in the event of that, I’ll just have to put like a double manual line break to signify spoilers ahead.

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(This was a SINGLE manual line break)

Now, one BIG reason why the updates are slow and no progress has been made in the past month or so is because my current interest in Pokemon Special (and all of Pokemon entirely) is at a flat 0. It was declining pretty fast for a while before that point, and now it’s at a flat 0. Hell, after that fallout, I haven’t checked or seen anything from Pokemon Special. BW2 probably updated twice since the last time I checked. So... two updates would be one full chapter? What happened in it? I don’t know. The greatest thing in the manga could’ve happened. Or the absolute dumbest thing could’ve happened, and I don’t have a clue, nor do I care. Has SM/USM updated? Probably at least once. I have no idea what happened in it. And I also don’t remember where it left off. Has SS arc started? ... Have those games come out yet? No idea. What little interest I have for the arcs, I have even less for the games. 0 < 0??

Hell, I don’t even know where my 3DS is right now. My friend gave it to me for free, and I used it ONLY for the Generation VI/VII Pokemon games, and I put it away somewhere because I wasn’t going to be using it any time soon, and now I don’t know where that is. Not that I actually tried to look for it, but that’s besides the point.

Anyways, the point is... me trying to write up the update chapters is me trying to write about a series I don’t really care that much about anymore, with characters I’ve moved on from. I’m trying to force myself back into things, but the progress is slow. The whole headcanon chronology and the random X & Y tidbit were a part of me trying to force the interest back. In that regard, I’m compiling the full headcanon chronology, including the headcanons for EVERYONE instead of just Red and Blue (and a bit from Platinum). That will take a while, and in order to make such a thing, I’ll have to look at my own stories pretty closely which should hopefully force some interest back.

Now, why am I holding on instead of letting go? Well... I’ll have to return to Pokemon Special in a little while anyways, albeit briefly, so... letting go now is meaningless. And I’ll be checking out the manga again only to see Sword and Shield and their personalities, abilities, stats, etc. Stats??

And hey, maybe if Sword and Shield are interesting enough, it might just rekindle my interest altogether! ... I kind of doubt it but it’s certainly possible!

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So, TL;DR version... updates are taking a while because of the lack of interest in the series as a whole, so have patience, s’il vous plait. Updates will come. The time will come! The period of update-hiatus will end! 苦盡甘來, 捲土重來! ... Okay, neither saying particularly fits well with the current situation, but the two put together KIND of works in painting the right picture, so hey.

Okay. Now time to see why Legacy update is wedged, how it’s wedged, and what the possible solutions are. Spoiler time. Why spoil the story stuff? Because why not. I think there are exactly two people who read my stories AND my Tumblr posts. Maybe three. So I’m not spoiling a lot of people (nor am I spoiling a lot because most of what I’m going to write has already been discussed in the story). So for you two (or three), proceed at your own discretion. You know who you are. And no, I’m talking about YOU, who stopped a bit after 1/3rd of Destiny over two months ago. YOU know who you are as well.

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(Double manual line breaks)

So, why is the Legacy update stuck?! Let’s look at the plot thus far, and in particular, the unnamed enemy’s plans. The enemy does have a name, but it will be hidden for now to avoid the major reveal later on. MUCH later on. So we’re talking like 7 years at this rate (...).

The enemy is trying to progress with a project called K3, which seems to be a part of a K-series of projects, given how “there will not be a K4″ (Legacy #001: Rendezvous), and K2 already existing (Legacy #004: Derailed). Given how K2 talks in an automated voice and gives VERY accurate data like time in 1/100th of a second, it’s safe to assume that this K2 is an AI. So then K3 is assumed to be the next version in a line of AI projects that requires money, the Rotom Dex, and Blue for whatever reason. Given what they said about Platinum’s mental capacity during her kidnapping, it’s likely that they’re trying to use particularly brilliant individuals’ brain scans (Legacy #004: Derailed) as a base for the AI memory matrices. Blue is canonically quite ingenious with technical stuff, which would make her quite suitable. ... Cortana, much? ... Remember all those Cortana quotes Blue used back in SA? (”Could you sacrifice me to complete your mission? Could you watch me die?”) Heh... Anyways. The enemy currently has money and the Rotom Dex. So all they need now is Blue. And that is where the wedging occurs.

In order for the enemy to snatch Blue and proceed with their final “ingredient” in K3, the Dex Holders need to NOT be on alert. Currently, they ARE on alert because Platinum and Y were briefly kidnapped. The Dex Holders’ discussions led to the conclusion that no more Dex Holders may be targeted from this point, so if that continues, then they will no longer be on alert, which is good. BUT the latest chapter also had Moon being attacked, and set on fire, while her Rotom Dex was stolen. If the others find out, they are going to stay on alert for a long, long time.

From here, I have 3 possible solutions, each with their own logical issues and requirement problems.

1) Moon does NOT tell the others what happened. This gets the other Dex Holders in the Kanto-Johto area to relax pretty shortly, thus allowing the rest of the plot to go ahead. The problem is... why would Moon not tell anyone, and what would happen when Moon meets up with the others? She’ll be covered in bandages, so everyone is going to ask what the hell happened. “I... um... fell down some stairs? ... That magically gave me burn wounds?”

2) Moon tells the others what happened, and moves to regroup with everyone else. At this point, Moon and Sun will move to the nearest region of Hoenn, gather the Dex Holders there, and then move to Kanto/Johto to regroup. Which means everyone will be gathered at the same time. And I don’t want everyone gathered up into a giant deathball. But from here, there are two different solutions.

2a) The enemy lures the Dex Holders into their fake HQ, and then fakes defeat, thus getting them to think that the crisis is over. ... The problem with this is that... well... this kind of thing is very hard to go unnoticed by a certain group who really should not be made aware of this yet. And the Dex Holders already know that their enemy is quite sophisticated. So if their HQ seems like... real shitty, they’re going to know something’s up.

2b) The enemy goes into hiding, so the Dex Holders slowly lower their guard after a long period of time. The enemy also happens to need some time to get their project underway until they need their final piece, but... they’re not going to need that long. And if things take too long to progress, Moon’s injuries would fully heal, but the rest of Legacy requires her burn wounds to remain. Healing, but not healed. That said, it’s not mandatory, but... it’s a decently big deal.

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So that’s where Legacy stands. I haven’t figured out a 4th solution that avoids all conflicts and still gets everything rolling.

... Hmm... I think I’m just now getting a possible solution. Maybe. This will require some thought...

Now, this dilemma caused the wedge right now because depending on which solution I go for, the next chapter will vary. So I can’t actually write the next chapter until I decide on the solution and then work things out from there. So... yep. Just have patience ㅠ.ㅜ...