#personal observation from my end? he seemed pretty. detached. from the group at the start. (something something fear of rejection)

[pjsk-story-summaries]

KAITO "Wonderland SEKAI" Initial 2* Card Story Summary

Upload of Official English Translation Submitted anonymously

Part 1: Tsukasa comes up to KAITO, asking for advice on how he manages to make good shows even with such a chaotic group of actors; he finds it a struggle to keep things under control when running his own productions. KAITO tells him an anecdote from one of his shows, where he was inside a box while Miku stabbed it with swords. When she used more swords than they had planned, it was stressful but ended up being a very popular trick.

He explains that when things go off the rails, it’s up to them as troupe leaders to work with it and keep the show moving. Tsukasa doesn’t like the sound of having to just deal with the antics of everyone, but KAITO emphasizes that it makes the shows themselves better. He ends by expressing his confidence in Tsukasa and how he knows how to make everyone shine, and that he’ll be a great leader.

Part 2: Rui finds KAITO, wanting to learn more about the SEKAI. He’s in the middle of cleaning up the stage, so Rui offers to help. As KAITO roll calls the plushies, Rui finds it useful that the props can line up on their own. Rui wonders how he chooses which plushies to use in shows out of the large variety, but KAITO explains he just includes those who volunteer.

KAITO goes on to tell him that everything in the SEKAI reflects a part of Tsukasa’s psyche; for example, he believes the audience is made up of toys because when Tsukasa was younger, he would present plays in front of his toys. Rui asks if the wide range of genres in the shows is also related to Tsukasa; KAITO thinks so, but suggests he asks him about it. Rui isn’t sure they’re close enough to talk about childhood experiences, but decides to ask him about it anyway to learn more about the SEKAI.

[karajaynetoday]

i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings

image credit 

hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey​ for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings:  mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

I'll be honest, I'm alright with me

Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets

The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth. 

It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later. 

You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go. 

Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.

“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.

“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted. 

But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget

Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.  

You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.

It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black. 

Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio

Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go

The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.

“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.

“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.

“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.

As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room. 

“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.

“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.

The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by. 

Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories. 

I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days

I'll be honest, It's better off this way

The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.

The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces).  “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.

“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.

“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?

The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.

You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result. 

You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way. 

When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone

Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know

Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!   @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon  @oyesmendes​ @andrianawinchester @333-xx  @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara  @killmywildflower​

[shotofire]

Happier

Eren Yeager x Fem!Reader

Based on the song ‘Happier’ by Olivia Rodrigo

Warnings: Heartache, Cursing, Angst

I’m alive, but with thriving writers block <3

I’m most likely going to do more songs off her new album, they’re so good!

~

We broke up a month ago

Your friends are mine

You know I know you’ve moved on

Found someone new

One more girl who brings out the better in you

Life is truly, and purely, fucked at times. Young girls putting all their heart and soul into a boy who doesn’t feel the same way. It happens time and time again. Things like this can’t be stopped, but it doesn’t stop girls from thinking the boy might be different. Maybe this one will be good, maybe this one is the one. But it seems to never work out that way in the end.

y/n truly believed her love was different. But it was all an illusion. She’d built a home inside her head, one that was perfect and had enough love to supply dozens. Too bad the boy she loved could care less about her. She’d fallen hard for Eren Yeager, and thought he was nothing short of perfect.

Months went by of what seemed like getting closer, but in reality they were just drifting further apart. It’s crazy how much one person can be in love while the other just plays along until their timer runs out. It’s utterly heartbreaking. No one deserves that feeling.

It ended on his terms of course, not hers, and he was off. She still saw him from time to time, it was unavoidable really. He knows the same people she does, it’s the same friend group practically. It didn’t take long at all for the whispering to start and the uncomfortable looks of her friends. It was a matter of time until one slipped up, spilling how Eren had moved on. There was already another girl.

y/n felt as if she’d been punched in the chest.

And I thought my heart was detached

From all the sunlight of our past

But she’s so sweet

She’s so pretty

Does she mean you forgot about me?

At first y/n brushed it aside. She’d spent the past month breaking down her and Eren’s relationship from beginning to end. He didn’t treat her right. Some in the beginning, but that’s what they all do. They try until they’ve become comfortable and it doesn’t matter to them anymore. It seemed to never matter to him.

Then he brought the new girl around. There was no denying she was a pretty girl. As y/n observed this girl it became clear that they are polar opposites. Different color hair, different heights, different interests. Eren wanted someone nothing like y/n, and that hurt her in ways she had never thought possible. He’d completely forgotten about their love, and what used to be.

She wanted to hate him for it but she couldn’t. There was still love buried beneath the hurt.

Oh, I hope you’re happy

But not like how you were with me

I’m selfish, I know

I can’t let you go

So find someone great but don’t find no one better

I hope you’re happy but don’t be happier

To anyone else it was quite obvious that Eren had no true feelings for this girl either. Time will go by, he will get bored, and it won’t mean anything to him. Y/n knew this of course, she knew how heartless he was. His sparkling eyes and boyish smile was all an act she knew way too well. Yet she couldn’t get herself to hate him, or even dislike him.

She disliked what he did to her, and what he’s going to do again and again to other girls with innocent hearts. Yet she still hoped the best for him even after everything he put her through, and what he’s continuing to put her through. Her heart can’t seem to let go of him and who he used to be to her. It’s sad, really.

Y/n knows deep down he’ll never find someone who loved him the way she did. It may sound selfish but it’s the truth. She’s a hopeless romantic who thought she’d found her forever person, so all of her love was spilled out to him on a silver platter. And he gladly dropped it onto the floor, leaving it there for her to pick up.

And she still hasn’t found all the pieces.

Eren may act as if it meant nothing, and maybe majority of it did, but he’ll never shake the feeling inside of him. He ignores it quite well, pushing it into the back of his mind with all the other blocked out memories and feelings. But he’ll never shake it, truly, to where he can’t feel it poking at him.

Y/n was good for him, too good, and he got rid of her. He was happy in a way he hadn’t been happy before. And instead of embracing it he shut off his feelings. It’s crazy how effortlessly he can do it. She knew this as well, it was tangled up with all her other scattering thoughts. He may be happy right now with this new girl, but it will never be the same. He’ll never be happier than he was with y/n.

And do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?

An eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean

Remember when I believed

You meant when you said it first to me

Anger can really get the best of someone. Y/n may still have love for this boy but it doesn’t make her any less mad. To know he’s most likely saying the same words that’ll pull that girl right into his trap. He’ll throw around compliments that’ll make the girls heart flutter and her stomach flip. Too bad it’s all bullshit.

Y/n remembers all the times he called her beautiful, the simple word making her feel as if she’s on top of the world. She wonders if he meant it, even one time.

Her stomach turns in disgust, how could he be doing this again? How could he be breaking down another girl? Who has the heart to do such a thing, yet again?

The reality that everything he said wasn’t true makes her feel so used. So mistreated. She wonders if there were any girls before her who fell for his lover boy act. If there’s another so soon after her… who’s to say there isn’t more? The girl probably has no idea he was even with y/n.

And now i’m pickin’ her apart

Like cuttin’ her down will make you miss my wretched heart

But she’s beautiful

She looks kind

She probably gives you butterflies

At first y/n tried to act as if the girl was the problem. It’s the coping mechanism many try to avoid but it gets the best of people. To her she thought if she saw everything wrong with this new girl, maybe Eren would too. But y/n truly couldn’t find a thing worth getting worked up over.

The girl is kind, and has done nothing but tried to make others around her comfortable with her presence. Eren really knows how to pick them. Find a sweet girl with a big heart then hurt them. It’s become a hobby for him at this point. It’s sad the way some people live their lives.

Y/n hates herself for getting caught up in it. Why did she have to be one of his toys?

She hates the look in his eyes when he talks to the girl. It’s not real. He wants this girl to think he’s interested, that his stomach does flips by just the presence of that girls love. He used to look at y/n just like that, she remembers it all too well. It’s become burned into her memory.

I hope you’re happy

But not like how you were with me

I’m selfish, I know

I can’t let you go

So find someone great but don’t find no one better

Even if she’s able to read him so well, know him inside and out, she still hopes he’ll find happiness. Someone out there can change him. She cried for weeks wishing she was the one, but that’s not how life works.

But deep down she knows that sliver of happiness she made him feel was the best he’d ever had. Possibly the best he could ever get. She knows most of her thoughts about him are selfish, and she’s still holding onto him, but it’s never going to change.

Y/n was the light that he let burn out. She doesn’t want him to get ahold of a light like that ever again. She never wants him to feel the warmth of a love like hers. He may be happy one day, in his own twisted way, but she hopes he’ll realize the same thing she has. He doesn’t deserve true happiness.

I hope you’re happy

I wish you all the best

Really

Say you love her, baby

Just not like you love me

And think of me fondly when your hand’s around her

I hope you’re happy

But don’t be happier

Watching him as he rests a hand on the girls hip or pushes a piece of hair behind her ear is like watching a play unfold. Y/n can’t believe how well he has mastered these movements. As if they’re muscle memory. It crosses her mind that he may really love this girl….

But he moved the same exact way for y/n.

He’d catch a stray hair and tuck it behind her ear, making her eyes sparkle with love. She remembers when he’d cup his hand on her hip, pulling her in for a kiss on the cheek. Making her blush and feel all warm and fuzzy. She misses that feeling.

She can’t help but wonder if he ever thinks about her. Even if it’s just for a second. When he kisses this girls cheek, or messes with her hair, or touches her skin, does he think of y/n? She shouldn’t, but she hopes he does. She hopes that her cries haunt him in the back of his mind every time he tries to feel the same as he once did. She wants to be in his head forever.

A constant reminder that in the long run, he’s not going to win.

I hope you’re happy

Just not like how you were with me

I’m selfish, I know

Can’t let you go

So find some great but don’t find no one better

I hope you’re happy but don’t be happier

Tears well up in y/n’s eyes. She wonders how long they’ll last. Will it be longer or shorter than her time lasted. She hopes it’s shorter. She hopes the girl leaves him first, sees through his persona. But she knows that’s a slim chance. He knows what he’s doing, as if he’s read a book on it.

Breaking hearts, his specialty.

The tears only increase, speeding down her red cheeks. Heartbreak can feel like a punch in the stomach. Considering the fact she’s still holding on while he was never doing it in the first place. She should know she deserves better. She deserves love.

Yet she goes day by day replaying the touches Eren and the new girl shared. The smiles. The laughs. The kissing. All right in front of her face, as if she wasn’t there. That’s what hurt the most, the fact he didn’t even really see her. She was a memory to him. Something of the past. How’d he do it so quick?

He has caused her hurt in ways she didn’t think were possible until now. And he was perfectly fine. He ‘loves’ someone else now. He’s touching someone else now. She isn’t his anymore, and he isn’t hers.

All of this, yet y/n still can’t let go.

[freebooter4ever]

Living in close quarters for months on end with a bunch of men his own age doesn't bother Snafu a bit. It's the one part of the Marines Corps he actually enjoys. Like living on an island full of eye candy. Snafu became mostly numb to the sheer number of naked butts by the end of his second day on Pavuvu. With the heat and the sun, the men need very little provocation to strip their clothing off. It was distracting for about an hour and then it became commonplace.

Later, after Gloucester, after living for three straight weeks in rain and misery, under the constant threat of violent death, and then returning once more to Pavuvu, Snafu becomes numb to everything....

He's never been one for carousing - a trait his peers in high school picked up on pretty quick. He's been compensating ever since. Packing on the innuendo and flirtation, and studying how other men act towards women and amplifying it in his own behavior.

So even before the numbness set in, Snafu isn't sure he ever actually felt anything like what others seem to describe. Even though Snafu admires his daily fill of half dressed fellow Marines wandering around camp, he does it in a detached sort of way that makes him feel more like an observer than participant. And it's good, because while there are whispers and rumors about certain guys who will take a man into the woods and show him a good time, Snafu doesn't need to get involved. He gets himself into enough trouble without adding a court martial onto it.

A few days after Gloucester an envelope arrives. There's no letter, simply a newspaper clipping slipped inside and stamped. The clipping is from his hometown newspaper and the article is about their hometown hero - brave Merriell Shelton - who shot up the enemy with his 'mortar gun'.

It's truly amazing how in a small town such as his, one can go from being the delinquent orphan son of impoverished half crazed parents easily forgotten by polite society, to being a hometown hero in the span of one battle.

Everyone in K company teases him about the article, especially about the 'mortar gun' bit. Snafu enjoys it immensely. He takes pride in his notoriety. It adds to his carefully cultivated mystique. No one wants to fuck with the fast talking, mean Merriell Shelton, war hero.

In actuality, Snafu is no hero. He fights for one reason, and that's the fifty dollars a month being sent home to his kid sister. He doesn't want her saddled with being a burden to her adopted family. Not like Snafu was with their own parents.

Overall, aside from the numbness, everything about Snafu's time in the Marine Corps is going well. He has respect, he has the looming potential of death and relief, and he has a steady diet of filling if questionable food. He thinks he's got a handle on things.

Till his downfall arrives a few days after the envelope.

Eugene Sledge looks like a fool from the minute he steps into Snafu's tent. Something about him irritates the hell out of Snafu. To try and figure out what about Sledge bothers him so much, Snafu goes out of his way to run into the guy. But no dice. Nothing works.

It doesn't click until Snafu accidentally runs into Sledge in the showers. Normally Snafu showers on off times to avoid any accidents. But after one particularly disgusting round of coconut duty, Snafu is stuck washing the gritty stickiness off in the middle of the day.

At first there's just him and Pops in the showers. A typical sight - Gunney Haney is obsessively clean. Snafu ignores him, and ignores the new Boots who join them halfway through. Snafu requires single minded focus to fish out all the coconut pieces that mysteriously found their way into his hair.

Once finished, Snafu turns around and bends his head back under the stream of water to rinse. He opens his eyes after the worst of the suds are gone, and spots Eugene Sledge in the group of new recruits. They are huddled around the shower heads in the opposite corner as far away from Snafu and Pops as they can get. Snafu smirks at them as a greeting.

It's kinda fun being intimidating.

Except they aren't paying attention to him. Sledge's eyes are transfixed on Haney as the man scrubs his dick.

Admittedly, for the uninitiated, seeing Haney shower is quite a sight. The man uses a bristly GI brush. The working theory is that he's been doing it so long and he's so old that his skin is pickled enough to be as thick and tough as leather. Everyone stares and winces in pain when they first witness Haney washing his junk.

However, Sledge is unusually engrossed. Snafu feels a strange prickle at the back of his neck and a spike of annoyance over this.

Jealousy - a word Snafu's never related to before.

Once he recognizes the feeling, though, he starts seeing it everywhere. Sledge is genuinely kind, and cares about everyone in a way that would stretch Snafu thin enough to break. Sledge is the best sharpshooter in the company, beating Snafu's considerable score by almost an entire point. Sledge takes every work duty thrown at him without complaint and with stubborn pride. Sledge takes everything thrown at him without complaint, including Snafu's own malice.

And all Snafu wants is for Sledge to just fucking look at him.

The tipping point comes after Sledge's little buddy Philips rotates home without warning. The despondency Sledge sinks into for a few days makes Snafu ache with frustration. Sledge starts disappearing whenever the replacements get an hour or two off. Snafu makes it his mission to find him.

He eventually does. Turns out Sledge is running off to a secluded beach, but he never goes in the water. Instead he sits crosslegged in the sand and stares at crabs. Snafu shimmies up a palm tree and scoots across the rough bark until he's nearly hanging over the oblivious Sledge.

In Sledge's lap is a dog-eared notebook, probably a moonlight requisition from the officer's tents. Sledge hunches over the page, his hand scribbling furiously and Snafu cranes his neck till he can see what Sledge is working on.

It's drawings of crabs. Countless pages of them. Snafu straddles the uncomfortable palm tree for almost an hour, watching in disbelief as Sledge makes study after study of crab anatomy.

Instead of killing the damn invasive creatures with a shovel and burying them in the sand, Sledge draws them.

If Snafu could draw, maybe he'd finally be free of this strange fascination that's taken hold of him. The image of Sledge that one afternoon - showering, naked and lean and glowing in the midafternoon sun - burned itself in Snafu's brain. He doesn't know how to purge himself of it. At the time, he didn't even realize he'd been looking that closely at Sledge while they were in the showers, but afterwards his brain pieced the scraps of memory together and gave him a picture more vivid than what he thought he saw.

And now he sees it whenever he looks at Sledge.

Even on Peleliu, after everything's gone to shit, but somehow they got off the beach and somehow they're not dead yet, his mind drifts to Sledge. The boy strips off his shoes in the midst of battle. Snafu stops him, shoving Sledge's boots back into his chest with force.

It's the first time he lays hands on Sledge and he doesn't even register it because he's too busy being worried about the damn idiot being caught with his pants down and shoes off.

Sledge is a distraction. That's all he is.

Until Sledge fucking picks Snafu up off the ground even when Snafu is pretty sure he's already dead. Sledge drags Snafu out of his shock and out of danger, and proves he can keep his cool during battle. Cooler even than Snafu, who still runs hot whenever Sledge gets too close.

Naive little Sledgehammer grew up quick, but unlike Snafu, he did not grow up mean - he still saves worthless things fallen helpless in the sand and dirt. From that minute on, Snafu makes it his personal mission to preserve Eugene's goodness.

He doesn't anticipate Sledgehammer accepting Snafu's newfound loyalty so readily.

Burgie calls Snafu out on it teasingly during their ship ride back to dreaded Pavuvu. A painful bout of seasickness causes Snafu to lose track of Sledgehammer for a few hours aboard ship, and Snafu spends the time wandering the decks in search of him.

"Since when did you appoint yourself as his shadow, Snaf?" Burgie retorts when Snafu asks if he's seen the 'Hammer'.

"Just need to collect on my bet about him smoking by the end of his first battle," Snafu shrugs.

"Every nonsmoker smokes by the end of their first battle, Snafu. You already knew that," Burgie says, "Leave him be."

"No way," Snafu argues, "Someone needs to teach that rich boy that he don't know everything."

"And of course you'd be the one to do it," Burgie sighs.

Ironically, Sledge is the one to find Snafu in a random ship compartment instead of the other way around. Snafu is lying prone, trying to keep his half digested meal from rolling around.

"Here," Sledge says, shoving a small box at Snafu as hard as Snafu shoved Eugene's boots.

"What is it?" Snafu asks, feigning disinterest.

"Crackers. They'll help with the stomach," Sledge replies, "C'mon, let's get you topside."

"How the hell'd you get crackers on a ship short of rations?" Snafu asks. He obediently follows Eugene through the ship to the deck. Like a damn shadow.

"I sweet talked one of the swabbies," Sledge explains casually.

That news roils Snafu's gut. Jealousy again. It's lucky they made it to the deck. He staggers to the rail and pukes overboard.

"The swabby liked my accent," Eugene says and leans beside Snafu, "Think he was from northern Alabama. I told him how us southern boys have the best aim in the Marines."

Snafu finishes vomiting up the last of his afternoon chow.

Sledge sighs and places his hand on Snafu's upper back.

Snafu's glad no one else is around on this part of the deck to see his shame. He hangs on the rail and feels miserable.

"Get it all out?" Sledge asks, and passes Snafu his canteen.

Snafu takes a sip, swishes it around his mouth, and spits into the sea. And then guzzles as much water as he thinks he can keep down. He sticks his tongue out at the disgusting aftertaste and hands the canteen back.

Sledge runs his hand down from Snafu's back to his arm. Before Snafu knows what's happening Eugene is gently taking Snafu's hand and leading him away from the rail. Sledge sits on the deck and leans against the ship's wall. He tugs on Snafu's hand for him to sit next to him.

"Better to go down to one of the cabins," Snafu resists.

"You don't want to know how bad it smells down there," Sledge warns, "Trust me. Fresh air is best."

Snafu gives in and collapses next to Eugene. He tilts his head back against the cold metal and closes his eyes.

Sledge takes the box of saltines from Snafu's hands and Snafu hears rustling as Sledge opens the package. Sledge then nudges Snafu's elbow with the box.

"Eat," Sledge says.

Snafu groans and leans his head on Sledgehammer's shoulder instead. He doesn't want any ill-gotten flirtation crackers. It's a lot easier to close his eyes and pretend to sleep.

Sledge seems to not mind Snafu sleeping on him. He doesn't move away, at least. So Snafu uses it as an excuse to shuffle closer. Which is when he realizes Eugene never let go of his hand. He's still holding on. Tight.

"Snafu?" Sledge prompts. He uses Snafu's nickname like they're best buds, though they've hardly ever spoken.

Snafu grunts.

"On that airfield…" Sledge says, "Don't you ever dare do that again, allright?"

"Whatever you say, Sledgehammer," Snafu drawls, "Don't even know what I did."

"You just...lay there," Sledge says quietly, "Like you were...."

"Waiting?" Snafu tries to remember his own state of mind in that moment.

"Gone," Sledge says sharply.

"Same damn thing," Snafu gives up on sleeping and lights a cigarette.

"If you're not around who'll tell me what I'm doing wrong?" Sledge asks.

"Shit, Sledge," Snafu drawls with a grin, "practically anybody who's not you could do that."

Sledge actually chuckles. That's the thing about Eugene. He's not stuck up or prissy like Snafu'd expect him to be. He's humble, and willing to laugh at his own inexpertise.

"I'd rather it be you," Eugene adds quietly with a small smile.

Snafu sucks on his bottom lip and refuses to respond to that.

"So no dying," Eugene finishes, as if such a conclusion were a choice.

Snafu does fall asleep and when he wakes up a few hours later, Sledge's head is tipped on top of Snafu's. Sledge's long nose is in Snafu's hair and he's snoring loud enough to wake the enemy a thousand miles away. Snafu can feel Eugene's snores blowing his hair around.

Despite these annoyances, Snafu tries to freeze in place and jostle Eugene as little as possible.

Their hands are still linked together. Sledge's hand is wrapped tight around Snafu's. Snafu lifts Sledge's hand to examine his delicate fingers - long and gentle, but not dainty. Eugene has the calluses of an expert marksman, and painfully short fingernails. Snafu picks at the boy's ring curiously.

Sledge shifts and turns farther in towards Snafu's body. He draws his arm away from Snafu's fiddling and instead places his hand on Snafu's soft belly. "Stop moving," he mumbles.

"You stop snoring," Snafu complains. He bumps his head intentionally into Sledge's big nose to make his point.

Sledge ignores him and slumps more of his weight onto Snafu's shoulder.

Snafu accepts his fate and reaches over Sledge's body to steal the saltines. He opens the cracker package and starts snacking.

"Must you, with the crunching?" Sledge snarls after a few minutes.

"Got hungry, Sledgehammer," Snafu, "If you're gonna be using me as a pillow, I'm gonna need to generate extra padding."

Sledge sighs and holds his hand out, "Give me one."

Snafu complies, "If you get crumbs in my hair, I'll kill ya."

"Wouldn't be the worst thing in your hair right now, Snafu," Sledge gripes.

"Yeah? What else is up there? Pick it out for me," Snafu grins.

"Smells like you took a nap in seawater," Sledge says, "Or smoke."

"Get your long nose out of my hair then," Snafu quips.

"Once you get past the brine smell it's not so bad," Sledge mutters and doesn't move

"Yeah, well your shoulder smells like…" Snafu starts, and then cuts off when he realizes Eugene's shoulder doesn't smell like anything Snafu finds unpleasant. "Did you change your shirt?"

"Traded it for the saltines," Sledge explains, "The swabby wanted a souvenir that saw battle. I gave it to him. Stole this one off a supply crate."

"Fuck, Eugene, I thought you flirted your way into the galley," Snafu grumbles.

"Who says taking off my shirt wasn't a part of that?"

Snafu can't see it with his head on Sledge's shoulder but he swears Gene is smirking at him. "Should have just given him your pin," Snafu argues.

"Can't," Eugene replies, "Sid says they're good luck."

Snafu rolls his eyes at the mention of stupid Sid and settles back comfortably to sleep.

Eugene hooks a thumb in between Snafu's button holes in his shirt to keep his hand on Snafu's stomach. His fingertips barely brush Snafu's bare skin, and suddenly Snafu is no longer interested in sleeping.

And then Eugene's wandering fingers hit Snafu's shrapnel wound.

His response is immediate and a little shocking, "What the fuck, Snafu?" Without asking Eugene starts popping open all of Snafu's shirt buttons.

"What the hell, Sledge?" Snafu tries to back away from him.

"My father's a physician, let me look at you," Eugene orders. He manhandles Snafu's hips forward away from the wall to stretch him out on the deck. Snafu's thin wound runs from right beside his belly button to right over his hip. "Jesus, Snaf, that could turn infected."

Snafu is still trying to process the feel of Eugene's long hands gripping his hips, there is no room in his brain for worrying about infections right now.

"You're gonna need to lie down," Eugene tells him, "Here…" Sledge takes off his shirt and folds it up so Snafu doesn't have to rest his head on the floor.

"Thanks," Snafu says blankly.

"I thought it didn't hit you, you idiot?" Eugene asks.

"Naw, it hit me," Snafu smiles, "just didn't kill me."

"Wait here, I need a kit," Sledge gets up and walks off, leaving Snafu on his own.

Snaf uncomfortably folds his open shirt closed and crosses his arms over his chest self-consciously. He hopes no one will accidentally walk past this part of the ship while Snafu is stuck laying here like a patient. It takes far too long for Sledge to return.

When Eugene does finally return, he's holding a big medic kit that definitely is going to be missed somewhere.

"What'd you have to take off to get that?" Snafu asks, his voice mean, "Your pants?"

"I'll return it when I'm done," Sledge tells him in a no nonsense tone. He sets the kit down and flips it open. "I'll need to open the waist of your pants though, do you mind?"

Snafu looks to the sky to avoid Sledge's concerned gaze. "Don't care," Snafu says as nonchalantly as he is able. He wets his lips and squeezes his eyes shut.

Sledge gently uncrosses Snafu's arms and moves them to the side. When Sledge unbuttons Snafu's pants, Snafu takes a deep breath. His stomach constricts, and he knows his bones are poking out embarrassingly far. Sledge's hands are warm and surprisingly soft. Cleaning everything, and putting a tiny amount of stitches near Snafu's waistband area doesn't take Sledge long at all. Before Snafu even gets to fully enjoy the feeling of Eugene's fingers sliding over his most sensitive area, Eugene is already buttoning Snafu's pants back up and smoothing his shirt down. Snafu flicks the shirt back off, deciding if he's already indecent he might as well continue that way.

Snafu moves to sit up, but Sledge puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay down for a bit," Sledge says, "I want my shirt back though. Here." He scoots next to the wall at Snafu's head and then helps Snafu lean forward enough that Sledge can reclaim his stolen shirt. Sledge throws the shirt on and then scoots closer again, beckoning Snafu to lay back down.

Having his head in Sledge's lap is about a thousand times more distracting than Eugene touching his skin. There was a medical excuse for that. There's no goddamn excuse for this.

As if reading Snafu's mind, Sledge decides to up the ante and he runs his hand along the clean skin beside Snafu's wound. Sledge's hand continues up to Snafu's chest and then stops. Sledge picks at a brown spot of dried mud below Snafu's sternum till it pops off and he can flick it away onto the deck. He then massages away the sting and leaves his hand resting there.

Snafu daringly rests his own hand on top of Sledge's. He doesn't breathe even once till they're both settled and Eugene doesn't pull away.

"You need a shower, Snafu," Sledge comments.

"You gonna give me one?" Snafu lolls his head so he can see Sledge's face.

"Only way to do that now would be to toss you off the ship," Sledge says seriously.

"That a no?" Snafu guesses.

Sledge glances down at Snafu with his signature 'I know better than you, but I am also amused' expression, and then stares blankly out towards the sea. He sighs, "Sleep off the seasickness. I promise I won't snore."

Snafu silently watches Eugene's profile for a while before he finally closes his eyes.

Sledge keeps his promise. He doesn't fall asleep once during the entire time Snafu is out. Sledge does, however, eventually remove his hand from atop Snafu's chest and that wakes Snafu up instantly.

Snafu stays perfectly still, and tries to breathe as even as possible. He doesn't want Sledge to notice he's awake and kick Snafu out of his lap.

Snafu carefully peeks one eye open, and sees two hands hovering above his head holding a book and pencil.

"Writing again?" Snafu accuses.

"Hmmm," Sledge says.

"What about?" Snafu asks.

"You," Sledge responds.

Snafu smiles. He knows Sledge is just being obtuse and not actually writing about him, but still, "Tell me."

"No," Sledge refuses.

Snafu eyes Sledge's hands and attempts to determine how much force it would take for him to grab the book away.

"If you take this bible from me, I'll never let you sleep on me again," Sledge warns.

"What makes you think that's a threat?" Snafu teases. He sits up and tries to lean over to read Sledge's writing.

"Because you slept like a baby during your nap," Sledge says. He angles the book away from Snafu's prying eyes.

"Plenty of other guys in the company more comfortable than you to sleep on, Sledgehammer," Snafu says.

Sledge looks Snafu straight in the eye and dares him, "Then why don't you go find them?"

Snafu holds his gaze for a few breaths. And then wordlessly puts his head back in Eugene's lap.

Sledge calmly sets down his pencil and book, and threads his hand into Snafu's hair instead. "You know what I miss?" Sledge idly scratches Snafu's head as he talks, "Having an inexhaustible supply of blank paper."

"I still don't understand how you've managed to hold onto that one pencil nub for so long," Snafu comments. If talking means Sledge will massage his head, Snafu will do anything to carry this conversation.

"Writing in my bible is well and good, but nothing compares to a fresh blank sheet," Sledge states, "I can't believe that in school I used to tear pages up, or throw them away if I made even one typewriter mistake."

"We should find you a new pencil," Snafu continues his own train of thought, "Or maybe a couple."

"What a waste," Sledge sighs over his stupid crumpled typewriter pages.

"I bet the officers' tent in camp has pencils," Snafu muses.

"You need to borrow a pencil?" Sledge asks, "Sorry, I wasn't listening for a minute. Here, take mine." He hands Snafu the tiny nubby remains.

"Thanks, Sledgehammer," Snafu says and sticks the pencil behind his ear to remind himself later.

The first thing Snafu does on Pavuvu is go scrounging for paper. The constant stream of people coming in and out of the officer's tents makes it particularly easy to search. Snafu gets five pencils on only one run. He doesn't dare take the brand new stacks of paper. It would be too obviously missed. Instead he hunts through trash bins around the camp, and pulls out anything that looks clean and innocuous.

Snafu figures any important classified documents are being shredded or burned immediately anyway. No chance of him accidentally picking up something he shouldn't.

It takes a few days, but finally Snafu hits the jackpot. An entire stack of half used blank sheet notebooks. They're spiral bound, and the edges are dirty, and the covers don't look particularly pretty. But the pages inside are clean. Snafu takes his stack behind the mess tent and scrubs off some of the dirt stains.

A few of the notebooks are too gross to be salvageable. For these he carefully cleans his knife, and cuts out the crisp pages individually.

When he's finished he leaves his collection on Sledge's cot with the pencils resting on top of everything. Satisfied, Snafu takes a step back and surveys his work. Then realizes he can't let it look like he is doing Gene any favors. He sticks his hands out and musses the papers completely so the stacks are no longer neat and the pages aren't ordered by type. But he leaves the pencils on top. He doesn't want them to get lost or sat on.

At first Sledge doesn't say anything about Snafu's gift. The next time Snafu stops by the empty tent, the paper and notebooks are neatly stacked on a high shelf to keep it out of the way of crabs and vermin. It warms Snafu to see how organized the messy pile he left became. Even the pencils are safe and snug wrapped in a little handmade pouch.

Snafu takes the warm feeling with him to chow that evening.

"Did you wake up on the right side of the bed for once, Snaf?" Burgie asks.

Snafu brushes his comments off with a smile and sarcastic look.

Sledge looks up the minute he realizes Snafu is sitting down. "Hey," he says eloquently.

"Hey," Snafu says back. He sets his tray down and pulls out his cigarettes.

"I swear you smoke more than you eat," Sledge observes. He eyes Snafu's still mostly full and cooling plate of food.

"I only put things in my mouth if it's worth the bother," Snafu tells him, smirking.

"Are you saying warm mush isn't worth it?" Bill jokes as he polishes off his own bowl heartily.

Snafu laughs at Bill's graceless eating, till he realizes Eugene is staring. Not at Bill, but at Snafu. And looking very mournful for some reason. Unable to stand seeing Eugene looking that way, Snafu anxiously extends his hand to touch Sledge's knuckles, and then offers him a smoke.

"No thanks, Snafu," Sledge says, very unfriendly and possibly looking to start a fight, "I prefer to eat my meals."

"Has anyone gotten any letters from home yet?" Burgie changes the subject brightly.

Bill shakes his head.

"Nothing but my mother's usual package," Sledge says. He notices Snafu staring at him with quiet interest and adds with a sigh, "Yes, Snafu, I saved you your favorite jar."

Snafu smiles, "See, always worth it to wait." He grabs his unused spoon off the table and slips it into his pants for later.

"Sid still hasn't written to tell me if he made it home okay," Sledge says with a worried frown.

"I'm sure he did," Burgie says kindly.

"What about you, Burg?" Snafu interrupts, "You hear anything from Florence lately?"

"She's written, yes," Burgie says and turns as red as the canned beets Sledge's mother mailed last week.

Snafu whistles, Leyden begs Burgie to read any exciting bits aloud, and Sledge politely asks who Florence is.

"Burgie's girl he met in Australia after Gloucester," Snafu explains.

"I knew she liked me because she was the only girl not flocking around Snaf," Burgie jokes.

"Like flies to shit?" Bill snaps, "Snafu being the shit 'n ass."

"Don't think he slept in the stadium bunks with the rest of us even once," Jay laughs.

"I had more worthwhile places to go," Snafu says and eyes Sledge to gauge his reaction. He lazily takes a drag on his cigarette.

"Think we'll be given liberty in Australia again sometime?" Sledge asks. He holds Snafu's gaze steady.

"Don't care," Snafu shrugs.

"Unfortunately no," Burgie says, "I suspect we'll be run ragged till this war is over."

"At least she writes you," Bill interjects, "You'll just have to skip over thataway and pick her up before going home at the end of all this."

"Not sure how I'll manage that," Burgie takes a deep breath, "But it's true, I think she felt as strongly as I did. She expresses it well in her letters."

Bill whines that Burgie is holding out on his buddies by not divulging the content of said letters. He and Burgie get into a heated discussion that mostly consists of Bill begging and wallowing in self pity over not having any sweethearts.

Snafu and Eugene ignore them. Once Sledge finishes his meal, Snafu offers his cigarette again, and Sledge accepts. They pass it back and forth as they watch the sunset over the beach in the distance. Snafu wallows in every single touch of their fingers during each exchange.

"Speaking of mail," Sledge starts, "Snafu, did you leave paper on my bunk?"

"Why would I leave paper on your bunk?" Snafu scoffs.

"I thought maybe you were writing a letter and forgot it, or something?" Sledge asks, as though he isn't smart enough to put two and two together. No one accidentally leaves a jumble of notebooks lying around. Not when they're such a hard commodity to find.

Bill barks a laugh "Snafu writing? Can you imagine...that'd be the day."

"The only paper I ever concern myself with is asswipe," Snafu taunts. He dangles his cigarette out of his mouth and smirks at Leyden. Snafu throws one cautious glance over to Sledge and immediately regrets it.

Instead of being grateful, Sledge is annoyed. He snatches the cigarette straight out of Snafu's mouth. Sledge's fingers press into Snafu's lips briefly before he steals the smoke away, almost like a gentle punch. The unexpected touch and Sledge's deadly serious glare turns Snafu hot down to his toes.

Sledge finishes the cigarette in dead silence, and rather than stub it into the ashtray, he takes the nub and sticks it back between Snafu's lips. Sledge abruptly stands, grabs his tray, and stalks off without another word.

Leyden awkwardly coughs and gives Snafu a sympathetic look.

"Did you dump a bunch of papers on Eugene's bed?" Burgie asks Snafu for clarification.

"Fuck no," Snafu lies. They know he's lying. He grinds the cigarette into dust on the ashtray.

"Maybe I should have mentioned the Australian guys were buzzing around you, too," Jay suggests to Snafu, "Except there were less of them thanks to the war."

"Don't think that would've helped, Jay," Burgie says.

"Yeah?" Snafu says. He climbs over the mess hut wall and walks off.

[wedreamedlove]

Xu Mo vs. Mo Yi [Character Study]

I can never get over the aesthetic of these two pictures placed side by side LOL. But, anyway, the point of this post is to nip any undue comparisons in the bud and claims of copying organize my thoughts and compare these two characters to highlight their similarities, differences, and further explore each character through these contrasts.

Q) If you like Xu Mo, would you like Mo Yi?

Honestly, I think this depends on what you like most about Xu Mo. I already knew beforehand that I gravitate towards characters who think 5 steps ahead, are predominantly logical, and scholars/gentlemen, so it’s not surprising I bias both Xu Mo and Mo Yi.

However, as I got to know Mo Yi further (Themis is around 6 months old now), I find that he’s distinctively different from Xu Mo on three crucial points that’ll determine whether people from either camp will like the other character.

1) Stance on Others

In a post for Xu Mo, “Into Your World”, I argued that Xu Mo is an alienated genius who had troubles getting along with others, until he mastered the social game as an adult. However, you can still see glimpses of this as he tries to understand MC’s world and shares his own.

To be fair, Mo Yi’s past is still under wraps but I feel confident in saying that, while he was probably highly intelligent compared to his peers [SR Sculpted Heart], his isolation doesn’t seem to come from his innate nature but rather his social position (there’s heavy implications that he’s like some sort of noble or something) [SR Snowy Pine Fairytale].

IMO, these backgrounds really shaped the way these two men interact with the world.

Xu Mo has a detached and indifferent view towards other people. They simply exist and don’t bring anything positive or negative to him. His ambition to ensure the survival of humanity reflects this too because it’s pure utilitarianism; everyone (apart from MC) can be sacrificed equally for the greater good. If anything, he probably finds other people to be interesting subjects to study, no matter what kind of person they are. IIRC the only time he expressed dislike to people, or a group of people, was when he told Hades he enjoyed killing thieves LOL.

Meanwhile, Mo Yi has an elitist streak to the point where he and his MC actually clashed opinions and debated each other [SR Warm Fingertips]. It’s incredibly ironic because he’s a psychiatrist who treats his patients without judgment, but at the same time he looks down on so many things and people (PUAs, people who betray love, hypocrites who only seek power and fame) [Ch2; Personal Story Ch1-3; SSR Moonlit Ball].

One of the things I noticed early on is that Xu Mo draws from the Eastern scholar archetype, “Xu Mo Character Study”, while Mo Yi actually draws more from the Western gentleman archetype.

So, just to summarize this section, Xu Mo is detached from the world naturally and likes to observe people and try to blend in. Mo Yi deliberately draws a line between him and others and, at times, has the casual cruelty of someone born as nobility (arrogance is carved into his bones, even if he tends to keep it low-key because he generally has a “gentle and polite” attitude).

2) Stance on Love

Xu Mo didn’t understand love, or really even emotions. Love is grown between him and his MC (there’s multiple analogies throughout the game about how their love is like a seed). I think [Ch25] pretty much sums it up for Xu Mo, where he goes through that emotional rollercoaster and muses about how, at the end of human evolution, emotions should be discarded. He also admits that MC taught him the “fear” of a normal person, because now he has someone he cannot give up no matter what, which goes against his previous utilitarian beliefs.

Compared to this, Mo Yi fell in love at first sight. Yes, you read that right. The “scientist and logical” archetype fell in love at first sight LOL. Not only does he acknowledge it right off the bat, but he fully embraces it too and believes that real love makes people better versions of themselves [Personal Story]. Mo Yi is a through and through psychiatrist in that he never underestimates how primal emotions (and love) can be.

Heck, not only is this central to his personal story, but we also have hints that one of Mo Yi’s parents fell in love at first sight with the other person (and he inherited their predisposition for that). Unfortunately, their love had a tragic end and Mo Yi seems to have a huge grudge against his father for whatever happened to his mother (again, Mihoyo is keeping this a mystery LOL), but Mo Yi explicitly confirms that even if his love leads to a tragic end he will still walk down this road and attempt to change it [SR Cool Summer].

IMO one other difference between them re: love is this exchange that lives rent free in my head which I saw in a Xu Mo/Reader/Mo Yi fanfiction LOL. Bear with me here.

Mo Yi: Wearing a mask for a long time will tire you.

Xu Mo: It’s enough just to wear one in front of the necessary person.

Xu Mo and his MC make great efforts to understand each other’s worlds, but this understanding comes from the doors he chooses to open to her. He reveals himself as much as possible, but I think he’s an inherently private person (and there’s all that Ares stuff) so there are times where he hides things so that he doesn’t worry his MC. I think this is enough to count as a “mask”. Sometimes he pretends he’s okay when he’s not.

On the other hand, while I think Mo Yi shares the sentiment in not wanting his MC to worry unduly, he tries to reveal himself as much as possible. There’s an amazingly relatable conflict in him here where he wants her to know every side of him, but he’s also terrified of how she’ll react if he shows her his ugliest sides and imperfect sides (he has some sort of phobia or fear about imperfection, but Mihoyo has been keeping mum on the exact details of this so far) [Personal Story; SR Sculpted Heart].

It’s pretty ironic that Mo Yi wants to be perfect, but he realizes that the more perfect he is the more of a sense of distance there’ll be between him and his MC because of the subconscious pressure someone “perfect” brings LOL [SSR Border of Light and Darkness].

3) Stance on Growth

If you haven’t realized that one of Xu Mo’s greatest themes is the phrase “Take your time in growing”, then what have you been reading? Jkjk, but seriously this gets repeated in multiple places, although my brain always goes back to [Blossom Date] for this.

Even if he and his MC start off with fundamental differences (she believes all people have inherent worth and can’t be involuntarily sacrificed), he wants to personally watch the journey of her maturation. He also subtly guides and teaches her. Unfortunately, due to circumstances of the main story, he doesn’t get his wish and she grows up a lot out of his eyes, but their relationship still revolves around him wanting her to have as much time as possible to grow.

He’s, for a lack of better word, extremely gentle about this (setting aside as much of the Ares and story parts as we can, because LovePro’s story is tragedy on tragedy LOL). I think [Autumn Blaze Date] shows a good analogy for this, because he holds the bicycle steady for MC until she can get going on her own, and he also catches her the first time.

Meanwhile, Mo Yi... ha ha ha. I just came out of chapter 3 for his [Personal Story] and let’s just say his philosophy is tough love. It’s ironic because, in many of his other dates, he wrestles with an internal conflict to protect his MC but also to let her experience all sorts of things to both test and temper her.

This is going to touch on the previous topic about love for a moment, but a part of Mo Yi’s love at first sight experience is also “testing” the other person through all sorts of situations and, after seeing all their different sides, he can determine whether his love at first sight is one that’ll last for the rest of his life or if it’s just a fleeting moment of beauty and emotion.

He also extremely respects his MC’s sense of justice and pursuit of the truth in the world, no matter what she encounters, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this is what drew him to her in the first place. But MC’s occupation and beliefs will make her confront a lot of dark and dangerous things and so, whenever possible, Mo Yi lets her confront these in “controlled” situations to train her. If I had to make an analogy, IMO, he’d let his MC ride the bicycle and pick her up only after she falls, or when she’s like 0.1cm away from the ground LOL.

Mo Yi is (perhaps rightfully) called out on this by another character, who believes Mo Yi is too arrogant in believing everything is under his control and he can prevent MC from getting hurt whenever he lets her get into dangerous situations, and I’m interested to see if Mihoyo will let him experience failures with his philosophy so he can grow more, like the things Xu Mo went through re: his personal beliefs [Ch24].

Overall

I don’t know how well I explained myself, especially for people who don’t know anything about Mo Yi, and each section goes back and forth between the two characters LOL so here’s another section that attempts to describe their overall atmosphere.

If, like I said in my Headcanon Notes, Xu Mo makes me immediately think of all the words for soft, gentle, light, still, water, etc etc., then the words I constantly think about for Mo Yi is messily human. He’s like a bundle of contradictions, but coherent because it’s being intentionally done.

Mo Yi doesn’t discriminate against his patients, yet he can be elitist and looks down on others. He wants to let MC have dangerous experiences, but also wants to protect her. He wants to be perfect, but he also wants to reveal himself entirely to his MC because that’s real love.

In contrast, Xu Mo has a very clean and orderly personality LOL. You can draw clear cause and effect lines from his personality to his actions.

So, anyway, these are two interesting characters who start off with similar archetypes as scientific logical men of scholar/gentleman dispositions, but yet they’re also on opposite ends for a lot of things such as their approach to emotions and the world.

Oh wait, lastly, because I don’t have a good place to put this—but I think it’s funny—is that both characters are pretty possessive and greedy, but while Xu Mo does things in a sneaky, cunning and fox-like way Mo Yi gets ridiculously open about his jealousy and it’s hilariously cute but also almost childish? I often forget Mo Yi is older than Xu Mo by a year, because Xu Mo honestly feels a bit more mature than him LOL. If we count them actually aging by when their game came out though, then Mo Yi is 28 and Xu Mo is 29 now.

[jeogiyall]

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆 ఌ ℎ.𝑠𝑤

❥𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾'𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿; 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅! 𝖺𝗎

❥𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗒/𝗇 𝗑 𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗈 (𝗏𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗇)

❥𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟝.𝟟𝟛𝑘

❥𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 ᴀʀɪ! 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗏𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁, 𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗈

❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾

The bell rings to signal the end of your Spanish class. You sling your bag over your shoulder and stand up, grabbing your textbook and preparing to leave; but your teacher’s voice stops you before you have the chance to go.

“Y/N, are you free to chat for a few minutes?” Your steps come to a sudden halt, the rest of your classmates brushing past you to get out of the room.

You gulp and hug your textbook closer to your chest, your teacher’s summons sparking a pool of nerves as you wonder what on earth she needs to talk to you about.

“Sure, what do you need?” You reply. You don’t have another class until the end of the day anyways, so you don’t have to rush off just yet.

You catch your best friend’s eye and can only offer a shrug when she raises one eyebrow at you, and then she’s trailing out of the classroom along with everyone else, leaving you to hesitantly take a seat in front of your Spanish teacher’s desk.

You fiddle with the strap of your bookbag and try to shake off the feeling that you’ve done something wrong.

“Y/N,” She begins softly, “I’m sure you know that you’re one of our Spanish program’s brightest students. Your comprehension skills are sharp and your pronunciation is muy excelente. You’re also a fantastic classmate to your friends when they need your help.”

You don’t know what to make of the proud smile on her face; but it makes you smile a little, too. She continues, “I’ve been very impressed by your work recently, and I’d like to ask you for a favor.”

You nod slowly. So you weren’t in trouble after all- even though you couldn’t think of anything you’d done that would make Ms. Carmen upset with you, it was good to know she wasn’t giving you a lecture.

“Of course, how can I help you?”

Ms. Carmen folds her hands on the desk in front of her and says, “I have a student I want you to tutor for me.”

Your grip on your bag tightens instantly.

“You want me to tutor someone?” Your voice wavers with uncertainty, “I’m not sure I’d be a very good tutor. I, um, I have a lot of classes I’m taking other than this one, and I don’t really know if I have enough time...” You stop yourself from getting too far in your nervous rambling and meet your teacher’s disappointed gaze.

“That’s alright, Y/N. I knew it was a lot to ask of you. I understand you’re a busy student, so don’t trouble yourself; I’ll find another tutor.” She sighs, and the sound makes your heart sag, feeling guilty all of a sudden.

You contemplate the offer for a few more moments, rolling it around in your mind. On the one hand, you are pretty busy; you actually don’t have that many classes this semester, but the workload is tough enough to make up for it.

Yet on the other hand, you really love Spanish, and you like helping people out wherever you can. You may not be overly confident in your abilities as a tutor; but if Ms. Carmen needs you to help another student in your class, then you feel strongly obligated to step up and be the one to do it. Besides, it can’t be too horrible- you figure the most you’ll have to do will probably be to show someone how to count to twenty.

You nod again and square your shoulders, looking your teacher in the eyes. “Actually, I can tutor them. It won’t be a problem.” You assure her.

Her smile returns, and with it comes a small amount of confidence that you’ll be able to prove yourself wrong, that you’ll turn out to be a great tutor. Her words are warm as she responds, “I’m glad to hear that, Y/N. I knew I could count on you.”

You mirror her grin, and with a wave of her hand, she gestures towards the door and tells you you’re free to go. You walk out of the classroom and towards the courtyard with every intention of eating your lunch, though you’ll most likely end up asking yourself who possibly needs you to tutor them in Spanish so badly... maybe it’s just an underclassmen who could use the extra help.

Or maybe, you think as you open up your textbook on the lunch table, you should just stop stressing yourself out about this so much and eat your food before the bell rings again.

❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾

You smooth out your skirt and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet, glancing at the time on your phone. 3:30 pm- the student you’re supposed to tutor should’ve been here fifteen minutes ago. You mindlessly scroll through social media to dispel your nerves, telling yourself to stop being worried over something so small. You’re sure there’s a perfectly good reason they’re late.

Your eyes scan the almost full library for a place to sit once your student finally gets here, hoping you won’t have to sit in one of the back rooms that are notorious for being a hookup spot. The mere thought of working on one of those tables is enough to gross you out.

You’ve been waiting at the front of your school’s library for the last fifteen minutes; the two assistants at the checkout desk have been sending you curious looks and whispering subtly, and you’re sure they’re talking about you. They most likely think you’re being stood up on a study date- which, to be honest, it kind of feels as if you are being stood up. You decide you’ll give it just five more minutes before calling it quits and going home.

You keep scrolling through your phone until you hear someone ask the assistants about a Spanish tutor. They point in your direction and the guy turns around, your lungs shutting down the moment your eyes land on him.

You realize he isn’t just any old freshman or sophomore kid. Instead, you’ve been assigned to tutor Han Seungwoo- the high school’s golden boy.

Seungwoo recognizes you instantly, knowing you as the smart girl who always aces every Spanish test. He knows Ms. Carmen wouldn’t pair him up with just anyone, so he should have suspected he’d be put with one of the smartest people in his class.

What he didn’t know, however, was how cute you looked when your head wasn’t buried in your book; his heart jumps at the way you’re bouncing on your toes, your hair tucked behind your ear and your eyes going wide once you recognize who he is.

He wonders how he could’ve ever missed the sweetness in your smile before.

You clutch your phone tightly to keep yourself together when Seungwoo makes his way over to you, hoping your breathing will go back to normal before he hears you hyperventilate.

He’s so much more handsome in person than how your boy-crazy best friend describes him. She makes Seungwoo seem untouchable and detached, always harping on his sharp jawline and his cold charms. But up close, he’s not like that at all; you find that his eyes hold a soft warmth in them, and the brown hair that flops over his forehead is practically begging you to run your fingers through it. He all but towers over you in his high top sneakers and red sweater, and he couldn’t look any more approachable if he tried. You quickly conclude that your best friend’s got it all wrong.

You also conclude that if you don’t quit staring at him like a stalker, then Seungwoo is going to run in the opposite direction as fast as he possibly can.

You snap yourself out of it and offer a shy smile, slipping your phone into your pocket. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Are you the one Ms. Carmen asked me to tutor?” You mentally cheer at how stable your voice is, even if it’s a little soft.

Seungwoo smiles brightly back at you, and you could swear he’s intentionally trying to make you melt into a puddle on the floor. “Hi Y/N! I’m Seungwoo,” He introduces himself as if he isn’t the heartthrob of the century, and you bite your lip to keep from confessing that you already know him. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, but I had to talk to Coach about missing practice or else he wouldn’t let me go.”

That’s right- you’d forgotten he was on the football team, too. Your tiny little crush shrivels up and dies in your heart, your brain reminding you that you’re just tutoring the school’s star defense player, and that it will never be more than that. For one thing, it would be the most cliché circumstance to ever happen in your life; not to mention that it’s also the most unrealistic thing to hope for. You squash down your stupid schoolgirl feelings and nod your head at Seungwoo.

“Of course, don’t feel bad,” You tell him, “I just wasn’t sure if you were going to come. Now that you’re here, where do you wanna sit?”

You’ve got a suspicion that you might just end up in the back room, not seeing an empty table anywhere; thankfully, Seungwoo spots a group getting up to leave and motions for you to follow that way. You walk past the group and sit down slowly, letting your bag drop onto the table and pulling out your textbook.

He takes one look at it and groans, rubbing a hand over his temple. “I can’t believe I forgot my textbook. I didn’t mean to be so scatterbrained...” The tips of his ears are turning slightly pink, and the sight is so endearing that you can’t even pretend to be disappointed.

“It’s fine, you can just use mine today.” You console, sliding it over to him. He sheepishly opens it and grabs his notebook from his bag.

“So what do you want to do first?” You ask. Your nerves are starting to get to you, and you twirl your pencil around in your fingers. Seungwoo sees your fidgeting and raises an eyebrow.

“It seems like you’re nervous,” He observes, and your breath catches when he so casually exposes you. “Maybe we should get to know each other a little bit? After all, I think we’re gonna be working together for at least the next month, if not more. I don’t want to be strangers.”

Your heart flutters against your will at his suggestion. “I’m not nervous,” You respond defensively, “I’ve just never tutored anyone before. I don’t know if I’ll be any good.”

Seungwoo shuts the textbook and rests his elbows on the table, giving you all of his attention. “Based on how great you are in class, I’m sure you’ll be a huge help. Don’t sweat it.” He tells you, causing a warm blush to rise on your cheeks.

“How about we play twenty questions?” He asks without warning, “I’ll start if you don’t want to go first. Deal?” You nod, putting the pencil down.

He clears his throat. “Let’s start out easy. Favorite color?”

You blurt out red without any thought. You don’t actually have a favorite, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how handsome Seungwoo looks sitting across from you in that red sweater; and from the slight smirk that pulls at his lips, you think he’s caught onto what’s happening in your head. How embarrassing.

“Look at that, we’ve got the same favorite color. Never would’ve pinned you for a red girl.” He teases, briefly taking in your fuzzy light blue shirt. You shake your head to hide how easily flustered he makes you.

“Seungwoo, we should really get to studying. Don’t you have a lesson you want to go over today?” You say with a small sigh. As much as you want to get to know him, to learn what makes him smile or what he wants to do with his life, you’re acutely aware of how urgent Ms. Carmen was about getting you to tutor him. The last thing you want is to let her down; and it looks like there’s not much time to waste.

Seungwoo just shrugs his shoulders and leans closer to you over the table, sending butterflies swooping in your tummy. You almost wish he wasn’t this handsome- maybe then you wouldn’t be such a nervous wreck. “I didn’t have anything specific in mind,” He admits reluctantly, “all I know is that I’m failing right now and if I don’t pull my grade up, I won’t get to play for the rest of this season. I can’t let the boys down, y’know?”

You can’t help but admire the obvious loyalty Seungwoo has towards his team. You didn’t expect someone like him to so openly wear his heart on his sleeve, and it’s already showing signs of causing a problem. You don’t think your poor heart can handle a month of his easy smile or his confident manner.

His brown eyes are on yours, and you have the sudden urge to hold his hand and tell him he’ll do just fine, that you’ll do whatever it takes to get him back in the game. You push the thought away before it gets stuck in your head and instead reach for the textbook again.

“Then let’s get to it.” You say, the words soft yet determined. If you didn’t have a reason to help him out before, then at least now you’ve got a goal to work towards. You don’t want him to get kicked off the team.

He doesn’t let up his curious gaze, and it feels like he can see past your face and straight inside of you, as if he can read your mind. Your blush refuses to go away and you avert your stare to the book on the table, opening it up to the first chapter to start reviewing what he knows so far.

On the other side of the table, Seungwoo thinks to himself that this might end up being the longest month of his life.

How on earth is he supposed to focus on a language he doesn’t understand when you’re sitting there so cutely right in front of him, your cheeks glowing softly and your hair falling into your eyes? How is he going to remember anything of importance with your small hands tracing over the words on the page, skimming the lines like it’s a map to your heart?

And how is he ever going to remember anything that isn’t the way your lips pull into a polite smile when you catch him looking at you?

As you try to get Seungwoo to remember some simple adjectives, the only one he can recall is hermosa; but he thinks that maybe telling you that on your first meeting together wouldn’t quite be appropriate- and he thinks that maybe Spanish just got a whole lot harder.

❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾

“No, Seungwoo, gato is the word for cat. We’re talking about school supplies, not animals.” You correct gently.

The last week or so of tutoring Han Seungwoo has been anything but a breeze. While he’s trying his best to learn from you, you didn’t realize how far behind he’s been in class. It took you three sessions just to get through basics like counting and introductions, and you haven’t even bothered to work on his pronunciation yet; you’ve got bigger things for him to master first.

While you’d made some significant progress- he could now count into the hundreds and successfully tell people his name, age, and nationality- you’ve still got a long way to go.

You’ve been meeting up in the library after school every day so far, and he’d taken extra care to make sure he didn’t make you wait as long as he did on the first day. You normally spend an hour minimum in the quieter section of the library, away from the chatter of students using the computers, and you’ve had to check out another Spanish textbook when Seungwoo discovered he’d lost his for real.

Today, one week into tutoring, you’d been working with him on school supplies and classroom phrases.

“So...” Seungwoo trails off, a look of confusion on his face that shouldn’t be so heartachingly handsome, “the word for staple is grapa? Why does it sound so much like the word for cat? That’s not fair.” He fails to hold back a pout, making you laugh.

“Sorry Seungwoo, I don’t make the rules.” You offer an excuse. His shoulders slump and he starts drawing aimless circles on his paper, which you’ve written over in red ink to try and help him get the hang of nouns.

“You at least know them,” He says in a dull tone, “but what do I know? Football and chemistry, that’s it. I can pass chemistry, but I’m failing Spanish.” You feel that odd urge to hold his hand again, but like the last few times it’s happened, you shove it out of your brain as quickly as it appeared.

You instead ruffle his hair (which is exactly as soft as you’d imagined it was) and give him your own sulky pout, “Hey, that’s nothing to complain about. Chemistry is more foreign to me than Spanish, I don’t even know how I passed.” You admit honestly.

At the sight of your frown, Seungwoo thinks his heart has stopped working, because it’s beating too fast for him to function. He wants nothing more than to kiss that little pout off of you and bring back your sweet grin; and while that idea should be alarming, he finds that he has no issues with it at all. The only issue is that he has no idea how you’d respond to something so sudden and unwarranted.

Your tutoring sessions have been driving Seungwoo absolutely nuts over the last few days. He has no clue how he’s never noticed you before now, because your innocent eyes and small smiles have been living in his mind rent-free since the day you met him in the library. He’d normally be concerned about how quickly he’s become infatuated with you, but you make it easy with your cute expressions and your fuzzy oversized sweaters; anyone who knows him well would be able to tell that he’s got it bad.

Lucky for him, you’ve just been chalking up his inability to memorize the material to his lack of interest in Spanish.

“Let’s try again,” You suggest quietly, rounding the table to stand over him. You turn the page of the textbook to the next worksheet, free of red pen marks, and point at the first blank row. “Write out the words in English first from the pictures, then again in Spanish.”

Seungwoo fights back the desire to lace your hands with his much larger ones, wanting so badly to feel how they’d fit together.

An idea pops into your head as you think of ways to motivate him. “If you get them right, I’ll give you a prize!” You chirp, hoping to inspire him enough for him to really apply himself. He perks up visibly and pokes your side, wanting to know what the prize is, but you shake your head and swat his arm away. “You’ll just have to find out when I check your work.” You taunt.

It does the trick, too- when he finally fills in the last blank and hands you the worksheet, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that every single answer is correct.

“Did I do it?” He asks excitedly, reminding you of a puppy. You nod and draw a smiley face on the sheet, giving it back to him without writing all over it. You’re shocked at how easy it was to get him to try, and you hadn’t actually planned on him getting it right first try.

He shuts the book and stuffs his papers and pencil into his bag, quickly sliding out of his chair to stand next to you. Now he’s really acting like a puppy, practically bounding over to you and playfully nudging you with his elbow.

“Y/N, what’s the prize?” He asks again. You collect your own things and stand up, not even bothering to elbow him back.

You fiddle with the straps and look down at your shoes as you mumble, “I, um, I was gonna take us to the coffee shop a few blocks away to finish up. I figured we could use a change of scenery.” Your voice is unsteady, much like your heart rate; but who can blame you when Seungwoo is looming over you with an obvious twinkle in his eye? Your tummy does backflips from the way he’s so blatantly staring- you’re unused to all the attention.

He uses one finger beneath your chin to tilt your head up, his fond expression making you wonder if he’s even real or if you’re just hallucinating.

“That’s perfect, Y/N, I’d really like that.” He says. Your eyes linger on his lips; and you let yourself have one selfish thought, thinking of how it might feel to go on your tiptoes and press your own against them, imagining for only a moment how his hand would cradle your face-

“Are we going to go, or did you wanna stare some more?” He questions with a cocky smirk, secretly enjoying the curious way you’re looking at him. You turn beet red and stutter awkwardly, wishing you had something to hide yourself behind.

“I wasn’t staring, I was just... zoning out.” You attempt to lie, but it’s no use. You got caught red-handed and you both know it. Once you realize you won’t be getting your dignity back any time soon, you spin on your heel and walk out of the library, not needing to look behind you to know he’s following closely.

His hand brushes yours as you exit the school and begin the short walk to the coffee shop downtown, sending sweet chills all the way up your arm. “Whatever you say, stalker.” He mutters teasingly. You lightly shove his side, making him laugh.

“I am so not a stalker!” You defend dramatically. He doesn’t respond, just glances at you with a smile so sweet that it reaches his eyes and instantly melts your heart, and you have to tell yourself to snap out of it before you dwell on his antics for too long.

“Keep telling yourself that.” He eventually responds.

You give him a pouty side-eye and cross your arms like a little kid, “I’m not a stalker.”

Seungwoo swears that he’s never wanted to kiss anyone so badly before in his life.

❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾

At the end of your third week tutoring Seungwoo, you’ve completely given up on trying to ignore the way he makes your heart flutter; now, all you can do is try to keep yourself from becoming a blushing mess in his presence for the two hours a day you’re both together.

You’d made the mutual decision to move your sessions out of the library and into the coffee shop, a cute little place named Mayday Café. While it was a great place to study, with more room for you to spread out and work, it also had it’s drawbacks (which came directly in the form of sweet cream and caffeine).

Though you aren’t sure ‘drawbacks’ is the right word; maybe the word you’re looking for is ‘temptations’.

It certainly isn’t distractions. You had your own personal, living-and-breathing distraction already right there in front of you; one named Han Seungwoo.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he’s flirting with you a lot these days. He’s been quick to buy you your magic bean juice every time he sees you glance at the counter, never letting you pay for it no matter how many times you protest, and he’s even started causally calling you nicknames like princess and cutie.

He makes you nervous and excited at the same time, always causing your cheeks to turn pink and your pulse to race. You aren’t sure if he knows what he’s doing- he carries such an easygoing manner about him that you can’t really tell what he’s thinking- but you know for a fact that it’s having an effect on you, even if it isn’t intentional.

You also think that must have some idea of what he’s doing to you, because no one can be that touchy and still be oblivious.

Currently, it was 4:50 on a Friday afternoon. Your drink was long gone, your cup left on the edge of the table as you and Seungwoo sat side by side, heads bent down to read over a page in your Spanish textbooks during the last ten minutes of today’s tutoring session.

One hand gripped his pen tightly while the other was tangled in his hair, a habit of his you’d discovered he did whenever he was deeply involved in something. You peeked subtly at him while pretending to read your own book, although in reality you were just trying to memorize the endearing scrunch of his nose and the way he mouthed the words silently to himself.

Five more minutes went by until he looked up from the vocabulary words, removing the hand in his hair and marking his place before closing the textbook. You raised an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for him to translate what he’d just read. You had confidence he was going to get this lesson right after spending the entire session in one chapter alone.

He meets your gaze head-on, the only sign that you’re getting more than you bargained for being the way his mouth quirks up into that familiar self-assured grin, and says in an astonishingly good Spanish accent, “Eres demasiado linda para tu propio bien.”

You gulp and sense yourself clenching the pencil in your hand a little too hard, feeling equally floored and flustered by Seungwoo’s unexpected words. You can’t stop the swarm of butterflies that comes to life inside you, taking flight and raising your hopes far higher than you intended for them to go.

You don’t think you can form a coherent sentence around the lump in your throat, opening and closing your mouth until you settle for an uneasy “Wh-what?”

Seungwoo knows you heard him loud and clear, but he repeats it anyways, wanting to save the image of your nervous blush and replay it in his mind forever. “I said, eres demasiado linda para tu propio bien; haces que sea difícil concentrarte, cariña.” *see glossary at the end for translations*

He can tell purely from the way your eyes widen that you perfectly understand what he’s saying. He’d looked it up a thousand times on google translate, his latest search history reading ‘how to call someone cute in Spanish’ just so he could impress you. But when you continue to wordlessly stare up at him, he thinks he’s the real winner here; he wouldn’t mind if you looked adoringly at him like this for the rest of his life.

You blink rapidly and try to pull your thoughts together. “Umm... lo siento? I think? That was, uh, you had really good pronunciation just then...” You’re tripping over yourself to get some sort of response out, but it’s proving to be a difficult feat when Han Seungwoo’s hand rests gently on your leg like it was made to lay there. Your breathing grows shallow and shaky, all from one single touch, and it’s gonna be the thing to make you break what little composure you have left.

He traces lazy shapes on the hem of your skirt, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or give you the wrong idea. He just wants to be close to you, to see the gleam in your doe eyes as he cautiously puts his hand over your leg in a sudden display of affection.

It’s one touch- but it’s enough to set the ball rolling.

You’d be stupid not to ask the question at this point; he’s passed through the land of friendliness and is crossing the border into a territory that could end up being dangerous for your heart. But you still need to know, not willing to put up with another night of what if’s plaguing your head once it hits the pillow.

You gather up your courage and place your hand on top of his, determined not to get too distracted by how small yours looks compared to his.

“Seungwoo,” You start despite the wobble in your tone, “I... I don’t know if this is just me, but you’ve been awfully flirty with me the last couple of weeks. Is there- is there a reason you’re doing it, or is it all for show?” You’re pleased that you were able to at least ask the question. “Why are you acting so... so charming? Is it just in my head?”

If Seungwoo thought he wanted to kiss you a week ago, then now he knows what it feels like to crave something- he’s never craved anything as badly as he longs to finally close the damn gap between your lips and his.

He assumed he would turn into an anxious mess when the time came to confess, expecting to lose his confidence and mix up all of his words. He’s glad that that isn’t the case today though- because the longer he looks at you, the more certain he feels that he’s yours, and he’s oh so eager to make you his; that is, if you’ll have him.

So although you wait for him to answer you with bated breath, Seungwoo is at ease knowing that this isn’t all in his head- knowing that you feel it, too.

“Princess, don’t you see it?” He says simply, his other hand coming up to skim along the side of your face, “You’re absolutely irresistible. I thought I was making it obvious how much I wanted you, how much I want to be with you. Are you finally telling me you want it, too?” His words are sweet, only carrying a small teasing lilt to them as he caresses your cheek with his thumb, “Are you telling me you wanna be mine?”

He brings your face closer to his, your neck craning up so you don’t lose eye contact. Your lips are only a few inches apart when he adds in a whisper, “Because I wanna be su novio, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t miss the way his stare drops to your mouth and stays there, not moving even when your arms find their way around his neck. You’re suddenly thankful for the building’s layout, the back corner you’d chosen helping to conceal the sweet moment from the rest of the world.

You can hardly breathe at this point- but you’re able to answer him as he pulls you in, “si.”

Seungwoo can’t stop the smile from spreading before his lips meet yours the way he’s wanted them to since the day you pouted at him in the library.

You have to hold back a sigh of content when you finally, finally get the kiss you’ve waited three weeks for; it’s better than you ever even imagined it could be, full of tenderness and longing, with him showing you exactly how crazy he is for you. You don’t rush, losing yourself in the way you softly melt together.

It’s a gentle kiss, intent on making up for lost time without expecting anything in return. Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his neck, making his smile grow even bigger against yours mouth; he’s made you feel so many things, but none of them felt as promising as this. This felt warm and inviting... like a hint of better things to come.

You pull away to catch the breath that’s sprinted from your lungs faster than a runner at a track meet.

“Y/N...” Seungwoo sounds as starstruck as you feel, “I know you’re my tutor, and we only met a couple of weeks ago.. but it would make me really, really feliz if you’d go on a date with me sometime.”

He has to restrain himself from pulling you in for another kiss when your face lights up with joy, head nodding up and down as your smile only spreads wider; you twirl his soft strands around your fingers wordlessly, unable to do anything except look into his eyes with all the happiness in the world. You still aren't over the fact that Han Seungwoo just kissed you- you don't think you'll get over it any time soon, to be honest. Though who could really blame you?

The butterflies have started to swoop madly in your chest, soaring higher and higher, making you feel like you're flying above the ground, never wanting to land again. You're floating on a bliss you could only describe as cloud nine.

Even Seungwoo's hand in yours on the way out of Mayday Cafe can't bring you back down to the ground.

"Something on your mind, Y/N?" He asks playfully, knowing full well that you're exactly as dazed and dizzy as he is. You roll your eyes and tighten your grip on his hand, memorizing the way his hands cup your own and lace your fingers together like they were always meant to intertwine.

"You." You answer shyly, ducking your head to hide your growing blush. Seungwoo thinks you're the most adorable human being to walk this planet, and he hopes he'll never have to let go of your small hand; never have to go a day without coaxing a timid smile from you or tease you til your cheeks turn red. He may not be good at Spanish, but he's found that he at least has good luck in another language- your love language.

A language he can only speak with you.

"As long as that's the case, feel free to keep zoning out." He doesn't let up his relentless flirting and you childishly smack his side with your free hand. He laughs at your weak attempt and squeezes your hand gently; you almost shudder from the sparks shooting through your fingertips.

As you walk home side-by-side, Han Seungwoo makes a mental note to thank Ms. Carmen for forcing him to get tutored with as many Spanish words as possible. Because while he can't ask for directions just yet, it seems he's found his way to his heart; and it's all your Spanish teacher's fault.

Although once he gives you a goodbye kiss at your doorstep, he admits that maybe it isn't entirely Ms. Carmen's fault- it was yours for being so irresistible.

He wondered to himself, after you'd walked inside and closed the door, just how long it would take him to learn how to say "I love you" in Spanish.

❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾❁✿❀✾

the end.

- 

GLOSSARY:

-muy excelente = very good

- eres demasiado linda para tu propio bien = you’re too cute for your own good

- haces que sea difícil concentrarte, cariña = you make it hard to focus, darling

-si = yes

-feliz = happy

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter IV

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

A new chapter! I tried my best to develop further the self insert character and clarify more its backstory and clan! I have somethings planned I hope you’ll enjoy. Thank you so much for all you support and I thank you for reading!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter V  soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 307

TW: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything in life has a continuation. Kurapika and (Y/n)'s relationship is also subject to this law. An undeniable detail was that the lives of both subjects were terribly busy and loaded. Notably, the activities that Kurapika was involved in were lightened. (Y/n) held their word to assist him in his cause, as their work turned out to be advantageous. Primarily when it came to retrieving scarlet eyes. Kurapika even recovered two more pairs not long after by the dint of their research.

Another point in common was that the two were- Or at least when they wanted- very organized. The majority of encounters took place after they departed their jobs with the Nostrade. Consisting most frequently in small walks in nearby parks, have coffee or read together. Accommodating conversations that permitted them to know each other.

"What is the reason behind your decision to study psychiatry?" It occurred to Kurapika to bid during a walk. The situation was atypical; people with profitable prior careers didn't take the Hunter exam, not to mention how extremely young (Y/n) was, being just a year younger than him. But knowing the introversion of his partner, he decided to go little by little.

"My grandad was one. I aspired to be similar to him.

He had a treasury full of medicine and psychiatry titles I loved to read, I also sneaked into his conversations on the subject!" -(Y/n) gloated, with a tiny rocking and a smile.-"I find the functioning of the brain stimulating! And I like to help, it makes me feel useful. One of his acquaintances invited me to be his apprentice several times ago. I just accepted." 

It was not rare for them to get together in the same room for each to work on their matters. They spent time in each other's presence. It was what mattered to them. 

~

In the beginning, (Y / n) was the one that expressed questions the most. Especially details that many would judge insignificant.-"What is your preferred flavor of ice cream?" "Your favorite color? Mine is (Fav .color)" What musical genre do you prefer? I like (Fav. genre), I'm particularly a David Bowie fan." The answers to those questions were vanilla, light gray, and jazz. (Y/n) liked to accumulate all the possible details about Kurapika. More than once he was surprised that the (hair/colored) remembered, like what candy he preferred from the local store, that he liked his water slightly cooler than room-temperature or they reminded him to take a break from using his contact lenses. (Y/n) was also very vocal, consciously or not, with what they liked about Kurapika. They made him blush more than once with "you look pretty today", "you are kind, thank you" or "I love your eyes, they are blue dog's eyes". He had no clue what the latter meant or where were their origins, but (Y/n) said it so lovingly that he couldn't help feeling like it was the greatest of compliments.

Kurapika relied most on studying (Y/n) body language to approach them. He soon realized that while their face was not very expressive, the rest of their body tended to be. When they were waiting for something that excited them, they tapped the table with their long nails. They used to hold the door for the person behind them and him. And the two things that Kurapika found the most adorable of all, they tilted their head when they thought of something and flapped their hands when they were excited-even if they tried to suppress it on occasions. Something that Kurapika was not anticipating at all, particularly considering its dexterity and exactness from the time they fought, was (Y/n) clumsiness. They took bad or silly postures and never tied their shoes- Kurapika suspected them to not know how-.

He loved to tease (Y/n) with it. Expressly when they caught a light pole in the road, for not paying attention while they talked.

(Y/n) reminded him so much of Pairo, shy, a tad playful, and caring.

Pairo...

He would have liked to meet Yorknew. Observe everything Kurapika had seen. He sure would have liked the cinnamon rolls and the city lights. It was cruel and wicked. 

"Kurapika"- a quiet voice took him away from his thoughts. His head stung.

"Here's your tea, sunshine"-(Y/n) placed a cup full of steaming cinnamon tea in front of him, and proceeded to sit down.-"Are you fine?"

"Yes, I was just... just thinking."- Kurapika mumbled and looked at his cup.

 "I see. It is not wrong to miss someone. It simply signifies you love them, and they're important to you."-They mumbled, also looking down at the tea, as if they were capable of reading his mind. They certainly didn't read minds. Just missed someone too.-"If we don't remember them no one else will."- (Y/n) muttered as if the statement was also for them. They wanted nothing more than to comfort him. In one effort they dubiously lifted their hand and started to gently rub his back.

Kurapika turned to see them.-"You call me sunshine now?" He wanted to tease them. It didn't work.

(Y/n) nooned with pride.-"Because of your hair, the color evokes a ray of sunshine. Without sunlight, the flowers do not grow, therefore it is important. You are valuable to me."-Completely overlooking the other man's intentions. Kurapika covered his face with his hands and started laughing. He felt better.

"You are sickly sweet!"- he exclaimed, shaking his head. 

"I am. And you're sneakier than you seem." (Y/n) similarly joked. They rested their heads on the hand, drinking tea. They maybe were sappy, but in the end, Kurapika loved it. He had someone to comfort him and with whom he could play. How he had missed this!

"Your piano is nearly the only furniture you have in your living room, and I haven't seen you play it yet."-continued taking a sip of his tea. He didn't know if (Y/n) played the piano, but they certainly prepared good tea.

"I am not very skilled. I am incapable of composing anything, and I haven't played for a long time. I was taught how to play some melodies, and that's what I play."

"May I see?"-Kurapika requested, for (Y/n) to approach the grand piano. They opened the tone's cover and he started to play. Sol-Fa Re Si-Fa Re Si ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f81rM4BKODw ). It sounded like a child's song, sweet and simple.

"My grandad was better. Verily, the instruments make me nostalgic, I have them essentially for that." They babbled once finished.

"You're not awful either." The blonde assured-"Did he teach you?" 

(Y/n) agreed with a smile. "We fancied dancing and singing. My people liked artistic activities, we were somewhat hippies." they joked with a melancholic undertone.

"And the Kurta?"-their interests were genuine

Kurapika was surprised, it was the first time anyone had asked him. He couldn't help but respond excitedly.- "Well, I traveled with a friend, his name was Pairo. We transported ourselves on the backs of huge birds called Pikos! It was really fun... did you had something similar to travel?"

(Y/n) stared at him for a moment, tilting their head "We were the animals...", to them, the answer was a bit obvious. Why would they mount animals for transportation if they could transform themselves into animals?

"That seems lawful... I quite omitted that detail." Kurapika notified. I forgot that people like (Y/n) were part beast. They hardly ever mentioned him and he hadn't seen them in their other form either.

(Y/n) Laughed-"And we used normal cars. Uniliums didn't live very detached from humans. Our community was like 40 away from the city and most adults worked in it. We just maintained our animal figure in private. Most humans didn't have a clue they were fraternizing with us." They were delighted to talk about their peers. Like when you talk about a family member you haven't seen in a long time.

"What kind of animals were they?"-.Kurapika's curiosity about the group only increased. Besides if he knew more about them he would also know more about his (Y/n).

They hummed, -"Well... we were all mammals. Most were preys, for each predator, there was an average of 13 preys. Of 126 members, we were 10. There were mice, rabbits, deers. But no one was sure how to determine which animal would be an offspring."- They cheerfully explained, general information. But nothing about themselves. 

Kurapika would have to question directly.-"And you?"

"I am the cat. But I was raised by wolves, like Romulus and Remus. Who knows? I might establish my own empire!"-(Y/n) played.

It was the first time they mentioned it. But now that he reflected, (Y/n) resembled a cat. They had particularly long fangs and claws.

"I didn't know your parents were wolves!" Kurapika felt he was finally learning a little more about his lover's past. But the reaction received was not the one he expected. An ordinary person, he included, would be glad to remember his parents.

(Y/n) quitted smiling and leaned their head into their folded arms. The atmosphere in the room had changed.-"They are average humans. As we mix with humans, it was not uncommon for some to marry them. My grandfather's mother and my grandfather, who were Uniliums, married humans. My mother was human and married another human."- they mumbled. Kurapika felt that the topic was not very pleasant for them, and considered it appropriate to stop that conversation.

"I comprehend..."-and changed the topic-"Kurtas were further separated. It was difficult to get outward of our village. This to guard us. Controlling the scarlet eyes and our emotions was not easy. Many panicked when they saw them."

(Y/n) seemed to quickly forget the preceding topic and willingly listened to their beloved again.-"I understand that. Some humans were also afraid of us, they believed we were demons or beasts. The funny thing is that the deluded wouldn't recognize us."-they mocked-"Sentiments could also influence our appearance. But our parents taught us to be cautious since cubs." 

(Y/n) had seen Kurapika with his scarlet eyes, but he hadn't seen them in their beast form. The most he had seen was that night when they saw him straight in the eye, and their pupils were contracted, like a cat's, and the (e/c) had almost fully spread.

"You have never revealed your cat form to me. I bet you're adorable!"- He expressed in an attempt to satiate his curiosity. 

They sure weren't anticipating that request, following a moment of hesitation, they lilted "I presume I get accustomed to wearing this shape."

Kurapika wanted (Y/n) to have confidence in him. He understood the concern in showing foreigners such aspects. After all, they had both been marginalized and punished for their looks.-"It's not going to be unpleasant to me. I like cats." he offered them a sweet smile. 

At the moment he blinked and reopened his eyes, (Y/n) had a pair of fuzzy (color) cat ears, the right one with a tiny darker spot on the tip, a fluffy tail, and their hair was slightingly fuzzed up. Maybe the most remarkable thing was their feet, long and standing on the tip.

 Their eyes changed again, and their hands were slightly larger with wider claws; to ultimately have the appearance of a cat-humanoid. They didn't look so different and they were still (Y/n). 

Kurapika didn't see anything devilish about the person in front of him. Rather, he saw an exotic beauty, like fantastic creatures from magical books. He felt lucky to be able to witness something of that bearing and have that experience. What was so special to him was that this being was his partner.

"You certainly are a kitten. That's something you can do in that form?"-Kurapika interrogated.

(Y/n) took a minute to consider, head tilted as usual- the only difference is that their ears moved delicately-. They raised their open hands, showing some very pink set to digital pads, advanced towards him wagging his tail, and cupping his face with a cute smile.

"Your hands are very soft, darling."-Kurapika giggled at the silly idea. (Y/n)'s grin grew wider, closed its eyes, and in complete pride said "I have paws, honey!" That was true. Not many could say they had paws. Especially a so soft and warm pair. (Y/n) appeared happy and relieved, as if they had been discharged from a weight or they were finally doing something they had repressed.

"And you also have marshmallow cheeks. Can you do something particular under that form?"-As Kurapika enjoyed the softness of the caring touch, his question was not precisely answered.

(Y/n) separated their paws from his face, and showed its claws. "I have retractile claws, like, well, a cat. Under this form my strength and speed increase. My bite force equals that of a Jaguar. Ultimately I'm capable of using a more potent nen's technique since my aura flow grows. Although, you know I'm a pacifist. I tend to be softer..."

"You look like a big plush doll. Yet, this appearance may be tricky. You absolutely are a cat."- Kurapika could recognize why (Y/n)'s clan was killed to extermination. Many collectors would be filled with sick and devious pride to have such a creature. He was happy that at least (Y/n) survived. For the first time, he was happy that he too survived.

[terramythos]

TerraMythos' 2020 Reading Challenge - Book 30 of 26

Title: The Cloud Roads (2011) (The Books of the Raksura #1)

Author: Martha Wells

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction (ish), Adventure, LGBT Protagonist, Third-Person

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 10/20/2020

Date Finished: 10/28/2020

Moon has spent most of his life as an outsider, wandering from place to place. An orphan with little clue to his origins or past, he has the ability to transform into a large, winged creature. Due to an unfortunate visual similarity to the Fell, a destructive race of marauding shapeshifters, he has to keep his identity hidden. When his current home discovers his secret, the residents assume the worst, poison him, and leave him to die.

By luck, Moon is rescued by a huge shapeshifter named Stone. According to Stone, they're both members of a species known as the Raksura, and a nearby group is in the midst of a dire crisis. Desperate to know more about his past, Moon agrees to help. He follows Stone to Indigo Cloud, a dwindling court of Raksura under threat from the Fell. While the Raksura initially distrust Moon, and Moon has difficulty adjusting to their way of life, they soon discover they need each other to survive. Moon must come to terms with his place among his newfound people and help them overcome an insidious and overwhelming enemy.  

He spoke the thought that had become increasingly obvious all day long, with every interaction he had had. “I don’t belong here.” Maybe if he had been younger, there would have been a chance, but not now. 

Stone made a derisive noise. “You’re afraid you don’t belong here. There’s a difference.” 

Moon seethed inwardly but held his temper, knowing it would give Stone a victory if he lost it. “I’ve been walking into new places all my life. I know when I don’t belong.” 

Stone sounded wry. “You’ve been here half a day, and for most of that you were asleep.” 

Moon said sourly, “I like to make quick decisions.” 

Minor spoilers and content warning(s) under the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Lots of graphic violence, action, and death. Non-graphic sexual content. Mind control/manipulation is a whole thing. R*pe is plot relevant and mentioned several times, but not depicted.  

I read Martha Wells’ The Murderbot Diaries series earlier this year and enjoyed the hell out of it (reviews here and here). Featuring fantastic writing and the most well-written perspective character I’ve ever read, I cannot recommend that series enough. So I was interested in reading other stuff by Wells, and ultimately settled on this series. Murderbot is a tough act to follow, and The Cloud Roads is MUCH different in tone/genre, but I still thoroughly enjoyed this book and look forward to more. 

To me, the worldbuilding is the strongest aspect of The Cloud Roads. The Three Worlds is an interesting and creative setting. Humans are completely absent-- instead, there are dozens of different sapient humanoid races. While there are some cultural analogues to our world, everything feels distinctly alien and science fiction-y. I find it interesting that there don't seem to be countries or empires as such, though I get the sense it’s intentional. The Raksura, a main focus of the novel, are based on insect colonies like bees or ants, but with social complexity more like a wolf pack. 

Moon is a good choice of protagonist for this novel due to his general ignorance of the world around him, so we get a firsthand view of someone learning about it. Furthermore, I think Wells does a great job in heavy worldbuilding without it feeling overbearing. When information is doled out, it's always because it's relevant to the situation at hand, so the learning progression feels very natural. By the end I got the sense of a vast and complex world that we'd barely scratched the surface of-- which is a good thing.  

The Raksuran culture is fascinating. Personally I find insect colonies super interesting so I love to see a fantasy race borrow some elements of that. Without going into a whole essay, the matriarchal Raksura have a biological caste system and a ruling queen responsible for a lot of the reproduction. They're separated into two main groups-- winged and not. Within those two categories are various social roles one performs for the colony. All Raksura are able to shapeshift between a smaller almost-human form and a larger, more animalistic one. Despite the insectoid inspiration, the Raksura seem to be a hybrid of mammals and reptiles. They’re... sort of dragons? Gargoyles? Dinosaurs? There’s no perfect analogy. One thing I particularly admire about the writing is how Wells manages to make the Raksura human enough to be relatable, but with pronounced animal-like behavior to make the distinction obvious. Maybe I’m a bit of a furry, too. Sue me. 

I also enjoyed reading a story where the main characters can fly. I haven't read many books like that; I just think it's neat! It adds an extra element to travel sequences, or even how the characters view and observe the world around them. Journeys in fantasy can be boring to read, but this element keeps it interesting. 

The Cloud Roads’ plot isn’t mindblowing, but I think it serves the purpose of the novel well. It’s a pretty standard stock story-- orphan/loner must set out to reclaim his heritage and a new place in society. I think this plot works here because the worldbuilding is so complex, it would be difficult to also balance a complicated story. What keeps it interesting is that Moon struggles to adapt to Raksuran society; it’s his whole character arc. He is inherently mistrustful of the others and in many cases the feeling is mutual. The Raksura initially see Moon as a means to an end; something he is acutely aware of, and Moon keeps himself deliberately detached. The emotional thrust of the story lies in certain characters genuinely wanting him to stay on his own merits, and Moon realizing he actually wants to as well. 

One thing I hope to see more of in future installments is good ol’ character development. Moon is well-realized in this novel; he’s emotionally repressed, but starts to get over it and find a place to belong over the course of the story. We also gradually learn about his past, which adds more depth and context to his behavior. But I want more from the supporting cast. Jade, Chime, Pearl, and Stone get some development but I found myself wanting to know more about them outside of the main plot and their direct relationship to Moon. All the books are written and published by now so I guess I'll see for myself. One pattern I do like with the side characters is how several are set up to be obvious antagonists, but turn out to not be so bad, or are otherwise open to changing their ways. I like how Moon’s limited perspective influences perceptions of certain characters. Also: loving Moon's Peak Bisexual Energy. I tagged him as an LGBT Protagonist since he's clearly bisexual, though it isn't a big focus in the story. Casual rep is still nice to see. 

My main challenge is the Fell, which are basically an Always Chaotic Evil race of shapeshifters similar to the Raksura, and serve as the novel’s antagonists. I personally don’t find them that compelling. They sort of remind me of Reapers from the Mass Effect series, but thus far lacking the grand ulterior motive. They just come off as pure evil without much nuance. I also have to wonder how the species has survived this far if their main method of survival is targeting entire cities and eating the inhabitants (and each other?). I’m not sure where that whole thing is going. Maybe insight in future novels will help me on this. 

I’ll be honest, while I personally enjoyed The Cloud Roads, it is pretty unusual and I don’t think it’s for everyone. If anything, I recommend reading The Murderbot Diaries before this series, but both are well-written and creative. I’m planning to read book 2, The Serpent Sea, after this one, so look forward to that! 

[youarejesting]

NCT127 Incarceration: 1

[MASTERLIST]

Pairing: Unknown (this is a NCT127 fic though it mentions all the members they will not be the focus unfortunately as I cannot keep up trying to write such a big group.)

Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Mystery, Drama, Romance, Action, Adventure, Brains, Sex and more. HONESTLY ALL THE GOOD STUFF.

Summary:  The worlds craftiest criminals held in the most expensive and elaborate prison. Landing yourself among the best of the best, you find that personally prison life isn’t for you. In a room full of criminals who can you trust?

Announcement: My first ever NCT fic please show it some love, just double tap the screen if you find you like it while reading.

It was a prison for the best of the best, the most dangerous and the craftiest. And you had a one-way ticket, you were proud of what you did and you wouldn’t change a thing. 

Blindfolded and driven to the facility you would stay, you noted every turn and counted for estimated travel time and direction. 

You could hear the radio playing, talking about a new development in the town. “So apparently they are building a new estate on the south-east of the prison that would mean that we have surrounded the entire prison making it the safest prison in the world as all the workers of the prison live in each one of those little houses”

“There was some debate when they started building so close that the worker’s families were in danger but now the economy is booming people have a good stable home and the amount of security makes this the safest place in the world”

“Next year they are planning to make a school so children don’t have to travel outside the town for their education. Set on the patch of land off directly south of the prison,”  They took you from the vehicle and wheeled inside.

“Look at your new home” they whipped your blindfold, and you looked around finding out potential escapes and security level. You smiled at the surrounding area. This would be easy for you were good at what you do. 

Your father had taught you well, how to hide in plain sight and it was a harmless trick as a child but had landed you in the most expensive prison in the world. Which by the entranceway was a sign-in desk for the guards, handing over your paperwork as required. They signed you in with the prison name at the top of the page. 

‘The South Korean penitentiary for dangerous and ingenious criminals’

“Why is her blindfold off?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t see much” you said with an innocent smile. They took you to your cell, the man telling you everything. “So who is the warden?” 

“What makes you think it’s not me?” He said you shrugged knowing full well that they had people from many backgrounds believing they were in their own country but you had read the paperwork. Standing still as they detached you from the carrier they had strapped you to. Your hand dipped into his pocket taking his pen slipping it down your long sleeve. They left shutting the door to the cell behind them, leaving you alone for a short while. Inspecting the place you noticed there were no camera’s in the room but you had noticed some outside in the halls. 

They buzzed the doors, each swinging open, and you walked to the door as directed over the PA system and you all walked single file out to dinner. The whole prison was unisex even your cell block was mixed. You followed seeing a few groups chatting taking a bunch of napkins while you were waiting and began writing some things you didn’t want to forget like what you had seen so far of the floor layout.

“Hey you plotting your big break,” a young man asked he was all smiles, I am Mark, you speak English right they said the new inmate was English, that’s you right?”

“I wouldn’t bother trying, you can’t escape here. Just ask Yuta he has been here the longest out of all of us. He almost escaped once, but he never speaks about what he saw?” Another spoke, “My name is Johnny, and this guy is Mark, over there you got; Kun, Winwin, Ten, Lucas, Hendery, Xiaojun, Yangyang, Renjun and Chenle. They all hang out and keep things pretty hush. They speak Chinese mostly.”

“The table beside them has Taeyong Taeil, Doyoung, Jaehyung, Jungwoo, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin and the youngest of all of us here Jisung,” Said boy lifted his head and waved mark grinned waving back happily

“Yuta sits alone at that table there and refuses to speak to anyone in any other language than Japanese because of… he… well, I don’t know why,” Mark shrugged sliding down the bench until he was across from you. “That’s everyone in NCT. That is our unit, it stands for Non-Conventional Threat. It means we are not your typical criminals we are the masterminds the best of the best. Next door is the H.O.T unit High-risk Offender Threat. There are only a few in that group and I am sure they have killed people before they have been here for a long time and they have chaperones. There is the After School unit, they are in the south wing they are boys and girls who are going through their schooling from grades one to master degrees. I am Mark as you already know, what is your name?”

“Y/n” you said standing with your tray and walking over to the end table where Yuta sat alone, 

“You always talk too much” Johnny laugh at his friend’s embarrassment.

Sitting across from Yuta he murmured in Japanese “Please leave me alone.”

“No, I think we should trade, I will tell you what I know if you tell me what you know”

“What could you know?”

“We are in the South Korean penitentiary for dangerous and ingenious criminals. The town that surrounds the prison is filled entirely for people who work at this prison so if you escape they can easily find you, except they are building new estate south-east of the prison which means empty homes that someone could hide in. Directly South of the prison behind the town there is a small area they plan to bulldoze next year to make room for their new school”

“How do you know all this?” He eyed you

“I am a genius just like you, and I got a plan, the problem is, it's kind of big and I will need some help you in?”

“Look I don’t want to be part of your scheme there is no escape so just deal with it you are stuck here, just like the rest of us”

You walked away and sat alone at a table observing the room getting the layout, there was a kitchen and by the sound of it there were no doors that lead in or out of the kitchen other than the one connected to the dining hall which meant the kitchen was a dead end. Good to know. Yet there was no visible door’s in the dining hall and the dining hall lead straight to their cells and other than the cells there was no doorway. 

Each cell had a shower sink and toilet unit that came out of the wall and hid back away. So the doors must be the same invisible to the naked eye. With as much skill as you could without making it obvious, you walked over to the Chinese group you spoke a little mandarin. You smiled at them.

“Hello, my name is y/n.” They seemed surprised, and you moved around the table as they all greeted you and you saw the disguised card reader that you could only tell was different to the rest of the wall by the slightly aged and dirty patch on the wall. Just like how light switches collect marks over time from use, this was the same “ah the door is here”

“What?”

“The door into the dining room is here, how else do the workers get inside. You can tell because of the dirty mark from use they rubbed their key cards on the wall” You said in English more to yourself. You didn’t expect Hendery to figure out what you meant let alone recite it to the others. “Don’t make it obvious” you scolded, their heads all snapped to Hendery as he reigned them in.

You wanted to investigate more but your nose started bleeding your head feeling tight from overthinking. Staggering forward you sat down beside Mark who shrieked at the sight and went to get you some napkins.

[thisolddag]

Our Family Unplugged For 24 Hours. Here’s What Happened.

Back in September, our thirteen-year-old son finally got his own room. We converted the playroom by dragging in his bed and desk from the room he used to share with his little brother. The new “bedroom” still has bins of Legos and Thomas trains and action figures hidden in drawers, and it’s still painted a cheery bright teal, and he let me keep yesteryear scribbly artwork up, and it doesn’t quite fit his current cool, detached teenager image - but it’s got a TV and it is His Own Personal Space. 

From which he hardly ever retreats.

This is the first thing. The fact that we have for all intents and purposes, momentarily “lost” contact with him. It’s normal, I know this - normal to want to burrow away and figure things out in solace, normal for someone who is 13 and looks 16 and is wracked with evolving feelings and changing body. I get it.

But this new room, and this new kid (who is now taller than me) got me missing things. Missing how things used to be before we walked around with devices in our hands. Because the truth is we are - all four us in this house - burrowed away in our own Personal Spaces. Eyes down, time wasted, hours spent scrolling, clicking, forwarding, deleting. Even the ten-year-old who doesn’t have a phone, has an iPad and access to a computer - and so while we still play board games, and eat dinner as a family, watch movies together sometimes - the cold, hard truth is that any leisure time to spare is time spent alone, in some corner, staring down at a screen.

So when I came across Tiffany Shlain’s new book “24/6: The Power of Unplugging One Day A Week” it was like a plea, a dare, and an answer all rolled into one. The next day, I called a family meeting. 

“We’re going to implement a Tech Shabbat. We are going to unplug for twenty-four hours. No iPhones, no iPads, no computers. ALL of us. We will have a landline, a list of phone numbers to call people if we want, and one TV to share, in the family room.”

The ten year old was excited.

The thirteen year old cried.

He shed actual tears, and his reaction - fear, confusion, desperation, fury - further cemented my decision. 

Yesterday was our first unplugged Sunday.

And here are my take-aways.

THINGS THAT WERE SURPRISING

1. Teenagers are resistant and reluctant to use phones for anything other than texting. I had to implore my 13 yr old to pick up the house phone and call his friends (they were supposed to meet up for Superbowl hangout that evening.) “Nobody calls anybody! Nobody leaves voice messages. Nobody checks voicemail!” “They won’t know this number. They won’t pick up.” He was correct on all accounts. I had to call parents and inform them that it was, in fact, our son calling from a landline, that this was no prank. The kids who ended up calling back didn't know to how to greet me. They stammered and hemmed and hawed. The idea that reaching out to a friend did not guarantee a direct connection with said friend, was foreign and stupid and strange. This all blew my mind.

2. The day felt incredibly long and languid. It unfolded slowly. When we get on a device, time is sucked up so quickly. I liken it to being in a casino. Minutes fly by, the whole concept of time is warped, thwarted, eradicated. Many times a day, I take my phone out of my pocket and there I am - Instagram, Facebook, Flipboard, Twitter, Matchington Mansion - and when I slip it back into my pocket, I’m unaware of how much time has passed. An hour? Twenty minutes? I don't register it, and yet, it’s gone in a flash.

3. I didn’t miss the things I thought I would. I didn’t miss social media, I didn't miss news notifications popping up, I didn't even miss the Marco Polos I love exchanging with a group of close friends. I didn’t miss getting emails. I didn’t miss looking around for my phone or “alone time.” I still had my alone time except it was quieter - an aloneness with my thoughts, observing things instead of being distracted by them. I didn’t miss being available and connected to an outside world. When I started wondering about how someone was doing, I picked up the house phone and gave them a ring. I left a message and hoped they’d call back. It felt freeing. It felt authentic. My husband felt the same. However, our oldest son’s biggest worry was missing out. He still got dropped off at his friend’s house for the SuperBowl party (the only kid there without a phone, I'm sure) and he still had loads of fun. In fact, when I called the kid’s house later that night to check up on him, he sounded energetic and happy and even ended the conversation with “I love you, mom.” But later he mentioned experiencing anxiety - feeling like he was missing out on “something important” by not having access to his phone. To him, having his phone nearby means having his friends nearby. Without it, he feels lost, unmoored. That admission made me think about how hard it is for our kids, who have grown up used to being “connected” all the time.

4. Landlines are FUN. My friends called a few times, and I would slightly thrill at the sound of a phone ringing throughout the house, and I’d run downstairs to pick up the receiver in time, smiling. As we talked, one friend commented how it felt like we were sixteen, hanging off our beds, twirling our hair, talking about our crushes. 

5. My husband and I worked on a crossword puzzle over coffee and breakfast. I also finished a jigsaw puzzle in one afternoon, which I’d been working on for weeks. I read a lot. My boys lay together on the couch and agreed on what to watch on the one TV we could use. They hung out more than they had in a long, long time. We all felt relaxed. I ended up watching the Superbowl because by 9pm, I was too tired to start another jigsaw puzzle, too tired to read, so what else was there to do? I laid on the couch and learned about fumbles, and touchdowns, and cheered for the Chiefs and I kind of got into it. Who the fuck would have thunk. 

THINGS THAT WERE ANNOYING

1. I couldn’t take pictures. That sucked. 

2. Traveling was unsettling. When the boys went to SkyZone, I didn't like not being able to get in touch with them. Granted, my sister and her husband and kid were there too, and I called her, but still. I thought about car accidents or something random and awful happening while they were out, and I worried about when they’d get home. That kinda sucked too. It felt like an old yet unfamiliar sensation - not knowing what was going on at every single moment. 

3. We couldn't order anything online. We couldn't use GrubHub or DoorDash, or GoogleMaps. We couldn’t just like check the weather with a swipe of one finger. Not having the everyday convenience of being online was a bit of a bother, but we survived. It made me realize that we have gotten lazy about daily tasks, and that part of our brain has BECOME our iPhone. 

4. I snacked a lot. Without my calorie counting and fitness apps to log my food intake, I suddenly found myself snacking on junk. I did work out, but eating that day became a sort of time filler, and the feeling reminded me of quitting cigarettes and turning to food. That was unforeseen, and I did not like it.

THINGS THAT WERE PROFOUND

1. All day, we felt like we were together in the same space. We retreated less often. We felt serene, light on our feet. We settled into feeling bored, or lazy, or inspired. We gave each other more attention but somehow felt less encumbered upon. It was really, really lovely and soothing. Putting away our devices felt like going on vacation. When we went to bed, I felt closer to my husband. I felt like we had truly shared the day. And both us were not exactly looking forward to Monday, because it felt like going back to the grind. Already there was a bubble of anxiety in our chests, a feeling of weight on our shoulders. Also, I had 127 emails waiting for me this morning and not a one of them was something that desperately should have been answered yesterday. So there was that realization too. The world won’t fall apart if you check out for one day.

2. Twenty-fours can change you. It is a small amount of time, yet our 24 hours unplugged felt so incredibly substantial and so behavior-altering that it made me pause and realize just how addicted we have become to always being connected to the outside world via technology. It’s fucking bizarre, if you think about it. 

3. Unplugging and reaping the benefits will only work when the adults in the house do it too. We already have a Device Free day and have had it for years, but it only applied to the kids. It has never felt as pure, and as important and GOOD, as yesterday, when the rules applied to all of us. Taking electronic away from the kids, while being allowed ourselves because “we didn't grow up with this, so we’re not addicted to it” - is like telling someone to go on a diet and eating cake in front of them all day, because well, you personally don't have an issue with weight. Suddenly, it became clear: to be together, we have to do this together.

Moral of the story: this was a pretty amazing experience, as trivial as it seemed to some. If you are feeling burdened, stressed out, fractured, cranky with your kids, your partner - I highly recommend investing in a landline, writing down phone numbers, picking a weekend day, and trying it out. It will feel new and beautiful, and reassuring somehow. Because while there were moments when obviously we went our own ways, did our own thing, we still felt as one. There were no walls, no apps, no texts getting in the way of figuring out and enjoying the day. We were fully present with each other, with ourselves - aware of time but not panicked or confined by it. 

In her book, Tiffany Shlain writes that her family has been unplugging one day a week for ten years now. I don’t know how long we’ll last, but all I know is this - we can’t wait for next Sunday.

[petersmparker]

I Kind Of Think We’re Dating (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: This isn’t how people normally start dating, probably, but even so… this is pretty damn good.

Word Count: 1953

A/N: does this make sense?? maybe not. do I care?? no!! I had fun!! enjoy my nonsense. this was almost entirely caused by the general Tone of those nights by bastille. not the lyrics, just the Feel

The couch is comfortably snug this friday night, like every other designated movie night, and wedged onto a too-small couch Peter and his friends are quite as content as they’re capable of being. That is, as content as one can be while you’re as teary-eyed as you’ve ever been. Nothing is really wrong, of course- simply the side effect of a sad movie and a habit of getting a super emotional. It’s a little silly, Ned teasingly points out as he pushes up from the couch to get a fresh bowl of popcorn, but you’re a loud crier and already laughing at yourself to boot, so you barely hear.

It’s endearing, Peter thinks. The way that you can express yourself so easily over something as inconsequential as a movie. He’s chuckling too, knowing full well that you’ll calm soon enough. Despite this, he throws his arm around you and pulls you closer against him. You melt into his comfort easily and turn to cry into his shoulder, still giggling at yourself.

It’s without really thinking that you raise your hand to cup his jaw as you wait for your tears to run dry. It doesn’t take too long, Peter rubbing your back, still laughing slightly,  and the sound from the next room of Ned humming while the popcorn pops. The microwave beeps, the door opens and closes, and the popping sound resumes as the next bag starts. With a shaky inhale and a last breathy laugh, you raise your head to make a joking comment about how you’re acting a bit ridiculous.

The words can’t seem to leave your mouth. Peter is very close. His arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, thigh pressed against yours, skin warm under the hand still holding his face. He’s looking at you with an odd expression of endeared concern. Your vision blurs. You realize, rather nervously, that it’s because he’s leaning in. You meet him in the last few centimeters.

Despite the very prevalent fact that this is Peter’s first kiss with you- his first kiss ever- his fear is much overcome by comfort. This is new and scary, but you aren’t. He knows all too well that you are one of the most solid assurances of his life, next to Aunt May and Ned (the way Mr. Stark was, before) and with that knowledge it feels strangely as if this is not all that unusual.

He’s not sure what’s come over him when he initiates this, but the fluttering in his stomach suggests that it’s good.

The microwave beeps, cutting through whatever bubble you’ve fallen into in Ned’s absence, and you break apart. Face warm, you train your expression into something calm. You are undoubtedly consumed with nerves and yet… Peter looks back at you so free of distress. He seems so accepting of what had just occurred and of course, he had been in the first to lean in. His assured demeanor seeps into you.

Everything is okay. It’s better.

By the time Ned re-enters and throws himself down on the couch beside you, you’re turned away from each other as if it hadn’t occurred. Peter’s arm stays resting across your shoulders, barely sacrificing the distance that was gained over the past few seconds. Ned hands the gigantic bowl of popcorn over to you to hold and presses play on the remote.The movie finishes without any tears, the next rounding off the night with a much lighter plot, and it all concludes with chatting and laughter.

Despite the fact that Ned excuses himself from the Parker residence thirty minutes before you do, the kiss goes undiscussed.

Peter does, however, walk you across the hall to your apartment instead of waving from the doorway, leaving you to wonder if those extra few steps had anything to do with what had happened. You shut your door. Peter’s shuts after a few moments.

It’s several long minutes before either of you leave the entryways.

-

The kiss in Peter’s living room is the first to happen without preamble or explanation, but it is not the last. It happens several times in the following weeks without much influence on the rest of your world. They’re sun showers that weren’t forecasted. It becomes almost normal. A series of private moments. Not exactly secret, never truly hid from the people around you, just not a public announcement. Neither of you are sure that there is something to announce. Despite the lack of clarity, you find yourselves inexplicably content as is for now. Content to enjoy the moments as they come. Never quite expecting the next rainfall, but delighted to go outside to bask in it.

The first time that it happens in public, you’re beneath a tree in the school’s quad. You’re with the usual group, but not quite– several feet away and slightly detached from the rowdy conversation. Peter is leaning against the trunk of the tall birch, a heavy textbook in his lap and his lunch to the side, for the most part uneaten. You are lying in the grass next to him in a spot of sun that breaks through the leaves. Speaking lightly about your disastrous attempts to find a prom dress with MJ, your hands gesture into the air above you.

“She’s so stylish in this cool edgy way and she dresses herself so well, but when it comes to other people it’s like she’s blind,” you laugh, before gesturing vaguely down your body, “The most observant person we know and yet she didn’t notice that the dress with the tulle skirt was see through. About ninety percent crotch, just out there on display to the general public.”

Peter laughs, turning the page of his book. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” he offers, kindly.

“Of course you would say so,” You say, propping yourself up on your elbows to shoot a glance at him, “You haven’t got a single impolite bone in your body.”

“I try.”

“Bless you.”

A laugh bubbles out of you once more as you’re smiling up at Peter, and his chest lightens at the sight. It’s without much consideration that he moves aside his textbook in order to lean over and kiss you.  It’s quick, barely more than a peck. When he pulls back, you appear as calm as ever. The smile left over from a moment before softens. Affection colors your features. Peter, feeling quite contented, reorients himself and pulls his textbook back into his lap.

Once you have fallen back down to the grass, continuing on as if you hadn’t just been kissed by him a few feet from almost every person you know, Peter risks a glance at the crowd. Only one person appears to have noticed. MJ, looking quite like she knows everything and also somehow more, gives Peter a smiling nod, and directs her attention back to their rowdy friends.

The world keeps turning, maybe a little more happily than before.

And though Peter clearly didn’t try to hide when he’d gone and kissed one of his best friends in full view of god and everyone, part of him, he decided, was somewhat grateful that you had maintained some privacy.

And it’s nice.

-

The next person to be made aware is Ned.

On wednesdays, you walk Peter and Ned to decathlon practice before embarking on your train ride home. Ned talks excitedly about the progress he’s made on the coding project due next week, pleased to be a couple days ahead of where he’d expected to be. The hallways are empty now that everyone has gone home or to clubs, and there is no one else around to witness the kiss.

Outside, it’s raining. The rain has been coming down in heavy sheets for most of the day, but now the clouds have opened up, leaving nothing more than a pleasant drizzle and a pretty grey sky. You point it out as you pass by the large window across from the door to the decathlon practice room.

“Looks like it’s almost cleared up for the day.”

Peter pulls his backpack off his shoulder to shuffle through it and is quick to pull a small red umbrella from the middle pocket. “Here, take this,” he offers, extending it out to you.

It’s a sweet gesture, but you decline. You actually kind of like the feeling of being rained on.

The attempt at helpfulness was appreciated anyway, though, and without much thought you reach up to grasp gently around the back of his neck. The kiss you pull him down into is casual, and yet somehow quite serious with the presence of your friend. When you release him his eyes are wider than they had been before. He’s still got the backpack and umbrella gripped in each hand, almost like he’s forgotten he was holding them.

“See you guys,” you say, trying for a smile, and turn to leave through the nearest door.

“Bye!” Ned calls after you, excitement in his voice.

Peter shakes himself back into the moment and packs away the umbrella. Ned is grinning like he’s been told a juicy secret, and Peter supposes that in some ways he kind of was.

And yet, after he’s gotten over the initial surprise, Peter recognizes that what had happened was so natural. So normal. His chest has never felt lighter.

“That’s new,” Ned says as the glass door clicks shut behind you at the other end of the hallway.

Peter swings his bag back over his shoulder. “Not exactly,” he admits, a smile alighting across his features, “Alright, time to go.”

Ned enters the room first, shooting Peter an exaggerated look of mostly-amused betrayal. Peter follows him in, laughing at Ned’s scandalized No fair!, and feels your affection on his skin for the rest of practice.

Things are great.

-

Midtown Tech’s academic decathlon team sails to a victory at the national competition in Washington two weeks later. You’re in the crowd, of course, having promised Peter that you wouldn’t miss it as long as he promised not to vanish at the last minute like last time. He hits the buzzer a fraction of a second before the other team can. His answer is right, because they always are.

The lobby is packed with teams and audience members, but Midtown is easy to spot in the crowd thanks to their lemon yellow jackets and the trophy that Flash is hoisting above their heads. You push through the crowd, spotting Peter at the front of the group, and rush forward to meet him.

“Peter!”

He looks over to gain sight of you as you appear between a pair of audience members. Delight of winning fills him to his ears, pride is emanating from you, and you’re running to him. His team is still surrounding him, but the fact that they’re there to witness you is meaningless. The distance closes between you. The world is more in focus that it has ever been.

Forethought isn’t even there. It doesn’t need to be. 

Peter catches your face between his hands and kisses you.

Your arms are thrown out for a hug you weren’t able to give. Peter’s nose bumps weirdly against yours for a moment before he can fit his lips into their proper place. The press of his lips is almost forceful, but only in his eagerness. When you bring your hands to rest gently on his sides, the pressure lightens, being replaced by the upturn of a smile that can’t help but appear.

Pulling back, he flashes you a bright smile.

“I kind of think we’re dating,” you say, almost an offer but mostly just a confirmation.

His laughter is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“We’d better go on a date then.”

Everything is perfect.

Tag list

@souvenirsvisuels

[mymy101010]

Dance With Me...

Changkyun and I had a weird relationship. We had been raised practically together, we were schoolmates and we even lived nearby. We fought every day because of our rebellion and vanity but one always ended up making the other laugh and that's why we didn't stay angry for more than one day. We were both interested in dancing at an early age and that's why we decided to form a hip hop dance group, on the dance floor we had incomparable compatibility. The strange thing was that we had never felt anything for each other in life, until tonight that I began to see it in a different way, I began to observe his whole body, his perfectly adjusted black hair, his pink lips, his body not muscular but well marked, his special way of walking making you believe that he was going to eat you and I even looked at his ass, it seemed a perfect apple ready to bite. At that moment I realized that something was wrong with me ...

FLASHBACK

-Changkyun I think this is not a good idea ...

-T / N, what are you talking about? We are a dance couple! Of course it's a good idea. Besides, we may learn something tonight.

-It's fine, but I don't want you to force me to do anything, ok?

-OK .. Now let's go.

Saying this he grabbed my hand leading me inside the Latin Dance Party. It was a nightclub that always had this kind of event but it never crossed my mind to come just tonight. We danced hip hop, totally different from salsa, lambada, merengue and that kind of Latin dance. He insisted so much that I had to access. Inside the club we noticed people dancing salsa, everyone apparently had a little knowledge about that type of dance. We went to the bar with Changkyun and bought a couple of drinks to get into the wave of the place.

-The truth, it looks pretty cool.- I said taking a sip of my drink

- See, I told you that you would like it. When you finish that - he pointed out my glass - we will go to the dance floor

-You know to dance salsa? - I asked him amused.

-I know how to dance, and that's enough for me - I laughed with his response.

He took his drink from a sip and I did the same. We held hands and took me to the dance floor as we used to do in all our presentations. What I saw it surprised me.

Changkyun tried to move his hips like never did before in such a funny way that there was a moment when I had to get out of the center and sit at the bar to get over the attack of laughter I had.

-Are you making fun of my spectacular way of dancing, T / N?

- Enough Changkyun - I said with no air in my lungs clutching my stomach - stop making me laugh like that!

- Ah, this girl... - he replied with pink cheeks while scratching the back of his neck - let's ask for another drink.

One, two, three, four and five more drinks. We already looked like a couple convulsing when trying to dance something we didn't know and with a lot of alcohol in their blood. At one point the music changed to bachata, one of the most sensual Latin dances of all, it is danced glued and with a lot of feeling. But ... it couldn't be uncomfortable, right? It was Changkyun and me. We tried to copy the steps of the other couples ... One two three, one two three, the truth that worked out quite well. We were getting more coordinated and we start to feel the music. At that moment our eyes met and he brought his mouth to my ear and said: "I would like to stay like this forever ..." I looked down ashame, and realized the way we were dancing; I had my hand on his back, he had his hand on the lower part of my back almost resting his fingers on my butt and my mouth brushed his neck.

-T / N ... Look at me - I slowly looked up - You're beautiful.

- Changkyun .. You're drunk .. Stop saying that kind of things....

- Maybe, but you know what they say about drunks ... They always tell the truth.

- So ... Can't you lie to me now?

- No ... - he said laughing. He was definitely drunk, dragging all the words when he spoke and laughed out of nowhere.

- Don't you want to go home? - I suggested, if I kept drinking I wouldn't be able to deal with him.

- I want to go to MY house WITH YOU.

- And why?

- I think I want to kiss you.

I automatically started laughing. We went to the club door to wait for a taxi, I could observe it carefully under the dim light of the street lamps, his black hair was already messy, his pink cheeks, the sweat made the shirt stick to his body, I had a pair of detached buttons showing something of his chest and moles that until now they we’re not seemed so dangerously attractive.

END OF FLASHBACK

- Why do you look at me so much? Do you want to kiss me too? - It caused me to approach with a smile.

- And if so ... What would you do?

He stared at my eyes and my mouth on a come and go that couldn't be more uncomfortable. Suddenly he looked away and put his hands in his pockets, leaving us in complete silence.

A taxi came to save us from discomfort and we made our way to ... His house? Mine? He indicated the address of his house to the driver. When we we’re near, I told him that I would send him a message saying when I get home, but he replied: "You go to my place, with me." He paid for the taxi and we entered his house, everything was dark and silent. When he closed the door he took me by the arm, curling me against the wall.

- T / N ... I can't take it anymore. I go crazy every time I touch you and I can't kiss you, every time another man looks at you ... I ... I'm crazy about you.

I was shocked, but then he brought his face close and rested his forehead on mine.

- I love you ... I love you forever T / N. I swear if something happens tonight, I will always try to make you the happiest woman ...

Our breaths collided and he kissed me quickly. He opened his eyes and we looked at each other for a couple of seconds and at that moment everything started to make more sense to me, I always had feelings for Changkyun, my relationships always failed because of my friendship with him and I didn't care, I always didn't care. He was the one that always mattered.

I directed my hands towards the lower part of his back hugging him slightly and he opened his eyes because of my contact, his hands landed on my neck and this time he kissed me hard, without a hint of shyness. His body began to rub against mine little by little, maybe it was alcohol or maybe he really felt something strong for him, but at that moment he just wanted to feel it, I started to undress him quickly and he lifted my dress firmly touching my legs and my butt causing an involuntary moan from me.

- Yes ... I want you to say my name all night.

Saying this he lifted me up until I laid my legs around his waist , he took me to his room and dropped me on his bed. While he looked at me, he took off his pants and underwear, completely naked. His excitement was enormous, and I was already wet just seeing the incredible man in front of me. I imitated it and got rid of my dress leaving a black set of underwear I was wearing.

- I know it's a bit late to ask, but ... Are you sure about this?

- I am, Changkyun.

- Then you should take off this - he pointed out my underwear.

He approached again, took off my bra and broke my panties in two, that only made me get even more wet. We joined again in an unbridled kiss, I leaned back and he landed on me stroking my entrance with his fingers. He introduced a finger, then two, then three ... It was driving me crazy with pleasure. He took his member and slowly put it inside me, gave me time to get used to his size, slowly began to fuck me carefully but firmly. Our mouths did not separate for a second, our tongues struggled tirelessly as we groaned as the speed increased. I couldn't believe this was happening ...

I could feel the light on my face. I slowly opened my eyes. I wasn't in my room, I had an arm around my waist, I didn't have any clothes on and so the person next to me hasn’t any clothes either. I looked around and realized that it was Changkyun's room, I turned slowly and found both dark brown eyes looking at me without blinking and I jumped and screamed.

- Woo! Do I look so ugly in the morning? - Changkyun told me with embarrassed tone and a little scared by my reaction.

Little by little I remembered everything that had happened, alcohol still made my head ache.

- Well .. You look pretty good.

He told me looking at my chest, I looked at myself and realized that my boobs where free.

- AAAAH! - I screamed as I covered myself with the sheets and rolled on the bed like a ball to try to alleviate the shame I felt.

- Hey hey hey hey .. Wait - Changkyun tried to calm me - You dind’t like what happened last night?

- Yes, but ...

- T / N, for me last night was special. I love you, I always did.

He approached me and hugged me giving me a kiss on the forehead and then on the lips. Everything felt so weird but it felt very good. I corresponded his kiss and hid in his chest. He didn't let go of me and kept repeating how much he loved me, I just smiled in shame. When he noticed that I was more calm, he lay on his back leaving me on top of him, we both started laughing.

- Now, I need breakfast ... And not exactly food.

I could feel under the sheets that I was ready to start the day, so we started it together ...

[mateotorrezjr]

permanent record → mary h.k. choi

i was lucky enough to receive an arc of this at yallwest, the thoughts expressed in the following discussion though are completely mine.

before we get into specifics, this was one of my most anticipated reads. if i’m being honest i’m still looking forward to september when i can get my hands on a finished copy of this. i also went into this book pretty blind. after finishing emergency contact earlier this year i was pretty confident that i’d want to pick up anything other stories mary h.k. choi decided to write and spoiler, i’m just as content after having finished this as i was after having finished choi’s debut.

i also want to say that i am almost certainly biased in favor of enjoying the way in which choi tells stories, and while there are aspects i’ll discuss in a more negative light toward the end of this discussion on the whole even the aspects that some readers might take issue with, they weren’t as big a deal with me. i also don’t believe that it’s not my place as a person who talks about books to do so in an objective way or to discuss this book as though it exists in a vacuum. as i discuss my thoughts here they are inherently subjective and i can only talk about the book in the way that i experienced it through a singular lens. hopefully, i’ll be able to articulate my thoughts to clearly convey that lens and how my lens and my experiences and what i got out of the book can assist someone else assessing whether this content could be for them.

i don’t really feel it’s my place to discuss pablo being korean + pakistani or the son of a not so strict muslim, nor is it my place to talk about how leanna’s being mexican is handled in the book. i don’t think anything in terms of their diverse heritage is written in any kind of problematic way, i think that both identities and the respective characters relationship with that identity is something that was explored in a really thoughtful way in the novel. with pablo, in particular, i felt that there were several moments where choi would callback to very specific feelings that he had where pablo would have these introspective reflective moments that were really a joy to read. i think that there were a number of lines in the book that dealt with the topic of identity and racism that really made me pause and chew on that thought for a moment. i really appreciated getting to have that sort of relationship with the text, specifically on that topic. i don’t think that the goal of any of these moments or scenes was characters moving to accept the intersection of their identities, rather than simply acknowledging how those intersections have impacted them as people and formed all aspects of their personality. i feel like the way i described and interpreted those moments makes it sound technical or detached, but it really resonated with me on a very fundamental level. the moments carried with them an honesty that i found to be really refreshing. because as i said they weren’t so much written as the characters struggling with what it meant to be x identity and more understanding how said identity has shaped them as people and continues to impact their lives. honestly not sure if that made anything more clear there, but i just really liked that aspect of the book.

i guess i want to start this discussion off with pablo rind, that just seems the most logical place to root this. i was initially surprised that the entire narrative was told from his perspective. or at least i was surprised after having skimmed the summary. i don’t think that the narrative falters because we only get pab’s perspective it was just something i wasn’t expecting. that said, being in pablo’s head was easily my favorite thing about this book. much like i’ve already talked about his introspective thoughts on his identity, i was in love with how pablo saw the world and thought about it. i don’t know if i would say that i agree with all of pablo’s observations, i would say that i was thoroughly entertained by them. while pablo is technically younger than i am, i felt that pablo was easily someone i could know. his friend group to a lesser extent also felt like people i could know. i appreciated the fact that pablo had a complicated relationship with his parents and family, but they were still an integral part of the book. if i’m being honest i’m really happy that this seems to be a trend with choi’s work so far. there’s even a sequence toward the last third of the book that involves pablo that is sort of a homecoming, it’s not really the correct phrasing but the best i can do while still remaining vague enough to not spoil anything that i thought was really fantastic. there’s something about the way choi juxtaposes his initial joy in this homecoming as his first instinctive thought against the realization that the childhood expectations he had were sort of silly that resonated with me on a very real level. it felt very grounded in a reality that allowed the reader to really connect with pablo in that moment.

i think that a lot of what i loved about pablo in particular, and again something that was a surprise, was how little the romance plays into this contemporary. i don’t mean to imply that the romance isn’t, i think that pablo allows this romance to be the thing that distracts him from everything else. almost in an “if i can keep this thing then the fact that all the other shit in my life that’s currently falling apart will work out” kind of way, that while anxiety-inducing in a way that i’ve never experienced before; was also just something that again grounded the novel. i’m very lucky in that i don’t have a crushing amount of student loan debt from my decision to drop out after one semester, so i couldn’t relate to that aspect of his journey, at least on a personal level, i was able to empathize with it. i think that a lot of the financial binds that pablo finds himself in are not only very real but provided something i don’t think gets a lot of page time in contemporary novels with this. the struggle with paying for college is something that a lot of american’s at least have to struggle with, and including that in the realistic way i thought was really a nice thing to do. even if only because when pablo was explaining the situation that landed him in the financial situation he was in gave me the big short vibes [ a film that has nothing to do with twenty-somethings falling in love, but their way of explaining complicated concepts relating to the lead up to the great recession was easily some of the best cinema ever made ] and i was already a sucker for pablo’s thoughts and when random bits of foundational material can be incorporated into the narrative in an organic way that was at least entertaining af to this human.

more than anything though the fact that pablo wasn’t really sure what it was that he wanted to do with his life was by far the most relatable. while i couldn’t relate to the full pressure of being financially in debt to the extent he was, can’t relate to bill collectors hounding me, but the sense of “i have plan” without actually moving forward was the biggest mood™. there was something anxiety-inducing about continuously reading about pablo continuously ignoring those particular responsibilities, but i think that was really a credit to choi’s writing. i was genuinely concerned about pablo. just as i was about his family when around halfway through the book there’s an emergency. obviously, not all of the characters were given an equitable amount of page time, but i felt that the page time we got with them was spent crafting believable and easily relatable.

i guess this is the part of the discussion where i guess we can turn to things that i didn’t quite vibe with. i’ll be honest, i don’t expect this portion to be any less ramble-y than the first half of this was, but i also am still unsure if these are actual flaws of the novel. i’ll do my best to remain spoiler free and i’ll do my best to explain the context of the lens through which i experienced this, and i fully accept the fact that i might not have interpreted this as was intended, but i don’t think that i’ve reached too far in terms of me not appreciating these aspects.

first, and what i think is the briefest conversation is some of the interactions between pablo and his friend group was just odd. maybe i’m more like pab’s mom [ the scene where he talks about her being the least sentimental person really struck a chord with me ], but there were moments that i thought really should have been called out. to be fair they were, and again, pablo’s position in life is different than my own circumstances and so expecting him to react to wyn’s obama birther comment in a way that i would have is unfair to all parties. the part that really left me speechless though had more to do with the cultural insensitivity of his friend getting his first big break on a law and order type procedural focused more on federal agents in nyc where he’d be playing a terrorist character with a generic middle eastern sounding name that fairly rubbed pablo the wrong way. this notion that pablo was somehow being a shitty friend for not being happy for this break or even that pablo had sorta ghosted the friend group to spend time with leanna at this point in time was wild to me. sure the girlfriend stuff is pretty valid, but the idea that a person should be happy that their friend is going to go on national television and play a stereotype about my culture, that seems to be outside the realm of what i would consider being actual friend behavior. the scene later with them making up and mending bridges and moving past that was nice because again we got to have a moment with pablo being introspective and his friend did raise a lot of valid points to all of the things going on in pablo’s life that he wasn’t dealing with. all of that i thought was really well handled. again, it’s hard for me to really label it a flaw, especially given i feel like it could have been written with the intent for the reader to stand with pab in that particular instance, but i remember just having a really getting rubbed the wrong way by the part of the conversation that dealt with this friend playing the terrorist on the racist television show.

now we get to the hard part of this discussion, the part of the book that honestly made me the most conflicted. the romance between our two leads. seeing as i didn’t talk at length about the stuff i liked about that particular aspect at length before i will do so now. i was a big fan of their initial meeting. as far as meet-cutes go this was solid, and i was really on board with their dynamic from the jump. i will say though that i’m a sucker for any dynamic where both parties are clever, i’m a sucker for a snappy one-liner when two characters teeter on the edge of being mean to each other i’m destined to fall for them. i think that’s sort of the appeal in a contemporary with romance elements, you want those conversations where both parties are on the top of their game, where there isn’t that missing beat or that thing you wish you could take back. the dialogue is just heightened enough to where you can believe that people would say these things but still at a level where it can come off as aspirational. if that at all makes any sense.

i even thought that the duo was opposite enough to make it work. sure the famous entity going matched with someone who leads a more ordinary person isn’t the most unique idea under the sun, but even then i think that the setup worked well enough. there were still aspects, particularly the interim between the first and second bodega visits that could tug on a reader’s suspension of disbelief, but i don’t think that it’s anything that ruins the novel. again, we’re operating in a heightened space that is still trying to come across as realistic, and a minor tug isn’t going to be the thing that makes me lose it. i’d need a few more instances and thankfully none popped up.

i want to revisit the part of the discussion where i talked about this being told solely from pablo’s perspective. i didn’t really start to think this was an issue until the end of the novel where i felt things started to come together almost too neatly? i started to get this sense that it was almost like through his time with leanna that pablo was able to see the things in his life that he wasn’t doing, the steps he should be taking to better himself. i’m hesitant to really call leanna a plot device because i do think that it’s always been clear that the two of them weren’t exactly the best of matches for one another. again, i think that there were a lot of moments in the novel where pablo was allowed to have introspective moments and it was established that he was the type of person that allowed himself to be distracted or chased after thing for the chase and that relationship with leanna could easily be one of those instances, so discussing it in this way is hard for me to do. taken as a whole i don’t think that the novel is poorly written, especially in regards to their relationship. i don’t really think that there were any moments where leanna outwardly tried to change pab or show him how his life could be better, which is part of why i stop short of calling her a plot device. i do think on some level even before the final third of the book pab knew and understood what the endgame would be. i actually liked what the endgame happened to be. i’m a big fan of the trend in contemporaries not to give in to the expected ending, or at least the ending that would break the internal logic of the book. i think it’d be easy to call the ending a disappointment, but i appreciated that the ending like so much else int he narrative was honest in a raw way that allowed the reader to connect to it.

before i transition into my closing thoughts, i do want to say that there is a part in the book, the final third where there is a discussion of actions that i thought were just grossly manipulative of leanna as a minor. i wasn’t expecting it, i don’t think that it detracts from the narrative in any way. i just think that i think that it implies a more complex dynamic between leanna and a side character that i know i would have appreciated having explored with leanna’s perspective. that also wasn’t the story that choi wanted to tell, and i think that it’s always a sign of a good story when there are threads that you want to keep pulling, so it’s not a knock in this case i guess. if it wasn’t clear by this point that i have a lot of contradictory thoughts, particularly in what are the “weaker” points of the novel, then i don’t know what to say to you. just know that there’s about a paragraph of text in the last third of the book that could be considered grooming behavior. around the middle-ish, just before the third act, there’s a conversation centering around assault / unwanted touching. again, it’s nothing graphic, it’s two pages of a conversation, but it is there. i think both instances were well handled and well written. just know.

at the end of the day, this is one of my favorite books i’ve ever read, period. i have never felt more connected to the main character than i did reading pablo. i was constantly torn between wanting to read the book as slowly as possible as to savor every moment i’d get to spend with pablo for the first time and reading through the novel as quickly as possible to continue the experience i was having. this book constantly had me pausing to chew on a sentence, whether it was because of the construction or the content, and i’ve honestly never felt this engaged while reading something. choi crafted something in these 400+ pages that were truly magical and one of a kind. i will forever be jealous of those that get to come to this story for the first time and is a book that i know i will return to time and time again. not only to check back in on pab but because of the narrative; while discussing issues that are relevant today, are also issues that i think are timeless and welcome a revisit. someday things might fall into place for me the way that they did for pablo, i’ll have to work on that. until then though i’m grateful to have had this experience at this point in my life. i hope that all future readers of this are able to enjoy this book at least a fraction of the amount that i did if not more so.

[redditnosleep]

Has Anyone Heard of The Left/Right Game?

by NeonTempo

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 (Final)

Hi Guys,

It’s been a long week, but I’ve finally got to my computer to post the next log. I’ve been working overtime to afford both London rent and Christmas presents. Hasn’t been fun. Anyway I can’t say much more since this log’s one of the longer ones. I’ll try and get the next one up a little sooner.

Thanks for all your help.

The Left/Right Game [DRAFT 1] 11/02/2017

The next morning, everything’s the same.

It’s strange. We’re usually so blind to the quiet consistency in our everyday lives, only really taking notice once something changes. Yet, as I stir a spiral of honey into my oatmeal and glance around the group, it’s the notable lack of change that truly stands out.

Since the previous evening, the atmosphere surrounding the convoy, and the demeanour of each member, doesn’t seem to have altered in the slightest. The night has fallen short in its role as a grand meridian, failing to partition the past and future, and bringing with it neither perspective nor closure. It’s as if yesterday has spilled, like a toppled brush pot, into the next morning, colouring everything with the same temperaments, fears and divisions.

Lilith and Eve sit facing each other, their legs crossed on a plastic groundsheet. Neither are saying very much, albeit for vastly different reasons. Lilith is still preoccupied by her own smouldering indignation, whereas Eve looks overcome with a subtle but pervasive dread. Neither have taken food from Rob’s stove, a decision I suspect Lilith made for the both of them.

Apollo, Bonnie and Clyde are across from me. Apollo is making conversation, attempting to revive his usual good humour. Bonnie and Clyde help him out, laughing at his jokes, and smiling along with his stories.

Bluejay hasn’t stepped out of her car all morning, eating her own rations and maintaining a welcome distance from the rest of the group. Her eyes meet mine as I look her way, and I’m treated to a sharp, sardonic dismissal.

And Rob? Rob is attending to the practicalities of the road; serving breakfast, then topping up the Wrangler from one of the hulking jerry cans. It’s clear the routine is comforting to him. I can easily imagine this is how he deals with a great many problems. Compartmentalising. Recasting himself as a blunt instrument engaged in a set of necessary processes. He’s made himself too busy for grief, and will likely remain so until the feeling fades.

As coping mechanisms go, it isn’t remotely healthy. I should know. I’m doing pretty much the exact same thing.

AS: Clyde, could I get a few words?

Clyde looks up from his food, a little surprised.

CLYDE: You want me?

AS: Hah, yeah… if that’s not too much trouble.

CLYDE: Oh no no, no trouble at all. You want to do it now? I’m not too hungry.

AS: No me neither. That would be great thank you. Would you mind if we moved away from the stove?

Clyde nods keenly. Putting my bowl to one side, I take Clyde to the edge of the apple grove. Nobody looks after us.

CLYDE: How are you holding up Bristol?

AS: Getting there. How about you?

CLYDE: I’m uhh… yeah I’m getting by.

AS: So can I ask… why did you choose Bonnie and Clyde as your call signs?

CLYDE: Hah well it came pretty easy. We used to play outlaws when we were kids, one time Bonnie stuck up a bank.

AS: Really?

CLYDE: Well, no it was an ice cream parlour. But Bonnie was pretending it was a bank and then she ran in, holding her hand like a gun. Told Mrs Gilford it was a stick-up.

AS: Wow, that doesn’t seem like her.

CLYDE: Oh no she was a wild child. Always living in a story. Anyway, we got free sundaes and a new nickname in town after that. When Rob told us about the call signs it was the first thing we thought of.

AS: It’s a good choice.

I pause, letting the previous subject fade before launching into the next one. All things considered, this may be the last time me and Clyde are on such casual speaking terms.

AS: Bonnie told me she talked to the hitchhiker.

Clyde’s disposition shifts. There’s sudden alertness that wasn’t there before, rushing to the fore in immediate response to my words. In the following silence, at the centre of his wide eyed stare, an educated guess suddenly becomes much more.

CLYDE: Wh.. when did she tell you?

AS: I’m sorry Clyde… she didn’t. You just did.

I can almost see the stone fall in Clyde’s throat. The deep, burning embarrassment and hurt that comes from being deceived, from a close secret you held getting out into the world. I don’t feel exceptional either. Lying to Clyde, bringing him away from Bonnie under the guise of an interview… beyond the personal abhorrence, it also flies in the face of everything I’ve tried to be as a journalist.

Clyde can’t bring himself to talk, so I press forward.

AS: I think it might be best if you call Bonnie over here.

Nodding vaguely, Clyde wordlessly shuffles back to Bonnie, whispering in her ear. She puts a hand on his shoulder and helps herself up. Whatever he’s told her, she doesn’t seem angry as she joins us beneath the shade of the apple trees.

BONNIE: I didn’t want to cause any trouble, a… and Clyde’s been looking forward to this trip for so long I didn’t want us to turn back. I’m sorry.

AS: What happened Bonnie?

BONNIE: I just said two words. I wasn’t talking to him; I was doing what Rob said but then he… I just said “Bless you.” That’s all it was.

AS: That’s it?

BONNIE: Well I… he thanked me and then he was just… so easy to talk to and I thought, “Well I’ve already talked to him, what will a few more words do?”

CLYDE: She hardly said anything else.

AS: What about him? Did he say anything?

Bonnie starts to smile, the same way she did last night. A dreamy, enthused expression glowing with reminiscent joy.

BONNIE: He told me about this wonderful place. Wasn’t it wonderful Martin?

CLYDE: Bonnie-

BONNIE: Just a few houses by the sea, but he made it sound so nice.

CLYDE: Bonnie, please…

BONNIE: What’s wrong? I can talk about it right?

When I look back to Clyde, his lips are firmly pressed together, his facial muscles tight. He’s holding something back, but what slips through betrays a poignant dismay.

CLYDE: It’s all you talk about Bonnie. You… you mentioned it a few times after… and since Jubilation you ain’t stopped.

AS: Are you guys talking about Wintery Bay?

Clyde grimaces, and Bonnie grins, when they hear the name.

AS: Bonnie are we heading there?

BONNIE: The hitchhiker said it’s on our way. I’m so looking forward to seeing it.

I can’t say I feel the same, and it’s safe to say Clyde agrees with me. Before now, I’d only heard Bonnie mention Wintery Bay on two occasions, but it sounds like she’s talked about it a whole lot more. I sympathise with Clyde for what he’s had to deal with. However, the gross irresponsibility of his actions aren’t lost on me either.

AS: Does Rob know?

CLYDE: I didn’t want to-

AS: You didn’t want to trouble him? Or did you just not want him to turn you around?

BONNIE: I’m alright, really.

AS: Well either way, you need to tell Rob before we hit the road.

Clyde shuffles uncomfortably.

AS: I’m not going to do it for you. But too much has happened on this trip already. Ace is… this place is dangerous ok? There’s no place for lies any more.

I hope that Clyde doesn’t see the irony, given that I’ve roundly deceived him in the past five minutes. He nods, takes Bonnie’s hand, and walks slowly towards the Wrangler. Rob is loading the last of the fold up chairs into the back of the car. The conversation doesn’t last long, but by the end of it, Rob rests his hand on Bonnie’s shoulder and sends them on their way. He doesn’t look mad. Perhaps he just has other things on his mind.

That’s the second thing I’ve done today that’s inherently non-journalistic. I was supposed to be a fly on the wall for this story, a passenger, recording events with objective detachment without my own influence seeping into proceedings. In many ways I wish I still was. But the stakes are higher now, and though secrets make for good editorial, they’re also potentially damaging to the safety of the group. Following the incident with Ace, I’m slightly less concerned with an unbiased story than I am with getting home to tell it.

Rob looks like he’s about to make his morning address. The group wanders over, some more reluctantly than others, and gathers around the Wrangler.

ROB: First things first, I want to say that… well… tempers got a little heated last night, and that I’m sorry for my part in all that. I wanna thank you for coming with me this far, and if you wanna turn back, well that’s just fine.

The group stays quiet.

ROB: If you are headin’ back. I’d say if you travel one by one, be sure to stay on the radios, retrace the route and follow all the rules that applied when you were gettin’ here. Now can I get a show of hands, who’s wantin’ to keep goin’ on the road?

I observe my compatriots closely. The definites will be Bonnie & Clyde, who have already implied that they want to continue, and also Bluejay, who feels she has nothing to worry about from the road. Apollo is in the wind, and Lilith & Eve are probably a split vote. All in all, this could be the moment our convoy splits in half.

Bluejay throws her hand up lazily. Bonnie and Clyde, predictably, raise theirs. Apollo raises his a few moments later.

APOLLO: Hey, I’ve come this far.

That leaves Lilith and Eve. After sharing a brief glance with her friend, Lilith raises her hand and Eve follows suit, albeit with an air of trepidation.

I’m surprised that no one’s turning back, after everything that happened yesterday, but it’s clear everyone has their own reasons. I’m just glad I don’t have to say goodbye to anyone. I set about trying to divine everyone’s motives for continuing on the road, but I quickly stop when I realise everyone’s looking at me.

AS: Oh sorry. Yeah I’m in... I’m going… that way.

I gesture to the road ahead and raise my hand redundantly.

ROB: Well ok. I guess that’s everyone then. We got a fair way to travel today but there ain’t much to see. Just follow the rules and take things as they come I guess.

As we pull out, I start to feel a little restless. The sedentary nature of travel is beginning to take its toll, and I’m starting to feel overfamiliar with the Wrangler’s passenger seat. I’m glad that I got a chance to stretch my legs last night.

Rolling, Elysian corn fields span the roadside for the next five hours. Turns are few and far between, but Rob’s attention never wavers. I only manage to grasp his attention briefly.

AS: Aren’t Jeeps supposed to have poor fuel economy?

ROB: They ain’t the best. That’s why I always bring gas along.

AS: It’s just… the fuel gauge has hardly moved since we left this morning.

ROB: Haha. You noticed that huh? I was wonderin’ if you were gunna.

AS: Why, what have you done to it?

ROB: Nuthin’. It’s the road. Makes fuel burn slower.

AS: Seriously?

ROB: Ain’t just that either. You finish your food this mornin’?

AS: No… why?

ROB: Hardly anyone did, ‘cept Apollo. More you go, less you need to keep goin’.

AS: Ok… wait you said the road pushes against you.

ROB: Yep.

AS: But now you’re making it sound like it’s helping us along.

ROB: Yep.

AS: So it’s hostile whilst also incentivising us? That sounds odd to me.

ROB: Sounds like life to me. Reasons to stop, reasons to keep goin’.

I suppose that makes sense. Despite his well-documented obsession with the secrets of the road, Rob seems to have a strangely laissez faire attitude to its internal logic. It’s like the road doesn’t need to make perfect sense to him, or at least he doesn’t expect it to yet.

As the fresh rural air drifts in through the windows, I lose myself in the hypnotic endlessness of the passing fields. I wonder how many eyes have seen these vistas. I wonder where we are, not geographically, but in a grander sense. Are we still in the world as I know it? Are we beyond it? Below it? Or have we just slipped through the cracks, into some intermediate domain?

Rob slows the car down to a crawl, a precaution he takes before most corners. My eyes wander gently back into the Wrangler, finally resting on the rear view.

There’s something behind us. A humanoid figure, shrouded in the soft focus of considerable distance. It staggers quickly toward the convoy, unsure on its own feet.

AS: Rob what is that?

Rob follows my gaze to the rear view mirror. His brow furrows.

ROB: Somethin’ new.

Rob grabs the receiver. Before he can make an announcement, the speaker splutters with static, followed by Eve’s frantic voice.

EVE: Guys there’s something behind us... guys? Something’s coming after us. Bluejay can you see it?

Bluejay doesn’t answer. I doubt she considers it worth her time. A squealing panic rings out over the radio as Eve calls again.

EVE: Is it from Jubilation? Guys? Guys?!

ROB: Stay calm everyone. Let’s pick up the pace a little.

Rob lets his foot rest heavier on the gas. The Wrangler gently accelerates, with the rest of the convoy eagerly matching our speed.

APOLLO: Who is that Rob?

ROB: I ain’t so sure, but we got a turn coming up. Let’s just get ourselves off the road, see if he follows.

The figure continues to stumble towards us. Its arms hang crookedly in the air and, as it comes into sharper focus, I can just make out that there’s something wrong with its face.

EVE: Guys speed up, please. Please.

LILITH: Calm down.

EVE: It’s coming for us!

I can sympathise with Eve’s panic. I’ve had the luxury of travelling at the head of the convoy. I was the first across when that godforsaken pine was dropped across the road. Eve is now second to last, relying on three other cars to make their escape before she can follow. Ace had to wait for the rest of us, and it cost him everything. Now Eve & Lilith are one car closer to being where he was.

EVE: It’s face. Oh my god! Oh my god. Guys please!

BLUEJAY: Jesus, shut up!

APOLLO: Hey that is NOT helping. Rob it’s movin’ pretty fast we-

ROB: We stay the course. It ain’t caught up yet just-

EVE: Oh god. Oh god, oh GOD!

Rob’s warnings are cut short by the screeching of tires. Eve swerves out of the convoy’s neat, single file line, and onto the empty stretch of road beside us. The car accelerates past Bonnie & Clyde. Past Apollo.

I get a brief glimpse of Eve & Lilith as our windows align.

Lilith is yelling at Eve, trying to get her to calm down. Eve is screaming into the air, the puppet of her own frenetic terror. The car shoots past us and down the long road ahead. Rob swears and picks up the radio.

The figure continues to lurch towards us.

ROB: Ferryman to Eve & Lilith. Stop the car right now.

LILITH: Eve slow down!

ROB: Eve goddamnit you’re gonna-

I stare through the windshield as their car stops. Not a slow, grinding deceleration, but an unequivocal, immediate halt. Their bodies are thrown forwards against the safety glass as the car becomes utterly motionless.

AS: Rob what’s happening?

ROB: I told’em to be careful!

AS: Why what’s-

I no longer need an answer. I realise that it’s written right in front of me, etched into the side of the road. A brief gap in the endless rows of golden corn, only a little wider than the Wrangler itself. A dirt track the leads off to the left, about ten metres ahead of us, about fifteen metres behind Lilith & Eve. I now understand why Rob was being so careful, and why Eve should have been as well.

They’ve missed the next turn.

ROB: Ferryman to all cars. I’ve found the turn, let’s make it quick. Eve and Lilith you stay in the car. I’m coming back to get you both.

Rob flicks on his turn signal, preparing the group for the sharp left corner, and slams his foot on the accelerator. Lilith and Eve disappear behind a wall of corn as we pull down the dirt track. Rob keeps driving, until enough space is left for the rest of the group.

Once they’re all safely pulled in, Rob climbs into the back of the car, grabs his rifle and jumps out onto the path. I quickly climb out and follow behind him.

When we arrive on the main road, the figure has covered a considerable distance, finally drawing near enough for me to see what’s wrong with its face. At a certain point, midway across the crown of the head, running in a straight line down past the cheeks and under the jaw, the head simply stops. It’s like the foremost section of his skull has been sliced cleanly off, and has bent inwards, his entire face concave and shrouded completely in a deep shadow. A ghastly, organic hood, that seems deeper than physics should allow.

That isn’t all that’s wrong with the picture however. The man’s outstretched arms are bent in several places. Dark purple contusions blossom at every unnatural joint as if his arms had been broken multiple times. His leg is also bent to one side, the reason for the irregular walk that still carries him towards us.

Rob looks shaken as he raises the rifle to his shoulder, bidding the figure turn around.

The man ignores Rob’s demand, continuing its march. Even when a bullet hits it square in the chest, the figure hardly slows down. We’re forced to jump out of the way as it continues down the road, Eve and Lilith cowering in their locked car as it approaches.

Fear shifts into confusion as the creature passes them by, and continues down the road. It’s as if it doesn’t even know we’re here.

Rob breathes a sigh of relief, lowers the gun, and runs back to the rest of the convoy. The moment he leaves, my mind notes something peculiar. It’s an utterly bizarre observation, especially considering the many otherworldly facets of the retreating creature, there’s something familiar about it. Specifically, its fashion sense.

The shirt, the dirt covered jeans. They aren’t dissimilar to the ones I found in the brown leather duffel bag, resting atop the block of C4.

Reaching into my pocket, pulling out my phone, I scroll through my list of contacts. As the man heaves himself down the road, I call the second number I discovered last night. The one in the Nokia’s received calls list. The number that likely belonged to whoever created the bomb, and whoever was driving the car that day.

After a few moments, a ringtone disrupts the creature’s silent walk. I end the call, realising how reckless I’ve been and praying that the strange figure doesn’t see my action as an excuse to turn around.

I’m lucky, this time at least. The dial tone cuts out, and the figure continues to stumble its way toward the horizon.

The next thing I hear is a scream.

Scanning for its source, I see Eve, her door open and with one foot out of the car. She’s frantically pulling at her leg, seemingly unable to lift it from the tarmac.

AS: Eve what’s going on?

With shaking fingers, Eve clumsily unties her shoelace, and lifts her leg back into the car. Her boot stays in place, and it’s possible to make out a slight elasticity to the road below it, a depression in the tarmac around its base. Slowly, and steadily, the sole of the boot disappears into the road. Eve watches as the dark tarmac slowly sucks the boot down, enveloping the heel and dragging it beneath the surface.

The thought comes to Eve the same moment it does to me. We both fix our eyes on the back of the car, where same, soft indent is gradually developing around the tyres.

Eve’s terrified scream is drowned out by the blare of revving engines. I jump out of the way as the rest of the convoy reverse out of the corner and back onto the main road. Bluejay, Bonnie & Clyde, Apollo and finally Rob, park themselves chaotically around me. Rob jumps out and approaches.

ROB: They ain’t pulled back yet?

As soon as he asks the question, he sees the sight before him. Only the neck of Eve’s boot remains above the ground, sinking ever further into the tarmac. The road gradually but voraciously churns at the car tyres, consuming the rubber, and swallowing the lowest edge of the wheel cover.

In the midst of such an impossible sight, all I can say to Rob is:

AS: They’re trying.

Lilith & Eve hit the gas hard. The engine growls at the road as it furiously attempts to reverse, the undercarriage creaking and groaning from the sheer mechanical strain. The wheels themselves, however, don’t rotate an inch. The tyres belong to the road now, taken by the unknowable forces that continue to drag them into the earth.

The engine chokes, defeated, and I can see Eve screaming into her fists as the roadway calmly continues its work.

ROB: Goddamn it we can’t reach’em. Tell’em to get on top of the car.

APOLLO: What the… What’s happening Rob?

ROB: Bristol! Tell’em to get on the roof!

Rob marches off to the Wrangler. The rest of the convoy gather on the road, just in line with the left turn, where we assume it’s safe to stand. Everyone, saving for Bluejay, looks on in anxious silence.

AS: Eve! Lilith! I need you to get on top of the car ok? Guys?

EVE: We’re sinking! Oh fuck… oh fuck we’re-

AS: Eve! I’m trying to help you. Rob’s working on something, but you need to climb onto the roof of the car. Don’t think about anything else. Open the door, wind down your window and use it as a foothold.

Eve is still deaf with worry. Lilith doesn’t hesitate. She places one hand on the upper rim of her open door, one foot on the base of the open window, and her free hand palm down on the car’s roof. The door rocks on its hinges as she puts her weight on it. In one strong motion, she pushes herself backwards until she’s sitting atop the car.

The tarmac has swallowed its way to the car’s lower chassis. Eve stares, transfixed by the road as it pulls her ever closer towards it.

LILITH: Sarah look at me!

Lilith is crouching on the car’s roof, her hand reaching down to Eve. Her friends voice seems to be the only thing that can break Eve’s fearful commune with the waiting abyss. She turns around, Lilith’s hand a few inches from her face.

LILITH: Get up here.

Her eyes brimming with tears, fought back by rapid, shallow breaths, Eve grabs Lilith’s hand. Lilith gets a solid handhold around the lip of her own doorway and heaves Eve up and onto the roof of the car. Eve shrieks a little as the door swings, putting all her trust into Lilith’s grip.

She joins her friend on the roof just as the road consumes the lower edge of the door, spilling inside the car’s cabin like magma.

ROB: Damnit they’re too far away.

Rob has returned from the Wrangler, rapidly uncoiling a braid of long, light blue climber’s rope. I’d seen it resting in the back of the car during the trip, never once thinking that I’d see it used.

Rob threads one end of the rope through a carabiner and secures it in place with a tight knot. He holds it to his side as he shouts to Lilith & Eve.

ROB: Ok listen, we only got one shot at this. I’m gonna throw you the hook and you’re gonna catch it and yank it taut ok? Then you can hook it onto somethin’ and climb your way over. Don’t let it fall. Ok?

Lilith looks pale. She nods before clambering to her feet, and stepping to the back of the car. Eve watches on, her hands wrapped around her legs.

ROB: Well, here goes nothin’.

Rob begins to swing the rope over his head, a large undulating circle that quickly levels out as the weight of the carabiner eases the rope onto a flat plane. I instinctively shrug down as the rope passes over my head, swinging faster and faster. Gritting his teeth, his face reddening with the towering pressure of this single throw, Rob lets the rope fly. It arcs in the air, like a cast fishing line, towards Lilith’s outstretched hands.

I watch it pass in front of her, the metal of the carabiner glinting in the sun as it falls.

She catches it, grasping the rope in her shaking hands.

Despite her victory, I see her face contort with sudden and striking panic. She holds the rope high over her head, staring wildly down at the road between us. Following her eyes, my heart falls. She caught the rope, but she didn’t pull it taut fast enough.

Even with Rob continuing to hold his end above his head, the rope had too much slack when it landed in Lilith’s hands. It’s fallen in a sloping arc, the lowest point of which has scraped against the tarmac. It only rests a few precious seconds before Lilith finds herself unable to pull it free. It sinks into the ground. The rope starts to brush gently against Rob’s fingers before he throws it to the ground.

ROB: Goddamnit! Ok… if I just got somethin’ else. Somethin’ we can put down.

AS: The empty jerry cans? They could step on-

ROB: Too unstable, and we’d have to throw them perfect. Ok… ok.

The road has claimed almost half the car now, eating up the licence plate as the vehicle sinks lower and lower. Lilith looks helplessly on as we deliberate, Eve crying her eyes out behind her.

CLYDE: We could get a ground sheet.

ROB: We ain’t got one that’ll stretch.

AS: Well what about-

APOLLO: I’m going out there.

Apollo’s blank statement catches us all by surprise. Turning in his direction, I note a direct and powerful confidence in his manner.

APOLLO: They aren’t gonna last much longer. It takes a second for the road to get you, that’s how they got so far ahead before they stopped. I drive out, they jump onto my car, then we climb back.

ROB: I ain’t got more rope.

APOLLO: You got the winch right? If I drive out with it bunched up on my lap I can make sure it never goes slack. Then I hook it up to my roof bars and we get the hell outta dodge.

ROB: You got the best car for it. But I should drive out there.

APOLLO: You need to work the winch. Bonnie & Clyde can’t climb back.

He skips over his rationale for not choosing Bluejay, not wanting to waste time on a foregone conclusion.

AS: What about me? I’m lighter, the climb back would be easier.

APOLLO: But you can’t help them when they’re jumping over. We’re wasting time, you know it’s a good idea.

Rob takes a moment to consider it, his mind fighting for a better solution.

ROB: You’d better get back here Apollo.

APOLLO: Don’t plan on hanging around there Rob.

Apollo grins before sprinting to his Rover. Rob, wasting no time, runs to the winch, switches it to manual, and unspools the heavy duty rope. His hands cross over as he drops each new length onto the ground.

I turn back to Lilith.

AS: Did you hear that Lilith?!

Lilith is huddled next to Eve, attempting to comfort her as the car’s headlights disappear into the depths of the road. Her head snaps round when I call.

LILITH: What’s… what’s happening?

AS: Apollo’s coming out to you. You have to jump onto his car and climb back over ok?

LILITH: … Ok!

She hurries back to Eve, grasping her friend’s shoulders as she relays the plan.

ROB: Ok that’ll hold.

Rob’s climbing down from the hood of the Wrangler. He’s fed the winch cable around and through the lighting rig, ensuring a good level of clearance on the way out and, more importantly, for the climb back. The rope has already been fed through Apollo’s driver’s side window.

Bonnie and Clyde are helping to throw Apollos’ baggage out of the trunk and onto the rode behind him. The less he has to lose on this trip the better.

ROB: All set up over here.

APOLLO: Ok. See you on the other side Rob.

Apollo slams his foot onto the accelerator. The Range Rover bolts forwards, and powers toward the threshold. The engine roars as he rockets past the left turn and keeps on going, into the territory beyond. In the few precious seconds he has, he crosses the distance towards the two terrified girls. The winch rope streams through the window, and then suddenly, pulls tight.

Apollo is thrown forwards as the car comes to an uncompromising stop, roughly a metre’s distance from Lilith & Eve. The impact looks brutal, but Apollo somehow manages to keep a hold on the rope and, inexplicably, his sense of humour.

APOLLO: I don’t think I got the insurance for this.

Clumsily, still feeling the aftereffects of the sudden stop, Apollo throws open his door and starts to climb out.

APOLLO: Take in the slack Rob!

My attention fixed on Apollo, I hear the mechanical whir as the winch kicks into life. As Apollo climbs out of his car and up onto the roof, he affixes the hook at the end of the winch to one of his roof bars, securing it in place. A few moments later, the rope is pulled straight.

Apollo steps down onto the hood of his car, his arms outstretched to the girls. It’s a short jump, but they’ll have to make it from a lower elevation, the trunk of the car already sinking to ground level.

APOLLO: Ok come on I got you, we’ve got to move fast now.

Lilith stands up, helping Eve to her feet before stepping down onto the rapidly disappearing trunk.

LILITH: Ok… ok…

Lilith yelps as she throws herself towards Apollo. Her front foot plants itself on the hood of the car, her other leg flailing in the air behind her. Apollo grabs her by the arms and yanks her onto the car, holding her close to him as she gets her bearing on the smooth metal of the hood. When she’s stable, he lets her crawl up onto the roof, where she immediately looks back to Eve.

APOLLO: See Eve, nothin’ to it. Come on now.

Eve paces back, her hands shaking as she contemplates the jump. Fighting against her screaming instincts, Eve squeals as she steps across the trunk and makes the leap across. The toe of her shoe lifting off the car mere seconds before it descends into the murky, black pitch of the road.

Eve lands short of her destination. One desperate, grasping arm makes contact with Apollo’s as her legs bang and scrape against the Rover’s grill, scrambling for any conceivable purchase. Apollo is wrenched sideways by the force of Eve’s landing, thrown off balance by the unexpected application of her whole weight. In the gut churning moments that follow, Apollo tugs Eve up to his chest and wraps an arm around her, his centre of gravity passing over the edge of the car.

The fall takes a lifetime. Wrapped in each other’s arms, Eve and Apollo tumble forward towards the patient, ravenous ground. In the split second before he leaves the hood of the car, Apollo uses his last inch of footing to push himself into a slow turn. The twist continues as they fall, until Eve is looking to the road, Apollo to the pale blue sky. In one final action, Apollo pushes Eve’s waist, holding her at arms length.

Apollo’s back thuds into the asphalt, his head smacking audibly against it. Dazed and concussed, he manages to hold Eve aloft, keeping everything but her feet from joining him on the hard ground.

APOLLO: Get back up… quickly get back up.

Her face shredded by fear and guilt and sorrow, Eve stares into Apollo’s eyes and whimpers. Collecting herself, she pushes herself off him, ripping out her laces, and leaving a shoe and a sock behind as she clambers back on to the Range Rover. With every movement she whispers a quivering apology.

APOLLO: It’s ok. It’s ok. Go on. It’s ok.

He repeats those two words over and over, until I’m not even sure who he’s talking to. The road elasticates around him, dragging him down into its depths. Eve looks back to him, her face cringing in misery.

Bonnie buries her face in Clyde’s chest, unable to watch the next few moments unfold.

EVE: I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.

APOLLO: It’s… it’s alright. Just get going ok? It doesn’t hurt… it doesn’t hurt, really.

Apollo’s ears sink beneath the road. Entering a new world of perfect silence, Apollo sees the end nearing.

APOLLO: Oh god. Rob! ROB!!

I won’t play his final moments, for your benefit and, ultimately, for his. Before he sinks into the road, Apollo asks for Rob to talk to his family. He wants Rob to tell them that he loves them. Rob nods, knowing that Apollo won’t be able to hear his response.

After a few cries of panicked despair, Apollo’s eyes and mouth are enveloped by the road. His screams are drowned by the thick, churning asphalt.

Eve watches the rest of his body sink, while Lilith tugs at her sleeve, pulling her towards the roof.

LILITH: Come on we’ve got to go. Sarah we’ve got to go!

EVE: I’m sorry.

Whispering one last heartfelt apology to the air itself, Eve steps up with Lilith and stares at the cable.

AS: Ok guys just let yourself down until you’re hanging from the rope and work your way across.

LILITH: I got it! You ready?

Eve looks to her friend.

EVE: I… I don’t…

LILITH: Just watch me ok? Follow right behind me.

The Range Rover’s wheels have now disappeared. With every passing second, the cable’s clearance diminishes, and the angle between the roof bar and the Wrangler’s lighting rig becomes steeper. They need to start moving now or not at all.

Eve looks across the length of the rope. I can feel her mind kicking back at the prospect.

EVE: I can’t.

LILITH: Sarah… we fucking have to ok? Follow behind me.

Lilith wraps her arms around Eve, hugging her stiff, shivering frame, before letting go and crouching down to the rope, slowly working her way under it. Her hands clenching the cable, her legs wrapped securely around it, Lilith starts to pull herself along the rope, shifting her feet up every few seconds behind her. She fixes her eyes on me as she drags herself to the halfway mark.

LILITH: Is she following?!

The asphalt swallows the Range Rover’s lower chassis. Eve hasn’t moved a muscle. The stretch of black tarmac might as well be a bottomless ravine, the Grand Canyon. The idea of hanging herself over it mortifies her.

AS: Sarah! Sarah it’s not as bad as it looks, please! Please come on.

Lilith crosses the threshold. Her knuckles are white as she continues to cling to the rope. Rob marches up to her and helps her down into his arms, coaxing her hands free by telling her that she’s safe.

As soon as her feet hit the ground again, they give way beneath her, and Lilith sinks to the ground crying out.

LILITH: Sarah! Come on please!!

EVE: I can’t! I can’t… I…

LILITH: Please Sarah… I need you here.

Her shallow breaths quaking with anxiety, Eve slowly crouches down and grips the rope. Slowly but surely, as the asphalt consumes the car’s licence plate less than a metre below her, Eve lowers herself down and, with clumsy desperation, drags herself along the rope.

She’s left it late. Her back hangs mere inches from the hungry ground as she shuffles unevenly towards us, lifting her feet and scraping them up the rope, her arms straining to stay locked.

EVE: I’m not going to make it!

LILITH: You are! Keep going!

The Range Rover’s window is now disappearing, inside the dashboard has been submerged. With every yard that Eve manages to climb, the lowering rope ensures she stays close to the ground, even over the final few feet.

My heart breaks the moment her foot slips.

It happens almost too quickly to register. As Eve erratically shuffles her feet along the rope, her bare left foot gives way, swinging underneath her and kicking down onto the ground. Eve tries to raise it in time before discovering that she can’t.

LILITH: No… no no no please.

Thrown entirely off balance, Eve tries to pull herself up. However, with her lower leg seeping into the dark tar, her position can’t be maintained. She falls, her body twisting, as she falls onto the road.

Lilith releases a terrible shrieking cry. Eve whimpers as the side of her head rests against the tarmac, her cheek already subsumed.

EVE: I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

LILITH: No. No. Please don’t be sorry.

EVE: I.. love you. I love y… you Jen.

LILITH: I love you too… I’m sorry I didn’t… I’m so sorry.

Eve tries to reply, but half of her mouth is sealed shut, encased in the creeping asphalt. Her short breaths finally melt into one long inhalation, as her nose and mouth are sunk entirely.

One remaining eye takes a final, fleeting look at Lilith, before vanishing.

I look away from what is still to sink. The important things are already gone.

Lilith collapses on her knees, a screaming of torrent of grief expelled from her burning lungs. Rob is completely immobile, likely searching for something practical in which to bury himself. Bonnie & Clyde simply look lost, as they turn their backs on the sinking Range Rover.

Bluejay’s reaction surprises me. She stares into the tarmac, the smirk ripped from her face, replaced by a familiar look of shellshock. She repeatedly mutters something under her breath, something that sounds like:

“It’s not real… It’s not real.”

We stand in silence for what seems like an age, accompanied by the breeze and Lilith’s gradually waning laments. After she’s exorcised the immediate torment, her screaming descends into a deathly stillness.

Rob makes the first step to approach her.

ROB: I… I can take you back home if you want to-

LILITH: No... No.

Lilith wipes her eyes, as tears continue to fall freely down her cheeks. When she turns around, she looks enraged.

LILITH: No. I’m still going. I’m going to get to the end.

ROB: You know I can’t tell you when that’ll be.

Lilith stands up and glares at Rob, then looks over to Bonnie & Clyde.

LILITH: Are you guys still going? Do you have a seat free?

The siblings look to one another. Bonnie nods.

CLYDE: You got a place with us if you want it.

LILITH: Is the door unlocked?

CLYDE: Uhh yeah.

LILITH: Then what the fuck are we waiting around for?

Lilith marches to Clyde’s Ford and climbs into the back seat. She waits for us impatiently to finish up.

ROB: Anyone else want to turn around?

Rob looks to me and Bluejay. Bluejay sends a look of deep scorn his way before marching off to her own car.

ROB: Bristol?

The Range Rover has finally sunk. The road has settled back into a hard, permanent surface. It isn’t like Rob to offer me a ride home, and I feel overwhelmingly like I should take him up on it. But there are too many questions unanswered, too many unchallenged mysteries weaved into the fabric of this journey. Going back now wouldn’t be a return, it would be a retreat.

AS: I’m still going.

A few minutes later, the three remaining cars roll down the dirt track. Leaving another incomprehensible atrocity behind us. There’s a part of me that can’t believe I’m still continuing down this road, a greater part of me is astonished that no one took the opportunity to turn back.

As Rob carries me on to the next turn, and the one after that, I realise we all have our reasons. I’d become obsessed with chasing the truth, as had Bluejay in her way. Bonnie had her own, unsettling motives for carrying on, and Clyde wasn’t about to abandon her. Lilith had directed her smouldering anger and grief toward the road itself, seeking deliverance at its end. And Rob? As far as he’s concerned, there’s only one direction to go.

Still, when I think of the sorrows that have already befallen us, and the potential for unspeakable ruin that lies ahead, I realise that no one in their right mind would continue down this road.

I suppose no one is.

[sending-the-message]

Has anyone heard of the Left/Right Game? (Part 5) by NeonTempo

Hi Guys,

It’s been a long week, but I’ve finally got to my computer to post the next log. I’ve been working overtime to afford both London rent and Christmas presents. Hasn’t been fun. Anyway I can’t say much more since this log’s one of the longer ones. I’ll try and get the next one up a little sooner.

Thanks for all your help.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

The Left/Right Game [DRAFT 1] 11/02/2017

The next morning, everything’s the same.

It’s strange. We’re usually so blind the quiet consistency in our everyday lives, only really taking notice once something changes. Yet, as I stir a spiral of honey into my oatmeal and glance around the group, it’s the notable lack of change that truly stands out.

Since the previous evening, the atmosphere surrounding the convoy, and the demeanour of each member, doesn’t seem to have altered in the slightest. The night has fallen short in its role as a grand meridian, failing to partition the past and future, and bringing with it neither perspective nor closure. It’s as if yesterday has spilled, like a toppled brush pot, into the next morning, colouring everything with the same temperaments, fears and divisions.

Lilith and Eve sit facing each other, their legs crossed on a plastic groundsheet. Neither are saying very much, albeit for vastly different reasons. Lilith is still preoccupied by her own smouldering indignation, whereas Eve looks overcome with a subtle but pervasive dread. Neither have taken food from Rob’s stove, a decision I suspect Lilith made for the both of them.

Apollo, Bonnie and Clyde are across from me. Apollo is making conversation, attempting to revive his usual good humour. Bonnie and Clyde help him out, laughing at his jokes, and smiling along with his stories.

Bluejay hasn’t stepped out of her car all morning, eating her own rations and maintaining a welcome distance from the rest of the group. Her eyes meet mine as I look her way, and I’m treated to a sharp, sardonic dismissal.

And Rob? Rob is attending to the practicalities of the road; serving breakfast, then topping up the Wrangler from one of the hulking jerry cans. It’s clear the routine is comforting to him. I can easily imagine this is how he deals with a great many problems. Compartmentalising. Recasting himself as a blunt instrument engaged in a set of necessary processes. He’s made himself too busy for grief, and will likely remain so until the feeling fades.

As coping mechanisms go, it isn’t remotely healthy. I should know. I’m doing pretty much the exact same thing.

AS: Clyde, could I get a few words?

Clyde looks up from his food, a little surprised.

CLYDE: You want me?

AS: Hah, yeah… if that’s not too much trouble.

CLYDE: Oh no no, no trouble at all. You want to do it now? I’m not too hungry.

AS: No me neither. That would be great thank you. Would you mind if we moved away from the stove?

Clyde nods keenly. Putting my bowl to one side, I take Clyde to the edge of the apple grove. Nobody looks after us.

CLYDE: How are you holding up Bristol?

AS: Getting there. How about you?

CLYDE: I’m uhh… yeah I’m getting by.

AS: So can I ask… why did you choose Bonnie and Clyde as your call signs?

CLYDE: Hah well it came pretty easy. We used to play outlaws when we were kids, one time Bonnie stuck up a bank.

AS: Really?

CLYDE: Well, no it was an ice cream parlour. But Bonnie was pretending it was a bank and then she ran in, holding her hand like a gun. Told Mrs Gilford it was a stick-up.

AS: Wow, that doesn’t seem like her.

CLYDE: Oh no she was a wild child. Always living in a story. Anyway, we got free sundaes and a new nickname in town after that. When Rob told us about the call signs it was the first thing we thought of.

AS: It’s a good choice.

I pause, letting the previous subject fade before launching into the next one. All things considered, this may be the last time me and Clyde are on such casual speaking terms.

AS: Bonnie told me she talked to the hitchhiker.

Clyde’s disposition shifts. There’s sudden alertness that wasn’t there before, rushing to the fore in immediate response to my words. In the following silence, at the centre of his wide eyed stare, an educated guess suddenly becomes much more.

CLYDE: Wh.. when did she tell you?

AS: I’m sorry Clyde… she didn’t. You just did.

I can almost see the stone fall in Clyde’s throat. The deep, burning embarrassment and hurt that comes from being deceived, from a close secret you held getting out into the world. I don’t feel exceptional either. Lying to Clyde, bringing him away from Bonnie under the guise of an interview… beyond the personal abhorrence, it also flies in the face of everything I’ve tried to be as a journalist.

Clyde can’t bring himself to talk, so I press forward.

AS: I think it might be best if you call Bonnie over here.

Nodding vaguely, Clyde wordlessly shuffles back to Bonnie, whispering in her ear. She puts a hand on his shoulder and helps herself up. Whatever he’s told her, she doesn’t seem angry as she joins us beneath the shade of the apple trees.

BONNIE: I didn’t want to cause any trouble, a… and Clyde’s been looking forward to this trip for so long I didn’t want us to turn back. I’m sorry.

AS: What happened Bonnie?

BONNIE: I just said two words. I wasn’t talking to him; I was doing what Rob said but then he… I just said “Bless you.” That’s all it was.

AS: That’s it?

BONNIE: Well I… he thanked me and then he was just… so easy to talk to and I thought, “Well I’ve already talked to him, what will a few more words do?”

CLYDE: She hardly said anything else.

AS: What about him? Did he say anything?

Bonnie starts to smile, the same way she did last night. A dreamy, enthused expression glowing with reminiscent joy.

BONNIE: He told me about this wonderful place. Wasn’t it wonderful Martin?

CLYDE: Bonnie-

BONNIE: Just a few houses by the sea, but he made it sound so nice.

CLYDE: Bonnie, please…

BONNIE: What’s wrong? I can talk about it right?

When I look back to Clyde, his lips are firmly pressed together, his facial muscles tight. He’s holding something back, but what slips through betrays a poignant dismay.

CLYDE: It’s all you talk about Bonnie. You… you mentioned it a few times after… and since Jubilation you ain’t stopped.

AS: Are you guys talking about Wintery Bay?

Clyde grimaces, and Bonnie grins, when they hear the name.

AS: Bonnie are we heading there?

BONNIE: The hitchhiker said it’s on our way. I’m so looking forward to seeing it.

I can’t say I feel the same, and it’s safe to say Clyde agrees with me. Before now, I’d only heard Bonnie mention Wintery Bay on two occasions, but it sounds like she’s talked about it a whole lot more. I sympathise with Clyde for what he’s had to deal with. However, the gross irresponsibility of his actions aren’t lost on me either.

AS: Does Rob know?

CLYDE: I didn’t want to-

AS: You didn’t want to trouble him? Or did you just not want him to turn you around?

BONNIE: I’m alright, really.

AS: Well either way, you need to tell Rob before we hit the road.

Clyde shuffles uncomfortably.

AS: I’m not going to do it for you. But too much has happened on this trip already. Ace is… this place is dangerous ok? There’s no place for lies any more.

I hope that Clyde doesn’t see the irony, given that I’ve roundly deceived him in the past five minutes. He nods, takes Bonnie’s hand, and walks slowly towards the Wrangler. Rob is loading the last of the fold up chairs into the back of the car. The conversation doesn’t last long, but by the end of it, Rob rests his hand on Bonnie’s shoulder and sends them on their way. He doesn’t look mad. Perhaps he just has other things on his mind.

That’s the second thing I’ve done today that’s inherently non-journalistic. I was supposed to be a fly on the wall for this story, a passenger, recording events with objective detachment without my own influence seeping into proceedings. In many ways I wish I still was. But the stakes are higher now, and though secrets make for good editorial, they’re also potentially damaging to the safety of the group. Following the incident with Ace, I’m slightly less concerned with an unbiased story than I am with getting home to tell it.

Rob looks like he’s about to make his morning address. The group wanders over, some more reluctantly than others, and gathers around the Wrangler.

ROB: First things first, I want to say that… well… tempers got a little heated last night, and that I’m sorry for my part in all that. I wanna thank you for coming with me this far, and if you wanna turn back, well that’s just fine.

The group stays quiet.

ROB: If you are headin’ back. I’d say if you travel one by one, be sure to stay on the radios, retrace the route and follow all the rules that applied when you were gettin’ here. Now can I get a show of hands, who’s wantin’ to keep goin’ on the road?

I observe my compatriots closely. The definites will be Bonnie & Clyde, who have already implied that they want to continue, and also Bluejay, who feels she has nothing to worry about from the road. Apollo is in the wind, and Lilith & Eve are probably a split vote. All in all, this could be the moment our convoy splits in half.

Bluejay throws her hand up lazily. Bonnie and Clyde, predictably, raise theirs. Apollo raises his a few moments later.

APOLLO: Hey, I’ve come this far.

That leaves Lilith and Eve. After sharing a brief glance with her friend, Lilith raises her hand and Eve follows suit, albeit with an air of trepidation.

I’m surprised that no one’s turning back, after everything that happened yesterday, but it’s clear everyone has their own reasons. I’m just glad I don’t have to say goodbye to anyone. I set about trying to divine everyone’s motives for continuing on the road, but I quickly stop when I realise everyone’s looking at me.

AS: Oh sorry. Yeah I’m in... I’m going… that way.

I gesture to the road ahead and raise my hand redundantly.

ROB: Well ok. I guess that’s everyone then. We got a fair way to travel today but there ain’t much to see. Just follow the rules and take things as they come I guess.

As we pull out, I start to feel a little restless. The sedentary nature of travel is beginning to take its toll, and I’m starting to feel overfamiliar with the Wrangler’s passenger seat. I’m glad that I got a chance to stretch my legs last night.

Rolling, Elysian corn fields span the roadside for the next five hours. Turns are few and far between, but Rob’s attention never wavers. I only manage to grasp his attention briefly.

AS: Aren’t Jeeps supposed to have poor fuel economy?

ROB: They ain’t the best. That’s why I always bring gas along.

AS: It’s just… the fuel gauge has hardly moved since we left this morning.

ROB: Haha. You noticed that huh? I was wonderin’ if you were gunna.

AS: Why, what have you done to it?

ROB: Nuthin’. It’s the road. Makes fuel burn slower.

AS: Seriously?

ROB: Ain’t just that either. You finish your food this mornin’?

AS: No… why?

ROB: Hardly anyone did, ‘cept Apollo. More you go, less you need to keep goin’.

AS: Ok… wait you said the road pushes against you.

ROB: Yep.

AS: But now you’re making it sound like it’s helping us along.

ROB: Yep.

AS: So it’s hostile whilst also incentivising us? That sounds odd to me.

ROB: Sounds like life to me. Reasons to stop, reasons to keep goin’.

I suppose that makes sense. Despite his well-documented obsession with the secrets of the road, Rob seems to have a strangely laissez faire attitude to its internal logic. It’s like the road doesn’t need to make perfect sense to him, or at least he doesn’t expect it to yet.

As the fresh rural air drifts in through the windows, I lose myself in the hypnotic endlessness of the passing fields. I wonder how many eyes have seen these vistas. I wonder where we are, not geographically, but in a grander sense. Are we still in the world as I know it? Are we beyond it? Below it? Or have we just slipped through the cracks, into some intermediate domain?

Rob slows the car down to a crawl, a precaution he takes before most corners. My eyes wander gently back into the Wrangler, finally resting on the rear view.

There’s something behind us. A humanoid figure, shrouded in the soft focus of considerable distance. It staggers quickly toward the convoy, unsure on its own feet.

AS: Rob what is that?

Rob follows my gaze to the rear view mirror. His brow furrows.

ROB: Somethin’ new.

Rob grabs the receiver. Before he can make an announcement, the speaker splutters with static, followed by Eve’s frantic voice.

EVE: Guys there’s something behind us... guys? Something’s coming after us. Bluejay can you see it?

Bluejay doesn’t answer. I doubt she considers it worth her time. A squealing panic rings out over the radio as Eve calls again.

EVE: Is it from Jubilation? Guys? Guys?!

ROB: Stay calm everyone. Let’s pick up the pace a little.

Rob lets his foot rest heavier on the gas. The Wrangler gently accelerates, with the rest of the convoy eagerly matching our speed.

APOLLO: Who is that Rob?

ROB: I ain’t so sure, but we got a turn coming up. Let’s just get ourselves off the road, see if he follows.

The figure continues to stumble towards us. Its arms hang crookedly in the air and, as it comes into sharper focus, I can just make out that there’s something wrong with its face.

EVE: Guys speed up, please. Please.

LILITH: Calm down.

EVE: It’s coming for us!

I can sympathise with Eve’s panic. I’ve had the luxury of travelling at the head of the convoy. I was the first across when that godforsaken pine was dropped across the road. Eve is now second to last, relying on three other cars to make their escape before she can follow. Ace had to wait for the rest of us, and it cost him everything. Now Eve & Lilith are one car closer to being where he was.

EVE: It’s face. Oh my god! Oh my god. Guys please!

BLUEJAY: Jesus, shut up!

APOLLO: Hey that is NOT helping. Rob it’s movin’ pretty fast we-

ROB: We stay the course. It ain’t caught up yet just-

EVE: Oh god. Oh god, oh GOD!

Rob’s warnings are cut short by the screeching of tires. Eve swerves out of the convoy’s neat, single file line, and onto the empty stretch of road beside us. The car accelerates past Bonnie & Clyde. Past Apollo.

I get a brief glimpse of Eve & Lilith as our windows align.

Lilith is yelling at Eve, trying to get her to calm down. Eve is screaming into the air, the puppet of her own frenetic terror. The car shoots past us and down the long road ahead. Rob swears and picks up the radio.

The figure continues to lurch towards us.

ROB: Ferryman to Eve & Lilith. Stop the car right now.

LILITH: Eve slow down!

ROB: Eve goddamnit you’re gonna-

I stare through the windshield as their car stops. Not a slow, grinding deceleration, but an unequivocal, immediate halt. Their bodies are thrown forwards against the safety glass as the car becomes utterly motionless.

AS: Rob what’s happening?

ROB: I told’em to be careful!

AS: Why what’s-

I no longer need an answer. I realise that it’s written right in front of me, etched into the side of the road. A brief gap in the endless rows of golden corn, only a little wider than the Wrangler itself. A dirt track the leads off to the left, about ten metres ahead of us, about fifteen metres behind Lilith & Eve. I now understand why Rob was being so careful, and why Eve should have been as well.

They’ve missed the next turn.

ROB: Ferryman to all cars. I’ve found the turn, let’s make it quick. Eve and Lilith you stay in the car. I’m coming back to get you both.

Rob flicks on his turn signal, preparing the group for the sharp left corner, and slams his foot on the accelerator. Lilith and Eve disappear behind a wall of corn as we pull down the dirt track. Rob keeps driving, until enough space is left for the rest of the group.

Once they’re all safely pulled in, Rob climbs into the back of the car, grabs his rifle and jumps out onto the path. I quickly climb out and follow behind him.

When we arrive on the main road, the figure has covered a considerable distance, finally drawing near enough for me to see what’s wrong with its face. At a certain point, midway across the crown of the head, running in a straight line down past the cheeks and under the jaw, the head simply stops. It’s like the foremost section of his skull has been sliced cleanly off, and has bent inwards, his entire face concave and shrouded completely in a deep shadow. A ghastly, organic hood, that seems deeper than physics should allow.

That isn’t all that’s wrong with the picture however. The man’s outstretched arms are bent in several places. Dark purple contusions blossom at every unnatural joint as if his arms had been broken multiple times. His leg is also bent to one side, the reason for the irregular walk that still carries him towards us.

Rob looks shaken as he raises the rifle to his shoulder, bidding the figure turn around.

The man ignores Rob’s demand, continuing its march. Even when a bullet hits it square in the chest, the figure hardly slows down. We’re forced to jump out of the way as it continues down the road, Eve and Lilith cowering in their locked car as it approaches.

Fear shifts into confusion as the creature passes them by, and continues down the road. It’s as if it doesn’t even know we’re here.

Rob breathes a sigh of relief, lowers the gun, and runs back to the rest of the convoy. The moment he leaves, my mind notes something peculiar. It’s an utterly bizarre observation, especially considering the many otherworldly facets of the retreating creature, there’s something familiar about it. Specifically, its fashion sense.

The shirt, the dirt covered jeans. They aren’t dissimilar to the ones I found in the brown leather duffel bag, resting atop the block of C4.

Reaching into my pocket, pulling out my phone, I scroll through my list of contacts. As the man heaves himself down the road, I call the second number I discovered last night. The one in the Nokia’s received calls list. The number that likely belonged to whoever created the bomb, and whoever was driving the car that day.

After a few moments, a ringtone disrupts the creature’s silent walk. I end the call, realising how reckless I’ve been and praying that the strange figure doesn’t see my action as an excuse to turn around.

I’m lucky, this time at least. The dial tone cuts out, and the figure continues to stumble its way toward the horizon.

The next thing I hear is a scream.

Scanning for its source, I see Eve, her door open and with one foot out of the car. She’s frantically pulling at her leg, seemingly unable to lift it from the tarmac.

AS: Eve what’s going on?

With shaking fingers, Eve clumsily unties her shoelace, and lifts her leg back into the car. Her boot stays in place, and it’s possible to make out a slight elasticity to the road below it, a depression in the tarmac around its base. Slowly, and steadily, the sole of the boot disappears into the road. Eve watches as the dark tarmac slowly sucks the boot down, enveloping the heel and dragging it beneath the surface.

The thought comes to Eve the same moment it does to me. We both fix our eyes on the back of the car, where same, soft indent is gradually developing around the tyres.

Eve’s terrified scream is drowned out by the blare of revving engines. I jump out of the way as the rest of the convoy reverse out of the corner and back onto the main road. Bluejay, Bonnie & Clyde, Apollo and finally Rob, park themselves chaotically around me. Rob jumps out and approaches.

ROB: They ain’t pulled back yet?

As soon as he asks the question, he sees the sight before him. Only the neck of Eve’s boot remains above the ground, sinking ever further into the tarmac. The road gradually but voraciously churns at the car tyres, consuming the rubber, and swallowing the lowest edge of the wheel cover.

In the midst of such an impossible sight, all I can say to Rob is:

AS: They’re trying.

Lilith & Eve hit the gas hard. The engine growls at the road as it furiously attempts to reverse, the undercarriage creaking and groaning from the sheer mechanical strain. The wheels themselves, however, don’t rotate an inch. The tyres belong to the road now, taken by the unknowable forces that continue to drag them into the earth.

The engine chokes, defeated, and I can see Eve screaming into her fists as the roadway calmly continues its work.

ROB: Goddamn it we can’t reach’em. Tell’em to get on top of the car.

APOLLO: What the… What’s happening Rob?

ROB: Bristol! Tell’em to get on the roof!

Rob marches off to the Wrangler. The rest of the convoy gather on the road, just in line with the left turn, where we assume it’s safe to stand. Everyone, saving for Bluejay, looks on in anxious silence.

AS: Eve! Lilith! I need you to get on top of the car ok? Guys?

EVE: We’re sinking! Oh fuck… oh fuck we’re-

AS: Eve! I’m trying to help you. Rob’s working on something, but you need to climb onto the roof of the car. Don’t think about anything else. Open the door, wind down your window and use it as a foothold.

Eve is still deaf with worry. Lilith doesn’t hesitate. She places one hand on the upper rim of her open door, one foot on the base of the open window, and her free hand palm down on the car’s roof. The door rocks on its hinges as she puts her weight on it. In one strong motion, she pushes herself backwards until she’s sitting atop the car.

The tarmac has swallowed its way to the car’s lower chassis. Eve stares, transfixed by the road as it pulls her ever closer towards it.

LILITH: Sarah look at me!

Lilith is crouching on the car’s roof, her hand reaching down to Eve. Her friends voice seems to be the only thing that can break Eve’s fearful commune with the waiting abyss. She turns around, Lilith’s hand a few inches from her face.

LILITH: Get up here.

Her eyes brimming with tears, fought back by rapid, shallow breaths, Eve grabs Lilith’s hand. Lilith gets a solid handhold around the lip of her own doorway and heaves Eve up and onto the roof of the car. Eve shrieks a little as the door swings, putting all her trust into Lilith’s grip.

She joins her friend on the roof just as the road consumes the lower edge of the door, spilling inside the car’s cabin like magma.

ROB: Damnit they’re too far away.

Rob has returned from the Wrangler, rapidly uncoiling a braid of long, light blue climber’s rope. I’d seen it resting in the back of the car during the trip, never once thinking that I’d see it used.

Rob threads one end of the rope through a carabiner and secures it in place with a tight knot. He holds it to his side as he shouts to Lilith & Eve.

ROB: Ok listen, we only got one shot at this. I’m gonna throw you the hook and you’re gonna catch it and yank it taut ok? Then you can hook it onto somethin’ and climb your way over. Don’t let it fall. Ok?

Lilith looks pale. She nods before clambering to her feet, and stepping to the back of the car. Eve watches on, her hands wrapped around her legs.

ROB: Well, here goes nothin’.

Rob begins to swing the rope over his head, a large undulating circle that quickly levels out as the weight of the carabiner eases the rope onto a flat plane. I instinctively shrug down as the rope passes over my head, swinging faster and faster. Gritting his teeth, his face reddening with the towering pressure of this single throw, Rob lets the rope fly. It arcs in the air, like a cast fishing line, towards the Lilith’s outstretched hands.

I watch it pass in front of her, the metal of the carabiner glinting in the sun as it falls.

She catches it, grasping the rope in her shaking hands.

Despite her victory, I see her face contort with sudden and striking panic. She holds the rope high over her head, staring wildly down at the road between us. Following her eyes, my heart falls. She caught the rope, but she didn’t pull it taut fast enough.

Even with Rob continuing to hold his end above his head, the rope had too much slack when it landed in Lilith’s hands. It’s fallen in a sloping arc, the lowest point of which has scraped against the tarmac. It only rests a few precious seconds before Lilith finds herself unable to pull it free. It sinks into the ground. The rope starts to brush gently against Rob’s fingers before he throws it to the ground.

ROB: Goddamnit! Ok… if I just got somethin’ else. Somethin’ we can put down.

AS: The empty jerry cans? They could step on-

ROB: Too unstable, and we’d have to throw them perfect. Ok… ok.

The road has claimed almost half the car now, eating up the licence plate as the vehicle sinks lower and lower. Lilith looks helplessly on as we deliberate, Eve crying her eyes out behind her.

CLYDE: We could get a ground sheet.

ROB: We ain’t got one that’ll stretch.

AS: Well what about-

APOLLO: I’m going out there.

Apollo’s blank statement catches us all by surprise. Turning in his direction, I note a direct and powerful confidence in his manner.

APOLLO: They aren’t gonna last much longer. It takes a second for the road to get you, that’s how they got so far ahead before they stopped. I drive out, they jump onto my car, then we climb back.

ROB: I ain’t got more rope.

APOLLO: You got the winch right? If I drive out with it bunched up on my lap I can make sure it never goes slack. Then I hook it up to my roof bars and we get the hell outta dodge.

ROB: You got the best car for it. But I should drive out there.

APOLLO: You need to work the winch. Bonnie & Clyde can’t climb back.

He skips over his rationale for not choosing Bluejay, not wanting to waste time on a foregone conclusion.

AS: What about me? I’m lighter, the climb back would be easier.

APOLLO: But you can’t help them when they’re jumping over. We’re wasting time you know it’s a good idea.

Rob takes a moment to consider it, his mind fighting for a better solution.

ROB: You’d better get back here Apollo.

APOLLO: Don’t plan on hanging around there Rob.

Apollo grins before sprinting to his Rover. Rob, wasting no time, runs to the winch, switches it to manual, and unspools the heavy duty rope. His hands cross over as he drops each new length onto the ground.

I turn back to Lilith.

AS: Did you hear that Lilith?!

Lilith is huddled next to Eve, attempting to comfort her as the car’s headlights disappear into the depths of the road. Her head snaps round when I call.

LILITH: What’s… what’s happening?

AS: Apollo’s coming out to you. You have to jump onto his car and climb back over ok?

LILITH: … Ok!

She hurries back to Eve, grasping her friend’s shoulders as she relays the plan.

ROB: Ok that’ll hold.

Rob’s climbing down from the hood of the Wrangler. He’s fed the winch cable around and through the lighting rig, ensuring a good level of clearance on the way out and, more importantly, for the climb back. The rope has already been fed through Apollo’s driver’s side window.

Bonnie and Clyde are helping to throw Apollos’ baggage out of the trunk and onto the rode behind him. The less he has to lose on this trip the better.

ROB: All set up over here.

APOLLO: Ok. See you on the other side Rob.

Apollo slams his foot onto the accelerator. The Range Rover bolts forwards, and powers toward the threshold. The engine roars as he rockets past the left turn and keeps on going, into the territory beyond. In the few precious seconds he has, he crosses the distance towards the two terrified girls. The winch rope streams through the window, and then suddenly, pulls tight.

Apollo is thrown forwards as the car comes to an uncompromising stop, roughly a metre’s distance from Lilith & Eve. The impact looks brutal, but Apollo somehow manages to keep a hold on the rope and, inexplicably, his sense of humour.

APOLLO: I don’t think I got the insurance for this.

Clumsily, still feeling the aftereffects of the sudden stop, Apollo throws open his door and starts to climb out.

APOLLO: Take in the slack Rob!

My attention fixed on Apollo, I hear the mechanical whir as the winch kicks into life. As Apollo climbs out of his car and up onto the roof, he affixes the hook at the end of the winch to one of his roof bars, securing it in place. A few moments later, the rope is pulled straight.

Apollo steps down onto the hood of his car, his arms outstretched to the girls. It’s a short jump, but they’ll have to make it from a lower elevation, the trunk of the car already sinking to ground level.

APOLLO: Ok come on I got you, we’ve got to move fast now.

Lilith stands up, helping Eve to her feet before stepping down onto the rapidly disappearing trunk.

LILITH: Ok… ok…

Lilith yelps as he throws herself towards Apollo. Her front foot plants itself on the hood of the car, her other leg flailing in the air behind her. Apollo grabs her by the arms and yanks her onto the car, holding her close to him as she gets her bearing on the smooth metal of the hood. When she’s stable, he lets her crawl up onto the roof, where she immediately looks back to Eve.

APOLLO: See Eve, nothin’ to it. Come on now.

Eve paces back, her hands shaking as she contemplates the jump. Fighting against her screaming instincts, Eve squeals as she steps across the trunk and makes the leap across. The toe of her shoe lifting off the car mere seconds before it descends into the murky, black pitch of the road.

Eve lands short of her destination. One desperate, grasping arm makes contact with Apollo’s as her legs bang and scrape against the Rover’s grill, scrambling for any conceivable purchase. Apollo is wrenched sideways by the force of Eve’s landing, thrown off balance by the unexpected application of her whole weight. In the gut churning moments that follow, Apollo tugs Eve up to his chest and wraps an arm around her, his centre of gravity passing over the edge of the car.

The fall takes a lifetime. Wrapped in each other’s arms, Eve and Apollo tumble forward towards the patient, ravenous ground. In the split second before he leaves the hood of the car, Apollo uses his last inch of footing to push himself into a slow turn. The twist continues as they fall, until Eve is looking to the road, Apollo to the pale blue sky. In one final action, Apollo pushes Eve’s waist, holding her at arms length.

Apollo’s back thuds into the asphalt, his head smacking audibly against it. Dazed and concussed, he manages to hold Eve aloft, keeping everything but her feet from joining him on the hard ground.

APOLLO: Get back up… quickly get back up.

Her face shredded by fear and guilt and sorrow, Eve stares into Apollo’s eyes and whimpers. Collecting herself, she pushes herself off him, ripping out her laces, and leaving a shoe and a sock behind as she clambers back on to the Range Rover. With every movement she whispers a quivering apology.

APOLLO: It’s ok. It’s ok. Go on. It’s ok.

He repeats those two words over and over, until I’m not even sure who he’s talking to. The road elasticates around him, dragging him down into its depths. Eve looks back to him, her face cringing in misery.

Bonnie buries her face in Clyde’s chest, unable to watch the next few moments unfold.

EVE: I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.

APOLLO: It’s… it’s alright. Just get going ok? It doesn’t hurt… it doesn’t hurt, really.

Apollo’s ears sink beneath the road. Entering a new world of perfect silence, Apollo sees the end nearing.

APOLLO: Oh god. Rob! ROB!!

I won’t play his final moments, for your benefit and, ultimately, for his. Before he sinks into the road, Apollo asks for Rob to talk to his family. He wants Rob to tell them that he loves them. Rob nods, knowing that Apollo won’t be able to hear his response.

After a few cries of panicked despair, Apollo’s eyes and mouth are enveloped by the road. His screams are drowned by the thick, churning asphalt.

Eve watches the rest of his body sink, while Lilith tugs at her sleeve, pulling her towards the roof.

LILITH: Come on we’ve got to go. Sarah we’ve got to go!

EVE: I’m sorry.

Whispering one last heartfelt apology to the air itself, Eve steps up with Lilith and stares at the cable.

AS: Ok guys just let yourself down until you’re hanging from the rope and work your way across.

LILITH: I got it! You ready?

Eve looks to her friend.

EVE: I… I don’t…

LILITH: Just watch me ok? Follow right behind me.

The Range Rover’s wheels have now disappeared. With every passing second, the cable’s clearance diminishes, and the angle between the roof bar and the Wrangler’s lighting rig becomes steeper. They need to start moving now or not at all.

Eve looks across the length of the rope. I can feel her mind kicking back at the prospect.

EVE: I can’t.

LILITH: Sarah… we fucking have to ok? Follow behind me.

Lilith wraps her arms around Eve, hugging her stiff, shivering frame, before letting go and crouching down to the rope, slowly working her way under it. Her hands clenching the cable, her legs wrapped securely around it, Lilith starts to pull herself along the rope, shifting her feet up every few seconds behind her. She fixes her eyes on me as she drags herself to the halfway mark.

LILITH: Is she following?!

The asphalt swallows the Range Rover’s lower chassis. Eve hasn’t moved a muscle. The stretch of black tarmac might as well be a bottomless ravine, the Grand Canyon. The idea of hanging herself over it mortifies her.

AS: Sarah! Sarah it’s not as bad as it looks, please! Please come on.

Lilith crosses the threshold. Her knuckles are white as she continues to cling to the rope. Rob marches up to her and helps her down into his arms, coaxing her hands free by telling her that she’s safe.

As soon as her feet hit the ground again, they give way beneath her, and Lilith sinks to the ground crying out.

LILITH: Sarah! Come on please!!

EVE: I can’t! I can’t… I…

LILITH: Please Sarah… I need you here.

Her shallow breaths quaking with anxiety, Eve slowly crouches down and grips the rope. Slowly but surely, as the asphalt consumes the car’s licence plate less than a metre below her, Eve lowers herself down and, with clumsy desperation, drags herself along the rope.

She’s left it late. Her back hangs mere inches from the hungry ground as she shuffles unevenly towards us, lifting her feet and scraping them up the rope, her arms straining to stay locked.

EVE: I’m not going to make it!

LILITH: You are! Keep going!

The Range Rover’s window is now disappearing, inside the dashboard has been submerged. With every yard that Eve manages to climb, the lowering rope ensures she stays close to the ground, even over the final few feet.

My heart breaks the moment her foot slips.

It happens almost too quickly to register. As Eve erratically shuffles her feet along the rope, her bare left foot gives way, swinging underneath her and kicking down onto the ground. Eve tries to raise it in time before discovering that she can’t.

LILITH: No… no no no please.

Thrown entirely off balance, Eve tries to pull herself up. However, with her lower leg seeping into the dark tar, her position can’t be maintained. She falls, her body twisting, as she falls onto the road.

Lilith releases a terrible shrieking cry. Eve whimpers as the side of her head rests against the tarmac, her cheek already subsumed.

EVE: I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

LILITH: No. No. Please don’t be sorry.

EVE: I.. love you. I love y… you Jen.

LILITH: I love you too… I’m sorry I didn’t… I’m so sorry.

Eve tries to reply, but half of her mouth is sealed shut, encased in the creeping asphalt. Her short breaths finally melt into one long inhalation, as her nose and mouth are sunk entirely.

One remaining eye takes a final, fleeting look at Lilith, before vanishing.

I look away from what is still to sink. The important things are already gone.

Lilith collapses on her knees, a screaming of torrent of grief expelled from her burning lungs. Rob is completely immobile, likely searching for something practical in which to bury himself. Bonnie & Clyde simply look lost, as they turn their backs on the sinking Range Rover.

Bluejay’s reaction surprises me. She stares into the tarmac, the smirk ripped from her face, replaced by a familiar look of shellshock. She repeatedly mutters something under her breath, something that sounds like:

“It’s not real… It’s not real.”

We stand in silence for what seems like an age, accompanied by the breeze and Lilith’s gradually waning laments. After she’s exorcised the immediate torment, her screaming descends into a deathly stillness.

Rob makes the first step to approach her.

ROB: I… I can take you back home if you want to-

LILITH: No... No.

Lilith wipes her eyes, as tears continue to fall freely down her cheeks. When she turns around, she looks enraged.

LILITH: No. I’m still going. I’m going to get to the end.

ROB: You know I can’t tell you when that’ll be.

Lilith stands up and glares at Rob, then looks over to Bonnie & Clyde.

LILITH: Are you guys still going? Do you have a seat free?

The siblings look to one another. Bonnie nods.

CLYDE: You got a place with us if you want it.

LILITH: Is the door unlocked?

CLYDE: Uhh yeah.

LILITH: Then what the fuck are we waiting around for?

Lilith marches to Clyde’s Ford and climbs into the back seat. She waits for us impatiently to finish up.

ROB: Anyone else want to turn around?

Rob looks to me and Bluejay. Bluejay sends a look of deep scorn his way before marching off to her own car.

ROB: Bristol?

The Range Rover has finally sunk. The road has settled back into a hard, permanent surface. It isn’t like Rob to offer me a ride home, and I feel overwhelmingly like I should take him up on it. But there are too many questions unanswered, too many unchallenged mysteries weaved into the fabric of this journey. Going back now wouldn’t be a return, it would be a retreat.

AS: I’m still going.

A few minutes later, the three remaining cars roll down the dirt track. Leaving another incomprehensible atrocity behind us. There’s a part of me that can’t believe I’m still continuing down this road, a greater part of me is astonished that no one took the opportunity to turn back.

As Rob carries me on to the next turn, and the one after that, I realise we all have our reasons. I’d become obsessed with chasing the truth, as had Bluejay in her way. Bonnie had her own, unsettling motives for carrying on, and Clyde wasn’t about to abandon her. Lilith had directed her smouldering anger and grief toward the road itself, seeking deliverance at its end. And Rob? As far as he’s concerned, there’s only one direction to go.

Still, when I think of the sorrows that have already befallen us, and the potential for unspeakable ruin that lies ahead, I realise that no one in their right mind would continue down this road.

I suppose no one is.

[angeryboy]

Kintsukuroi

Name-Siren( Himaro Hana)

Quirk- Persuasion

Hair-purple

Eyes-gray

Appearance- sexual af

Personality- more serious type.nice to SHIGGY, he makes you real dumb. A little closed off with everyone else.(I’m not talking to them because they’re not SHIGGY) not mean though.

Garb- BLACK HOODIE, with HUGE hood. Short maroon skirt, combat boots w/knee high socks

About- Your mans SHIGGY

Loves-rice/rice balls

Name- Whirlwind (Yuna Niko)

Quirk- Wind/Oxygen Control

Hair- Blue

Eyes- Golden

Appearance- thicc af

Personality- sarcastic little shit, sweet to her mans sometimes.

Garb- I’m too lazy to type it lol

Loves- hanging out and causing mischief.

Part 1- Meet and Greet

You sat your purse nervously on the ground, not entirely sure what to expect. The meeting room was nice enough, but you were dealing with villains here. No telling what they had in store.

When you’d gotten the call, you almost couldn’t believe it.

“I want you to meet with me,” a surprisingly calm, calculating voice droned on the other end. “Be at the address I send you in thirty minutes.”

You had a feeling you’d just had contact with the League of Villains the second he hung up.

The first one to walk around the corner looked less like a person and more like a purple mist pretending to be someone.

Trailing in after him, a skinny, tall man with a mess of black hair, covered in scars and clasps all over his face and arms,and three little nose piercings glinting in the sunlight, his blue eyes looking bored.

He seemed maybe just a touch dramatic, the same clasps covering his trench coat too. Ever since you’d delved into the theories about the League and it’s members, you assumed this guy was the one people said was second in command.

After him, two girls. One who seemed way too excited to be there, her dirty blonde hair pulled up in pigtails and a school uniform covering her. She was really cute, but her smile was unsettling, to say the least. And was that a knife in her hands?

The other girl had dark blue hair cascading down her back. Her golden eyes bored into you as you squirmed around nervously. She was almost annoyingly pretty, all kinds of straps wrapped around her legs, which were adorned with fishnets and a pair of just a little too tight shorts that accentuated her curves. She did, however, have the cutest choker on that you’d ever seen. She was also very very bored-looking, strolling and standing next to Mr. Dramatic with a lean in her stance.

A man in a black bodysuit followed next, face completely covered by his mask, half grey and half black.

With every entrance, you were growing more nervous. How many of them were there? They looked like such a ragtag group at first glance, but also somehow incredibly intimidating.

Lastly,from around the corner you could see a man even skinnier than the second dressed in all black, his face and arms covered in strange hand apparatuses, his collarbones protruding through his boatneck tee.

His white hair fell carelessly around his obscured face. He looked like maybe he needed a meal and a hug, not nearly as domineering as you recalled from the news segments. The only thing you could think was ‘Mr. Handman’, struggling not to laugh out loud as he stared at you.

You’d heard a lot about him and after watching a few things he’d done, you were anxious to get in contact. Shigaraki took a slow seat on the couch across from you.

“Siren. I’ve heard a lot about you. I hear you’ve been trying to contact me.” You couldn’t tell if he was looking at you or not, sitting up straight now.

“Yes. I-“

“I only have one requirement for joining.”

Your mouth snapped shut at the abrupt interruption.

“Which is..?”

“You have to prove to me why you’re valuable to us. We can’t go around just accepting any old villain. Especially not one with such a short history of supporting our cause.”

All you could muster was a blank stare. How the hell were you supposed to prove yourself in this short meeting?

“This is where you’re supposed to do something,” the black-haired man quipped.

Your breath caught as you tried to speak. They were all just staring, waiting for something. “I-my quirk is persuasion.” You could barely hear yourself.

“Don’t be afraid of this asshole. He’s practically harmless.” The girl with the blue hair smiled, and did well to quell your nerves with that.

He shot her a glare, but didn’t say another word.

“I can make anybody do anything I want.”

“Anything else?” Shigaraki didn’t seem impressed. You were blowing it already?

“Anything...else?” You repeated.

“Just because you have a nice quirk doesn’t mean you’re useful. If someone without a quirk could do a better job, I’ll take them instead. So what else?”

“Tomura, perhaps it’s best if she demonstrates. She’s already attempted to get into contact, so I think we should just give her a chance.” You’d have to remember to thank purple mist man later for that.

“Yeah. If she doesn’t work out, we’ll kick her out! No! We’ll kill her!” The man in the mask interjected suddenly, nearly interrupting himself.

“Please, Siren. Demonstrate for us. You may use me as the target.”

“Well, actually, it would probably be better on someone who doesn’t seem willing to participate. That’d be much more convincing, right?”

Everyone eyed each other for a tense moment before Shigaraki spoke up.

“Fine. You can use it on me.” His hands started scratching at his neck.You looked at him, your grey eyes getting seemingly darker as your quirk activated.

“I need you to get me something.” There was a sudden shift in the room as your newfound confidence flowed through the room, voice much lower and smoother than a minute ago. His hands relaxed, shoulders slacking as you continued.

“What is it?”

“I need you to get me an important little notebook that I left in my apartment. This is the address.” You handed him a slip of paper. Slowly, he took to his feet.

“Kurogiri. Warp me.”

“No,” you commanded. “You’ll walk.” He turned to look at you for a moment before heading out the door. Everyone looked around for a solid minute, wondering when Shigaraki would return.

“Should we...”

“I say we leave him,”the black-haired man shrugged, crossing his arms. The girl standing next to him gave him a swift backhand across his shoulder. “I’ll go get him. That’s good, Siren. You can stop now.”

You looked at her with an awkward smile. “He won’t stop until he’s done.

She pursed her lips for a moment. “Hmm. Then it’s settled. We leave him. On behalf of Shigaraki, welcome to the league. I’m Whirlwind, but you can call me Yuna,” she smiled.

“I’m Twice. But you can call me Jin. No you can’t!” You raised a brow in concern.

“I am Kurogiri.” The mist man bowed.

“I’m Toga!” The blonde girl jumped at you, grabbing your hands. “I’m excited to get to know you!”

Yuna nudged the man next to him before he spoke up. “Name’s Dabi. Just Dabi.”

“Uh, well I’m Himaro Hana. It’s nice to meet you all.”

“I think you’ll fit in well,” Yuna smiled again, this time dragging Dabi with her as she left the room.

“The hell are you takin me for, woman?”

“Because you’re rude and no one wants to be around you.”

“You do.”

“I didn’t say I was smart.” You noticed a small smile on Dabi’s face as he turned the corner.

“They’re cute,” you mentioned.

“Say what you want. Those two are a pain in my ass,” Twice huffed.

———————

After Shigaraki finally came back, he seemed a little more willing to accept the assets you had to offer.

“I see now how useful that can be. But it could also be dangerous. Who’s to say you won’t use it on us to do your bidding?” He asked so calmly it didn’t feel like he was accusing you of anything. You leaned forward in concentration, thinking carefully about how to reply.

“That was just a test run. If I wanted to do something perverse,I’d have just made you all do it right then and there. See, the thing about my quirk is that once I use it on someone, they have to follow through with whatever it is I ask. Even deactivating my quirk can’t stop them. So it’s very important that I think it through before I ask someone to do something. I have to be observant and quick thinking to avoid unnecessary hold-ups. That’s really the only downfall. I can use it on as many people as I want as much as I want. I’d like to say that I’m very powerful. And I want in.”

“Very well.” You couldn’t see the smile, but you could hear it in his voice. “If that’s the case, I need you to do something for me, too.”

For the next week, Shigaraki had you running all kinds of errands for him, some criminal and others, not so much. You weren’t sure what he was getting at. You’d asked the other members what they had to do, but Dabi seemed to be the only one who came to the League rather than have the league come to him, and he didn’t have to say much to join.

“I guess it’s my charm.”

“Your fucking what?” Yuna interrupted. “You are the least charming person here.” His lazy eyes turned to her slowly.

“So you like me for...?”

“Easy. Your insanely good looks.” She shrugged and you stifled a laugh. So far, Yuna was the only one that seemed relatively normal.

After a few days, it became slightly less awkward to be in the hideout, especially if Yuna and Dabi were there. They kept the mood light and entertaining. It was a swift change of pace from Toga’s incessant questions and Shigaraki’s utter detachment from..really everything. Did this guy have an interest in anything? Jin didn’t bother you too much either, and was actually rather pleasant to have around.

————

That Monday, a meeting was called.

“Everyone, I’m going on a mission. When I get back, I’ll have some news for you.” Shigaraki donned a black hoodie before gently setting his hand apparatus on the bar, back turned to you. With that, he left through Kurogiri’s warp gate and didn’t return for several hours.

It was a little awkward to sit in the small room. Kurogiri and Twice had their eyes glued to the news, and Toga once again seemed way too intent on getting to know you.

“So what-“

“Toga, I’m going to stop you right there.” Your hand waved around.

“I’d like to just watch the news,” you smiled a bit, hoping it would encourage her to shut the hell up. She huffed, but obliged.

A few seconds after what was the first moment of silence since you got here, there was a humongous, loud boom from the kitchen.

“Agh! You half-baked asshole!” Yuna shouted from the other room. “I swear to god I will blast you so high into the sky the sun kills you!”

“I didn’t mean to. And that doesn’t even make sense,” Dabi mentioned flatly. You chuckled a bit, imagining the stoic look on Dabi’s face.

“You didn’t mean to make the flames so intense that the pot exploded? Into my face?”

“I mean, maybe you deserved it.”

“Fuck you! Get a job! Who raised you?You-you beautiful bastard! I’m gonna make a tornado and send you to a different continent with it!”

“You know who raised me.”

“It’s- you’re not supposed to say anything.” Yuna’s exasperated tone was still light-hearted.

“Are they dating?” You asked, eyes never leaving the TV. You’d been wondering since you joined a week ago, but never figured it was the right time to ask.

“Yeah. They’re always like that. Don’t let them fool you though. They’re super in love.” Toga answered cheerfully.

“No we’re not!” Yuna called. “I hate this man!”

Finally, Shigaraki returned, and for the first time since you got here, he wasn’t wearing any hands and you could see his face. Which meant you could finally see his eyes. Bright red like rubies, and a small smile gracing his lips. Now you understood why he kept his face covered. Well, not you personally. There was a silent charm to his awkward, quiet personality.

Actually, he was...kind of cute.

You shook the thought from your head as your face flushed.

Come on, Himaro. That’s your boss! Get it together!

“Yuna, Dabi, get in here. I have something to go over.”

“Dabi owes me new eyebrows,” she scowled, definitely missing half of one.

“I like that look on you. It makes you look kinda stupid.” His lopsided smile was indeed charming. Yuna just continued to scowl as Shigaraki returned to his normal clothing.

“The UA training camp has a location now. We need to put together a plan for getting him.”

“Who’s him?” You blurted.

“Himaro, you’ll be sitting this one out. I have plans for you now, and when we get back.”

That made you a little excited. Were you finally going to see some action? You’d been raring to go for quite some time now, having dropped off the map weeks before you showed up at the hideout.

“Here’s the location for the camp. We’re going to need recruits. That’s where you come in, Himaro. This is a list of all the backup I want in this mission. I want you to find them and if they say no, persuade them. I’m counting on you.”