#probably contributed to how we got here y’know?

[take-taker-taken]

Part two is ready, so here we go!

WARNING - the chapters that comprise this ‘item’ in The List will contain CNC (consensual non-consent). It will mention rape. There will be humiliation. It will involve weapons - this particular part is mostly knife play. The sub will not always be treated / spoken to kindly. If you’re happy to read such things then feel free to continue.

As ever, please read the notes at the end.

The List - CNC - Part Two

You don’t know how long you’ve been in the back of the truck; it’s stopped and started a few times, probably at lights but you’ve absolutely no idea where you might be. You’ve closed your eyes - no point having them open with the material over your face - and you’re surprised at all the small sounds your ears are picking up. At one point, you think you hear Shawn’s voice but then some music comes on and drowns it out.

The covering over your head is really starting to irritate you and so you begin to rub the side of your head against the blanket, wondering if you can work it loose. After a minute or so however you give up, because it seems like it’s held in place around your neck by a drawstring, which would explain why Shawn had been able to tighten it so quickly. Your mind turns to your destination and you try to guess where they might be taking you. It seems doubtful that he’s merely taking you to his house - they’re too good at this and probably won’t want you anywhere that’s familiar. Certainly not to a hotel… not to any place with near neighbours, really. You pull against your bindings but they’re not shifting. You try working your ankles in small movements and it does seem to loosen off a little, but it’s not going to contribute to any escape attempt.

The truck slows, turns and then you’re bounced around a little as it drives over uneven ground at low speed. Your heart rate instantly picks up again because it’s clear that the next part of this scene is coming up. You wonder whether Mark is waiting because you’ve not had any evidence that he’s here with Shawn in the truck and he definitely wasn’t around in the house. The cab door opens and slams shut and then the darkness of the truck bed is removed as he rolls back the cover. You lay completely still and silent and for a few moments nothing at all happens and then you scream in shock as you’re grabbed and pulled along, the blankets easing the way and then Shawn is manhandling you up on to his shoulder again and you squeak some more.

“Knew I should have put a fucking gag on you,” he comments as he settles you on his shoulder - a more difficult task this time due to your tied position. “You move and I’ll let you fall and just drag you through the dirt.” He turns around and begins to walk as he adds, “Maybe I should do that anyway - it’s where whores like you belong.”

“Not a whore,” You’re breathing hard again and words are an effort.

“Yeah, well… we’ll see about that.” He turns abruptly, making you fear for the safety of your head, and you hear a door open - the sound of a basic latch and then his boots walking across a wooden floor. The smell of timber surrounds you and so you figure you must be in some kind of cabin. Your thoughts are interrupted as Shawn starts to lower you down before he lets go and you drop the last foot or so to the floor.

“Got a live one?”

It’s Mark.

“Oh, yeah… walked right in and back out, easy as anything.”

“She give you any trouble?” You hear his heavy footfall across the floor, getting louder as he approaches until the wooden boards beneath you shake slightly.

“Nothin’ that a couple threats didn’t quiet down. All the usual, y’know.. ‘I can give you money’, ‘you don’t have to do this’ stuff.” You’re prodded with a foot and you assume it’s Shawn as he goes on, “Hey, you’ll never guess what she said when I took her out of the truck…” He breaks out into a giggle. “She said… she said, ‘I’m not a whore!’”

Mark laughs and then he’s crouching down and working the knots that bind your legs to your wrists and you can’t help feeling some relief as the discomfort of the tie leaves you. He unwinds the rope from your ankles and then hauls you to your feet.

“She ain’t saying much now,” He comments, keeping a strong grip on the back of your neck. You try to imagine what expression he’s wearing and make a half-hearted attempt to shake free of his hold. To your surprise he lets go and then you’re just stood there between the two of them, still with the damn bag over your head and your hands tied behind your back. There’s a few seconds silence and then he speaks to you. “Well? Now what you gonna do?”

You’re at a complete loss because well - what can you do? Unsure of their exact positions, you turn your head slightly to the left and right in a bid to address them both.

“I… let me go? Please?”

“Ohh, I like the way she says ‘please’,” That’s Shawn again and it seems he’s on your right. “Let’s get her to say that some more.”

You squeak as Mark takes hold of your neck again and then the drawstring is loosened and he pulls the covering from your head. The cool air is welcome and of course it means that you finally get to see them. They’re both in jeans and t-shirts; the sleeves have been cut off Mark’s and he’s got his hair tied back with a black bandana covering the top of his head. Shawn’s hair hangs loose and he’s wearing a heavy silver chain around his neck. You don’t know how they’re doing it but they’re both exuding an air of being complete strangers to you.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Mark says. “We need some entertainment… and you’re it.” He looks across at Shawn and adds, “Shall we?”

“Wh… what do you mean?” You look from one to the other of them as you take a small step back. You don’t get an answer - Shawn just steps behind you and takes hold of your upper arms, causing you instinctively to struggle. You cry out as he laughs and then bites your neck yet again - higher up this time. “Stop, please!”

Shawn just huffs out a laugh and licks across your skin. “Stop? We’re just getting started.”

Mark has crossed to a table under the window and seems to be contemplating something. Your breath catches when he turns around with a hunting knife in his hand. Shawn tightens his grip when he feels you tense up and as Mark starts to slowly walk back over you plant your feet and try to shove back but you’re no match for Shawn’s strength, even as you wrench yourself left and right to try and escape. Mark’s left hand shoots out and he grabs your neck.

“Moving around all over the place when I’m holding this near you?” He says, lifting the knife up so that it’s right in front of your face. “Bad idea.” He holds it so that the tip is pointing directly at you and then grabs your hair to keep your head still. He draws the tip down your neck and you let out a high-pitched whine but don’t dare to speak. “You have any idea how sharp this is?” He continues, turning the blade so that it’s at perfect throat-slitting angle. Your eyes are fixed on his face, wide with fear as the cool metal presses into your skin. “It’d made a real clean cut… you probably wouldn’t even feel it open you up.” Another whimper escapes your lips and he looks at you as he takes it away from your neck. “So with that in mind, don’t you move a single fucking muscle, else you might get hurt.”

He goes to one knee and it would almost look gallant were he not holding a knife that would gut a deer. He grabs a bunch of material at the top of your sweats and then rips the knife through it, the material parting easily to show the pale skin of your thigh beneath. He sets the knife down on the floor and uses his hands to tear the fabric apart further before picking up the blade again and slicing through the waistband. He hacks cleanly through the material on your other leg and then with brute force removes them completely.

“Please…” Your voice is a whisper. “Please don’t do this. Just… if you let me go I, I won’t say anything to anyone - won’t call the police. Please -”

He stands up to tower over you, knife back in his hand and he grabs your hair again, pulling your head back.

“You think I give a fuck about police? They wouldn’t be able to find us anyway.” He puts the blade back at your throat and you close your eyes - this is harder than you thought. The words for your colours scroll through your brain and it helps to calm you; that invisible lifeline… you decide you don’t need it yet, even as he strokes the edge of the metal across your skin as he goes on. “You can scream and cry, you can beg, you can plead with us - go right ahead.” He turns the blade so that once again the very tip is pressing into your neck. “We like that,” He says, dragging the knife gently upwards and gliding it along your jaw before pressing it flat to your cheek, making you bite down on your lip in an unsuccessful bid to suppress a whimper.

“Why me?” You dare to open your eyes and he moves the knife away from your face as in perfect tag team fashion Shawn takes over and gives you a small shake.

“Because you were there, bitch.” He releases one of your arms and puts the hand around your neck, closing it tighter than he has thus far. “There you were out for a run - really caught my eye, so I followed you home. We’ve been looking for a new toy for a few days and there you were - call it fate, huh?”

You go to take a breath and have the frightening realisation that you can’t really get much air in because of his hold on you and you begin to struggle - a futile cause between Mark’s hand in your hair and Shawn’s grip on your throat. The blonde takes hold of your arm again and you gasp in some air, the breath out releasing as a sob as Mark takes a handful of your shirt and sends it the same way as your sweats until you’re stood there in the just the underwear you picked out earlier - it’s a sweet matching set, white with a purple marbling pattern that you only bought a week ago.

“Nice…” Mark takes a step back to appraise you as he twirls the knife in his big hand before slipping it into the back of his jeans. “Did you wear that especially for us?”

“Fuck you,” You snarl at him, figuring that a change of tack is required.

He just smirks. “Later.” He glances above your head and says to Shawn, “Hey, you want a go? Throw her across here.”

In response, Shawn lets go and pushes you forward at the same time as spinning you round. With your wrists still tied behind your back you stagger a bit to regain your footing and then Mark catches you and adopts the same grip on your upper arms, holding you back against him. Shawn steps forward and takes the knife from Mark’s jeans. He stands and contemplates the blade for a few moments and then raises his eyes to look at you coldly. Normally his eyes are bright and they twinkle with fun and amusement but now… there’s nothing. It’s sinister.

He traces the tip of the knife down your sternum and then back up, the metal leaving pink lines in its wake. You’re trying not to breathe too hard and watching his face, but he’s concentrating solely on the blade. He glances up and sees you looking at him.

“He’s a lot nicer than me, y’know.” He presses the blade flat against your throat, forcing your head up. “And I’m still a little pissed about you kicking me when I put you in the truck.” He slides the knife down to your shoulder and works it under the strap of your bra before he turns it to strain against the material. The strap digs into the back of your shoulder until it finally caves to the pressure and the blade slices it clean through. He repeats the action on the other side and looks annoyed when the moulded cups don’t just fall down. With a growl he wrenches them away, revealing your breasts to his gaze and then with determined movements, cuts through the band before pulling the whole torn mess from you and dropping it to the floor.

You turn your head and look off to the side, trying to make out that you couldn’t care less about the fact your clothing has been cut off. Shawn tucks the knife away behind him and grabs your breasts roughly, squeezing them to just the wrong side of uncomfortable. That said, you’re used to a rough ride now and again and privately you know that when your panties come off as they surely must, there won’t be any doubt as to how you’ve felt about things so far. Nevertheless, you do your best to try and get away, twisting left and right.

“Stop it! You’re hurting me!”

In response he takes a strong grip on your nipples and you scream - for effect rather than real objection - only to be ignored as he leans in close. “Keep telling you, bitch… I haven’t even started.”

You’re not quite sure where your next idea comes from and you certainly don’t take the time to think it through - just draw your head back slightly and then spit into his face…

TO BE CONTINUED

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NOTES

Goes without saying that knife play can be hella dangerous. Again, I have taken certain liberties within the above and so don’t whatever you do use it as a how to guide. I’m not going to pontificate about the do and do nots of knife play here, because there are plentiful resources on the net if you want to find out more about it. If it’s something you’re curious about then there are ways to keep it safer (note - SAFER - not safe) and that’s to only ever place the non business-side of the knife against skin. Alternatively, another way around it is to let the sub see the knife but then blindfold them and use something else entirely to produce the sensation, such as the side of a credit card. If, as in the fic above, you’re cutting someone’s clothes off with a knife then always makes sure that you are cutting AWAY from them.

[cookielibra20019]

So I’m gonna rant again.. kind of a feels one if you guys don’t mind..? Here goes..

So I’ve been thinking a lot about rottmnt and how it is… and I’ve been kind of sad about it. Because here me out I’m gonna own up. I was one of the many people that refused to watch it when it first came out because everything was different and I didn’t like it.. I hate change. So when they came out with it I refused to watch it like the ignorant person I am. I even refused to watch Transformers for the longest time because that got rid of Meghan Fox and ONE Linkin Park song because it was more on the pop side of things… And idk I just regret not giving it a chance when I could’ve, y’know? And because of me and countless of others not giving it a chance when it aired.. it’s possibly never coming back.. And fuck man it’s just sad because I never felt so relatable, never felt so warm because the family dynamic is so messed up yet so strong and beautiful! I miss it so much and yeah Mutant Mayhem is coming out and I am so ecstatic for it. I can’t wait to see how their personalities are and how they work together as brothers and as a team but I don’t know I just feel so sad and I’ve been thinking about how do you know I miss him. I miss Donnie being canon autistic you know so relatable to so many people like myself and Leo being obviously gay.  I miss Raph being the protective, older brother leader, who is a giant compared to them. I miss them actually letting Mikey contribute to the team and actually taking his ideas into consideration I miss the dynamic of them actually respecting one another and actually loving one another and showing how much they love each other. And I know that and the other series yeah they’re family and they love each other but they were always so rough with each other. Really, they showed them more working as a team and being a team than being a family and being brothers. And so I’m sad I am upset that we will possibly never be able to see them again we won’t unless you know they decide to or let’s say a streaming service buys it and asks them to make more which would probably be impossible. Anyway that’s the end of it. Just you guys let me know what you think I guess but yeah that’s my rant. You guys have a nice day and stay safe!

[unusual-ly]

🎭👏🫂 for Bill and Gabriel in the uni au?

Thanks for the prompt, anon! I haven’t had an emoji prompt that I could actually think of an idea for in ages, but it only took a few days to figure out what to do with this one!! It did take quite a while to write tho, being ill for a bit then preparing for Halloween etc, sorry about that, but here we are, the second ever uni AU fic~! I think I got a bit carried away again with the conversation but I brought it back to the emojis in the end!

Read on FFN

“You can do this,” she whispered, staring down her reflection, “You’ve made it through rehearsals, you can do this.”

There were plenty of factors contributing to her nervousness right now; she had only just started her transition, she’d only performed in English once before (and that hadn’t exactly been a great success), she didn’t have her old friends anymore, Bill had written this role specifically for her. Ian was watching. Gabrielle closed her eyes, took a long, deep breath in, and exhaled. Of course she could do this. Bill would be right beside her, and he seemed pretty confident.

Right on cue, Bill appeared in the doorway.

“You have no idea how utterly terrified I am right now.”

Her face fell. All she could manage was a weak “… Oh…?”

“I mean, I know that whole disaster last time was mostly Phil’s fault,” he hardly seemed to notice, and instead started pacing around the room, “But it was still my play. And you only get so many chances at a first play!”

When she didn’t respond, he turned to her and frowned; she was staring into space, anxiously chewing her bottom lip and fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve.

“Are you alright?”

She blinked. Her head snapped round again, “What?”

“You look nervous.”

There was a pause as Gabrielle hesitated, then nodded, “I am,” she shrugged, “I suppose,” and looked down at her hands, still toying anxiously with her sleeve, “A bit.”

“But you were fine the first time, weren’t you? And you’ve been amazing in rehearsals!”

“That was just rehearsals! And a lot has changed since the first play…”

Ah…

“Are you talking about you coming out…?” he asked, somewhat carefully.

She sighed and nodded again, “Among other things.”

Bill seemed to forget about his own fears then. Or he decided his friend’s troubles were more important. He closed the dressing room door and came to stand by the mirror with Gabrielle.

“OK, what’s up?”

He patiently listened as she spilled the contents of her mind (though she did skip over one little detail), letting her vent until she had gotten everything out, then he thought for a moment.

“Right,” he said eventually, “First off, your English is great. Nothing to worry about there. Second, and this might sound a bit harsh, but I don’t think your old friends really deserve to take up so much of your attention. You’re better off without them. I mean, they weren’t very supportive, in more than one way.”

“Hm…” He did have a point, she had to admit.

“Third, I’m sorry if I put any pressure on you writing this part, but you’ve nailed every rehearsal, I’ve seen how well you can pull it off. I’ve seen you handle mistakes,” he gave her arm a reassuring pat, “You can’t exactly disappoint me, y’know.”

She couldn’t help but crack a smile at that, “Thank you.”

“And most importantly,” he cast an exaggerated sweeping gaze around the otherwise empty room, then leaned just a little bit closer, “If anyone gives you any trouble, I can always…” he trailed off and Gabrielle cocked her head, curious. Before the following silence went on too long, he dropped his eyes to the floor awkwardly, “… Well, report it to Southampton, probably.”

Gabrielle scoffed at the obvious performance and rolled her eyes affectionately, “Of course.”

“I could absolutely take care of it myself but, you know, I do tend to… escalate drama rather than alleviate it.”

“I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

Bill frowned, “Well, you could argue a little-” then she turned back to the mirror and he saw the look on her face she was trying to hide, “You’re deflecting.”

“What?” she didn’t turn back.

“You’re trying to wrap this up weirdly quick. What’s wrong?”

“We have just discussed what was wrong, haven’t we?”

“Gabs. There is clearly still something on your mind. You’ve solved the rest of it by talking, why not this?”

She went quiet for a moment.

“It’s just that… there are certain people watching whose opinions I value very highly,” she said, still facing the mirror, “I want to make a good impression…”

“Certain people…?”

“… A certain person…”

Bill quirked a curious eyebrow, “In the audience…?”

There was a slightly longer silence. Gabrielle bit her lip. Bill waited.

“No.”

“… In the cast?”

“… No.”

It only took a second or two before Bill’s face lit up.

“I knew it. It’s Ian, isn’t it?”

Gabrielle stared at him, “How could you possibly guess that?”

“Like it wasn’t obvious. You’re basically obsessed with him.”

“How so?”

“You can’t stop smiling around him, you take every chance to talk to him, you always seem to find a way to bring him up in conversation…”

“Fine,” she huffed, “But that doesn’t make me any less nervous.”

Bill just smiled and shook his head, “I don’t think Ian’s gonna judge you. If anything, he’s usually been pretty impressed with your performances.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely. Now, come on,” he got up and went to open the door, “We’ve got a show to do, and it will go perfectly.”

“Perfectly?”

Bill, already striding down the corridor, called back to her over his shoulder, “I won’t accept anything less!”

Gabrielle sighed affectionately. Only Bill could be so blindly confident. Who’s to say she couldn’t do the same?

———

An hour and a half later, Gabrielle stood onstage beside Bill, along with the rest of the cast, after their final bows. The audience was on their feet, the applause ringing in her ears. As exhausted as she was, and as scared as she had been before the play, she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so proud of herself, and so at home.

She couldn’t believe the cheer she had gotten when she came out at the curtain call, and the moment the curtain fell, she turned and threw her arms around Bill. He just laughed and lifted her off the ground for a moment. When he put her back down, he leaned in close to her ear.

“I saw Ian watching you at the end there. I think he might have almost missed a cue.”

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #579

Top Ten Lonely Island Songs

I’ve always been a fan of a good comedy song. Generally speaking I’ve always been out of touch with the musical zeitgeist; never knew what was supposed to be cool or uncool, and even when I did like a song chances are I didn’t know who sang it – or if I did, I didn’t know when or what album or whatever else they might have sung. However, if I heard a funny song, that would stick in my mind; instead of washing over me or just being interesting, it’d lodge in my brain on repeat and quite often be the gateway to becoming a big fan of the comedy artist in question.

Which brings us to The Lonely Island.

Like most people familiar with the band, I first discovered them through Saturday Night Live. Although we can’t really watch it over here in the UK, so many of their skits and songs that featured in the show became YouTube sensations back in the neolithic days of that all-conquering video smorgasbord. When I was at CITV, we’d regularly share funny videos around the office, and there are a couple here in this list that were office staples (not those kinds of office staples). And this is how I got to know who Andy Samberg is (alongside clips of his stoner-bro impression of Mark Zuckerberg), so that his appearances in movies became something I looked forward to, all the way up till Brooklyn Nine-Nine, one of my favourite sitcoms of all time.

So as we shared their funny songs with each other instead of writing continuity links for Pocoyo or logging clips of My Goldfish is Evil, I discovered more of their back catalogue, and my interest grew. But I’d say it exploded with the release of Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, a hilarious film that boasts some of the bands greatest songs. That’s when I really started to think about just how many cool songs these guys had made, how funny they were, and how smart and complex they were in the way they parodied different musical genres or specific songs. In a manner similar to Weird Al, as the band has gone on they’ve tackled a variety of subjects with great aplomb, to the point where some of their parodies actually work as “for-real” songs – just, y’know with jokes. And probably this is most evident in the Popstar soundtrack; maybe it’s all that palling around with Justin Timberlake, but the Lonely Island fellas are very good at doing a boyband.

Anyway. I like them! And they’re good at making films too – right up to last year’s Chip ‘n’ Dale. And I think their sensibilities carry over so much from their music to their comedy to their movies, even in things like Palm Springs, Nine-Nine, and the animated movies they’ve been a part of (more on which a bit later…). So let’s don our turtlenecks, cut a hole in a box, and get our arms T-Rexing, as we celebrate the best ever Lonely Island songs as decided by me.

Spring Break Anthem (2013): like most of their songs that I love, it starts by just being funny; the OTT celebration of riotous and disturbing spring break behaviour is, well, very funny, made moreso by the music video that seems to rope in an entire break’s worth of teenagers to contribute. However it’s the juxtaposition of the ludicrous, misogynistic alpha-male macho posturing against the placid and romantic scenes of same-sex marriage that flips it up into art. It's like there’s a commentary being made about how the worst kinds of discriminatory excess can hide hidden truths about the person being offensive; here, it makes the “hetero” activities seem like extravagant gestures coming from a place of denial or even self-loathing. The tender scenes of the Lonely Island trio planning their weddings – with celebrity grooms including Ed Norton, for Pete’s sake – are superbly done. The lyrics are fantastic: “two kings walking hand in hand”. Marry a man.

Finest Girl (2016): coming from the soundtrack to Popstar, this sees Samberg in character as Conner4real, singing a romantic pop song about the finest girl he ever met in his whole life, who turned out to be a freak when she started talking. And then it just gets weird. There’s no two ways about it, it’s a surreal one, comparing – well – the act of love-making to the execution of a terrorist. There’s a pleasing comic sense of schadenfreude and celebration with the chorus’ repeated refrains of (ahem) “Fuck Bin Laden”, but it’s the other lyrics – using the imagery of covert ops to describe sex – that are most funny, especially the lines “she said ‘invade my cave with your special unit’/I said he wasn’t in a cave but there was no stopping”. Look, it’s crude and it’s silly but it’s just weird and daft and genius too.

Natalie’s Rap (2006) and Natalie’s Rap 2.0 (2018): Natalie’s Rap might have been my intro to The Lonely Island. Like a lot of comedy songs, it really hangs on one simple but humorous conceit: in this case that seemingly straight-laced actor Natalie Portman – all serious roles, humanitarian causes, and prestigious universities – was in fact a sex-crazed drug addict spouting foul-mouthed angry hip-hop. And it’s a conceit so funny it worked twice. A large part – basically, like, all the parts – of its success is Portman’s full-bodied commitment to the role, tossing off grotesque obscenities and – in the videos – just throwing stuff around. And, of course, the lyrics themselves are really funny; there’s a purity to the first video (I just couldn’t separate them) but I think the wordplay is funnier second time round, with more specific references to things like Black Swan and Portman’s marriage, as well as an absolutely inspired and disturbing Star Wars sequence.

Like a Boss (2009): another one that rose high for me when I worked at CITV, and so was an early introduction into the band and their wider oeuvre. And the appeal of this one is very simple: the heavy refrain (“Like a boss”) is funny in and of itself, but then the lyrics become increasingly surreal to the point of outright derangement, all of this apparently taking place within the confines of some kind of job appraisal. But the randomness of some of the lyrics – “find a giant fish/fuck its brains out” – is to be applauded; it’s just a really silly, funny little song. And apparently it’s a parody? I dunno. But I guess that would make the Bosch ad campaign a little more understandable.

Jack Sparrow (2011): once more we have a song that benefits from a humorous juxtaposition, as Michael Bolton provides smooth accompaniment to a crude hip hop track about picking up girls. But, like quite a few of their songs, it goes super-surreal as Bolton just croons a bunch of film references. The call-and-response nature of the lyrics – “okay that was kinda weird but we’re back in the club” – provides a lot of laughs, but it’s Bolton’s very game insertion into typical Island craziness that excels, whether it’s dressing up as Erin Brockovich or singing crude lyrics from Scarface.

Dick in a Box (2006): in a way the song that seemed to start it all, an SNL skit – the first to co-star Timberlake – that’s a mid-noughties pop ballad about love and romance, all centred knobs in parcels. The obvious comedy is derived from presenting such a thing as a sweet romantic gesture, but the song – and video – gives so much more. Timberlake is incredibly game – as he is in all his contributions with Lonely Island, including sweeping the floors in Jizz in My Pants – and the scenes of him and Samberg dancing with Christmas presents strapped to their nethers is a comic joy. It builds so well, climaxing in all the places you can experience a box/penis interface (“over at your parents’ house”, “midday at the grocery store”) but what I think everyone who hears it loves the most is the instructions: “One: cut a hole in a box”.

Diaper Money (2013): contrasting the rough hip hop braggadocio style with something that seems culturally at the other end of the spectrum is a comic stock in trade – here the guys are angrily rapping, boasting about their success, but the things they extol are rather mundane. However, what floats my boat, is it’s a particularly middle-class, early-middle-age kind of boastfulness, about marriage and fatherhood. And, really, the very concept of “diaper money” is quite funny to me.

Jizz in My Pants (2008): most of the Island songs are some flavour of hip hop, R&B, or pop, but here they spoof an entire other genre. Really, this is their take on the Pet Shop Boys, and it’s really well done; fast staccato delivery, urban imagery, and a good fist of their accents to boot. And then, yes, there’s the song’s subject matter and lyrics, the rapid-fire wordplay leading up to a series of hilarious climaxes. The middle eight, running through a series of insane scenarios that produce the titular effect, is a comic gem; “When Bruce Willis was dead at the end of Sixth Sense…” The only real negative I can think of is that as a PSB spoof it’s not quite as good as Inner City Pressure.

Motherlover (2009): another of a trilogy of videos featuring Samberg and Timberlake as a weird early-noughties pop duo, I love the call and response lyrics here as they discuss their odd little plan, so fabulously icky and uncomfortable as they sing frankly about their mums and the “switcheroo”. It’s creepy and demented – “I’m pushing that lady where you came out as a baby” – and it gets worse as the song goes on. Worth highlighting the supremely game Susan Sarandon and Patricia Clarkson as the mothers who, er, get loved.

Equal Rights (2016): another terrific turn by Conner4real, duetting with Pink in a song about homophobia and oppression and, well, equal rights. It’s a great parody of incurious celebrities latching on to progressive topics in a cynical manner, exemplified here in Conner’s frequent assertions that despite singing about gay rights he’s “not gay”; a thread that grows until it takes over the entire song in a list of supposedly macho and heterosexual things (“hot wings!”). And hey, if girls wanna have sex with him just cause he said this, so be it!

So there’s one song that could have been on this list I guess – Everything is Awesome. But they only co-wrote and appear on the track, so I’ve decided it – and the other Lego Movie songs they contributed to – don’t really count as fully-fledged Lonely Island numbers. But it’d be up there! For reals!

Also, if I’m doing bonus stuff, I really love their “Oscar song demo” that was scrapped by the Academy.

[bexstevie]

STEVIE REFLECTION SOLO - EPISODE 4

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it’s like muscle memory, stepping in and greeting the staff waiting for him with a grin. “hello~” he sings, a skip in his step, his head bowing towards everyone as he goes to sit. “we gotta stop meeting like this,” he jokes, getting himself situated. 

EPISODE FOUR! HOW ARE YOU FEELING?

“good!” he says, signature grin on his face. “feels kinda crazy i’m still here. hopefully for next episode too. we’ll see, i guess.” anything could happen, but stevie will keep hoping and trying. it’s got him this far, why stop now?

DID YOU LIKE YOUR CONCEPT?

“i did! i thought it was fun.” stevie’s legs kick out as he talks, recalling everything that’s occurred since the last time he sat in this chair. “our song choice helped– it calls for bright and upbeat, and it’s hard not to be when you’re singing along, y’know?” he cracks a grin. “and everyone was super involved, i feel. there was a lot what we could do with it, but i think we’re all happy with what we ended up with.” 

YOU THINK? WERE THERE ANY DISAGREEMENTS IN THE CREATIVE PROCESS?

“uh…” stevie trails off, a nervous laugh leaving him. “i mean…a little? i think we all can agree tensions are a little…crazy with how things went last episode.” the clips of ceo yoon losing it went viral, basically. “a little probably carried over those first few days, but i think we managed it pretty well in the end.” 

IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU’RE FEELING CONFIDENT THEN. 

“am i?” stevie muses, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “i think i’m being more hopeful, than anything. but i guess, yeah. i am pretty confident with what we’ve done. i think everyone worked hard on it– tirelessly, too. maybe that’s why.” hard to not be confident with something when he knows everyone’s done the work to get it this far, no matter what the cameras may show. 

IS THERE A CONCEPT YOU WISH YOU HAD INSTEAD?

“cute and bright.” he says, unflinchingly. “the sexy one i think would have been too similar to last challenge– but cute and bright would have been nice. though i guess adrenaline is also…the same. so,” he shrugs, laughing it off. 

ALRIGHT, LASTLY– ANYONE TO NOTE THAT YOU FOUND PARTICULARLY HELPFUL?

“i know you probably get tired of hearing it, but i think everyone really did put their work in.” stevie says, honest. “the coaches helped, naturally. everyone contributed to throwing around costume ideas and skit ideas for the beginning. inho helped me with tips on how to keep my voice from shaking, jiayi and kaito put in a lot of work with our intro choreography, and jaeyoung is really creative. he was giving some pretty good ideas for our little skit at the beginning and some of the transitions for the dance break.” he rambles off. he’s proud of his team, all things considered; they have had their ups and downs, but honestly– what team hasn’t at this point?

[fallynleaf]

I saw you mention you use Gill Sans for text on your gifs. Are you aware of the disgusting history behind that font and its maker? Well, i say disgusting but it’s not something i really care about. I was wondering if it would affect you at all. Y’know how, we don’t use the term Asperger’s syndrome anymore because it was a nazi scientist that coined it, and cisgender was an idea given by a eugenicist, i wonder if people should feel the same about fonts created by Eric Gill. I mean this as a genuine neutral uncharged question, i am not judging you in any way :) kind regards

this ask seems worded like i'm walking into a trap, but, well, here we go, i guess...

yes, i have a book arts degree (or, well, half of one. i have a souped up graduate certificate in book arts that's less than a year's credits short of a full MFA), and in my letterpress and book design classes, we got into multiple discussions on whether or not it's ethical to use Eric Gill's fonts, considering the horrible things the man did when he was alive (for those who don't know, his wikipedia page talks about it. tw: sexual abuse).

personally, my main thought on the matter is that the man is long dead, at this point, and is in no way benefiting from continued use of his fonts, so i see using them as basically morally neutral. gill sans entered public domain in 2010. it'll always be tied to its creator, of course, but typefaces as a whole are already extremely detached from the conditions of their creation in most people's minds, and i think only a small percentage of people are able to so much as recognize the font, much less know anything about its creator. (for instance, i never received an ask criticizing my use of gill sans on my gifs until i mentioned that that's the font i use, so seemingly no one even recognized it)

unfortunately, there are a lot of awful people throughout history that have created things that we regularly use today. personally i think it's most important to consider whether continuing to use something is contributing to active harm. like financially supporting Harry Potter, for instance. or with your example of Asperger's syndrome, my understanding is that the name is far from the only problematic thing about the concept.

i think there'd be an argument against using gill sans/perpetua/joanna/etc. in the modern day if their use was triggering to others, but as far as i know, they've really become so removed from Eric Gill himself, there's not really a strong association there for most people.

maybe i'm wrong about this and there are people out there who do find it triggering to see fonts created by Eric Gill being used and showing up in the font dropdown lists and such, but even among the typeface/book nerd community i met in grad school who by and large could immediately recognize his fonts and who knew about his history, i've never met anyone who felt triggered seeing them.

my main reason for using gill sans (the italic, at least. i don't like the regular version) on my gifsets is because it's one of the default fonts available, so it's very accessible, and i feel that it is very readable (even at fairly small sizes) without looking lifeless. it also has a lot of typefaces in its family so you have a lot of options for other fonts to pair with your caption text if you need to have some other text on the gif that you want to distinguish from the caption.

i could probably find some new typefaces online somewhere that would also look great, but i have a tendency to gravitate toward the fonts i've worked with in metal lol because my first experiences learning book design were through letterpress, and gill sans is one of the few sans serif fonts our studio had, so i have more experience working with it compared to others.

[phoenixyfriend]

Commander Buir

Follow-up to this post. Not in any particular order, just spitballing ideas, with contributions from several friends on discord.

Like presumably it takes long enough for them all to meet up again that Anakin and Cody do, in fact, end up treating each other like family, just so I can have that good good "well, guess I'm Dad now" energy. Shmi isn't entirely sure what's going on but she's not a slave anymore and her kid seems to like this rando mando, so.

Anakin gets to have a mom and two dads, though one of the dads is arguably younger than him.

Also when they all meet up again and Cody explains the "General Skywalker got shrunk" thing, there are three reactions: (General) Obi-Wan: Oh, Anakin. Obi-Wan: [gestures to take him, ends up with an armful of clingy padatoddler] Anakin: You can't blame this on me, Obi. Obi-Wan, a little teary, because babies cause emotions: Of course I can, you absurd human being. ------ Rex: That's... my general. Anakin: I am, Captain. Rex: Cool cool cool I'm gonna go stand where I can't, uh, break you. Anakin: I'm not THAT fragile! ------ Ahsoka: [gasp] Skyguy is SKYKID! Anakin: Padawan, this is-- Ahsoka, grabbing him and cuddling: Oh my goodness you're adorable this is the best day ever. Anakin: This is humiliating, Snips, put me down. Ahsoka: Never.

Anakin hates being a toddler because of the lack of independence but Cody keeps picking him up when he's cranky and just holding him until he falls asleep and that's... nice.......

- The brain limitations aren't quite as bad as the situation with Sokanth and Ylliben in the other AU, but - Even if his brain is mostly adjusted he’s still got a tiny body with different needs that he’s not used to. Like, he needs to sleep more but he’s got more energy than usual when he’s awake and it’s all weird.

Cody carrying around toddler Anakin like "God you give me ulcers but you're adorable, you little shit."

Inconveniently tiny body aside, Anakin has a pretty great time in this au. His family are all together and safe and within reach. His wife isn't around, but toddler brain means he doesn't have the Romance Drive, so that's not as bad as it could be It could be significantly worse.

@atagotiak asked: Does Anakin get annoyed about being called cute? - To which I say, He bites the first few times but Shmi tells him that's Naughty so he stops. - Babies are cute so you packbond with them before they’re annoying, Anakin is cute as a self defense mechanism - He’s extra annoying so he needs to be extra cute

You know how you need to keep an eye on toddlers so they don't, like, fall down the stairs or put something toxic in their mouth? - They need to keep an eye on Anakin specifically so he doesn't rewire the ship they're in while they're in hyperspace. - He has less self control on account of being smol. He still has all the mechanical knowledge! Just less comprehension of y’know, consequences.

Anakin, with a sippy cup: This is demeaning. Ahsoka: Your hands don't work great enough to avoid accidents yet. Anakin: It's still embarrassing.

General Kenobi can't just kill Maul, not when Maul is baby right now (sixteen, which is baby enough) so he just. Kinda. Kidnaps a baby Sith. (It's fine. He's fine.)

General Kenobi (not to be confused with Padawan Kenobi) decides to declare Maul his new padawan because someone has to deal with this teenager, and Plo already claimed the rest of Ahsoka's training. And Anakin's three, so.

"What do we do with Maul?" "Eh, I can handle him. I dealt with teenage Anakin getting arrested for illegal pod-racing twice a month, I can work with this."

Maul bites, but only slightly more often than Anakin, it's fine

Ahsoka definitely bullies Maul whenever possible

Consider: Rex holding very still because Anakin wanted to be tall, so he climbed Rex. Being unexpectedly climbed is better than being unexpectedly yeeted. It's still extremely nerve-wracking. - Cody is perfectly capable of running around with a backpacking toddler General, but Rex freezes like a statue. - Ahsoka finds this hilarious

You know how little kids like to be thrown around and swung in circles and stuff like that? This must get even more ridiculous with force users. Can throw a child real high and catch them safely. - Rex panics whenever Ahsoka throws her chibified Master

Literally everyone except Rex loves being yeeted. Even Maul can appreciate a good tactical yeet no shut up he's not having fun this is TRAINING - Rex is Suffering - Cody, a very Tired Dad, deserves to mock his vod'ika a little, as stress relief - Rex, a certified Little Brother, shoves Cody off something tall. Jokes on him, Cody thinks freefall is fun too.

Tia asked: So the people who didn’t exist yet got flung bodily back in time and Anakin did the mental time travel. Why did Obi-Wan not become Padawan Kenobi? (I mean “because I want it that way” is def a good enough answer I’m just wondering if there’s any reason.) - Which, well, it really was mostly "I want to" but here's two options, both of which come down to Blame Daughter and Father. 1. They figured a responsible adult Jedi Master was needed to convince people. 2. Nobody was supposed to get de-aged but Daughter figured they needed to make Anakin less liable to kill things for a few years. - Also IDK the Force God-Manifestations also took away any risk of rapid aging and early death from the clones because uhhhhhhhhhhh I said so

Rex and Ahsoka are fumbling their way through a relationship where ages are just really confusing and awkward, so they're keeping it to just kisses and cuddles for a bit.

Cody is so tired he doesn't even realize anyone's hitting on him until it's been three years of co-parenting with Shmi and his General. - Somehow Anakin knows Cody is in a relationship before Cody does. Cody has never been so embarrassed. - How did he manage to be less observant than Skywalker? -- it was sabotage; all his brain cells were taken up in managing said Skywalker -- Because Skywalker was up at three in the morning whacking a training droid with a stick so he didn't have the energy for Relationships

Also Shmi's come-ons are super subtle, while the General's are... well, Cody's gotten very used to ignoring anything ambiguous on that end because fraternization rules, and also because Obi-Wan flirts a lot with everyone. So.

Please imagine Cody and General Kenobi walking around with Anakin tucked into a toddler sling while they do whatever work they've ended up with at the Temple. - Yes, Cody is helping the Jedi figure out the best plan of attack to take down this slave ring because his grasp on tactics is phenomenal and he knows how to deploy people at greatest efficiency, but also he's got a nosy toddler on his hip who keeps offering his own insane-but-competent ideas. - General Kenobi ends up with a Council Seat just on account of, like, being the kind of person he is. As often as not, he's got Anakin tucked into his robes, chewing on the ear of a stuffed tooka or something.

IDK what Shmi's doing but apparently Legends had it that some of the administrative and support positions in the Temple were held by non-Jedi civilians? So probably something like that.

GENERAL KENOBI LECTURING PADAWAN MAUL WHILE ANAKIN'S BALANCED ON HIS HIP AND GLARING AT MAUL FOR STEALING HIS DAD

General Kenobi: Ahsoka's babysitting. Anakin: I'm her master, I don't need babysitting, this is-- General Kenobi: Fine, then you need supervision, so that you don't blow up a training salle again. Anakin: And you think Ahsoka would stop me? General Kenobi, eye twitching: Fine, I'm leaving you with Plo.

Even if he’s mentally an adult Anakin always needs supervision Look at canon! Anakin was left without supervision for like two days and he became a Sith

Quinlan gets distracted by how attractive General Kenobi is and tells Obi-Wan "dude, you're gonna be so hot once you can get rid of the stupid haircut" and Obi-Wan pushes him into the nearest pond.

They end up with this weird "Uncle Jango" situation (uncle to Anakin, via weird brotherhood-ish to Cody) because Rex and Cody are just like "Uhhhhhhhhh yeah okay" about him eventually, and Jango just like. Drops by. Trying to Earn Affection Of Blood Kin by bringing weird gifts for them and their (ugh) Jedi.

"Okay, Rex'ika, I stopped by Shili--" "What?" "--and apparently this is a delicacy there, so just... your girlfriend will like it." "She's not my girlfriend." "..." "Okay, I can't call her my girlfriend. Jedi have rules about that sort of thing, and--" "This will make your Jedi happy, probably. Just take it, kid."

Baby Anakin got his arm back but for some inexplicable reason still has The Eye Scar. He matches Buir.

[thebluesideofmyworld]

A Good Guy - A Solangelo One-Shot

Summary: Will might be a lot of things. And among those things, Will would dare to say that he’s a good guy. But when it came to Nico di Angelo, would he ever be good enough, though?

Word count: 3900 words || Rating: Teenage and Up Audiences || Read on AO3

Notes:

1. Based on the song "good guys" by LANY 2. My contribution for @after-everything-pjo-zine project. Check out other fics (each fic is accompanied by great fanart so you just HAVE to check it out) in the zine here.

***

Will might be a lot of things. And among those things, Will would dare to say that he’s a good guy. And he would proudly say that it’s because his family raised him to be one. His Mama made sure that he never forgot to say please, sorry and thank you, and his grandma taught him to respect people. Even though Apollo wasn’t around to be an ideal father as Will was growing up in Tennessee, his grandpa showed him how to be a Southern gentleman.

So yeah, he might come across as a young man who with a sassy attitude. But heck, Will knew that he was a good guy. And he’s proud of that.

But here’s the thing. Here’s a thing about being a good guy. Being a good guy might sound like it’s a good thing to do. But being a good guy also sometimes meant that you’re almost as invisible as a wallflower. Because even though you’re good, there were always be better guys. And one thing that Will learned about being a good guy? Good guys never win.

***

“It’s been almost two weeks, you know,” Will said as he kept his eyes at the monthly medical report that he (pretended) to be reading.

“Two weeks since what?” Kayla asked, but didn't bother to pretend that she's actually interested.

“Since Nico went for that quest, remember? Something about Persephone’s parrot or something?” Will said, still trying to keep his eyes at the notes. Because he knew that Kayla might still see the worry in Will’s eyes. (Sometimes it’s almost scary, how his siblings knew him too well).

“Oh? Really? Has it been two weeks yet?”

“Almost,” Will said, decided to leave the detail that it’s actually has been 11 days and since Nico had left the camp early in the morning and now it was almost dinner, it’s been almost twelve freaking days since Nico left the camp for that stupid quest.

“I mean, of course, it might be nothing but well, I thought it was supposed to be a short, simple quest?” Will continued. “Usually if it’s just this small quest, it never took him this long before. Usually it would just be like, three days, five, at the most, and like, a week if he took a detour to impulsively do something unnecessary, but never this long.”

Will lifted his head and turned to look at Kayla, who didn’t seem to share the same worry as Will. Her eyes were still fixed on the glossy pictures of the magazine that she was looking at. A non-committal hum coming from her was the only sign that she was (kind of) listening.

Will tried to focus on the lines of writing in front of him, but the letters were all jumbled and he couldn’t make himself try to read anything. His mind was too busy thinking about different reasons and scenarios of why Nico wasn’t back yet from the quest.

“Do you think I should ask Chiron about it? Probably he’s heard from Nico, y’know. Like, maybe something came up and I don’t know, maybe Chiron knew or maybe even Rachel got a vision or something, or-“

“Or you could have just contacted me, Solace. Pretty sure that it doesn't hurt to try IM me”

Will stood up and spun to face the direction where the voice was coming from. He did it so fast, he got dizzy because of it. It took him two seconds before his eyes could fully focus on Nico di Angelo, who was staring at him. His face looked nonchalant, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

“Uh, hey,” Will greeted, gripping the desk as he suddenly needed to get a hold of himself. “You’re back.”

Nico gave him a single nod, brushing away some strands of hair from covering his eyes. “Yep. I just got back.” He shrugged his shoulders before continuing. “Thought I’d drop by here before I report to Chiron.”

Will tightened his grip on the desk, trying his best to hold himself from closing the distance between him and Nico just to pull Nico into his arms.

“And uh… What brings you here?”

The emotional part of him wished that he was the reason why Nico came straight to the infirmary after the quest. But the rational part of him shushed him. That damned rational part of him told him that hey, it was him who wanted to see Nico, not the other way around.

Nico kept his eyes at Will and there was something in those dark eyes that Will couldn’t really put his fingers on.

“I thought you wanted me to have a check-up every time I got back from a quest?”

Of course.

Will tried to ease the dull pain in his heart by giving Nico a small smile. “Yeah. Of course. Need to make sure that you won’t fade into the shadows again, huh?” Will let out a nervous chuckle. “I mean, I am your doctor, and a doctor only wants the best for his patients.”

This time Nico stayed silent as he nodded. Will gestured to a nearby cot with his chin.

“Now, if you could just sit down over there, please?”

Still saying nothing, Nico strode to the cot and quickly sat there. Will took a deep breath, mentally telling himself to be professional, and let it out in a long exhale. He made his way to where Nico was waiting for him.

The check-up was a regular one. And there was nothing new about how touching Nico made stupid butterflies do some stupid dancing in his stomach. He ached to ask Nico questions about what happened in the quest and why it took so long. He wanted to know whether Nico ever thought of him while he was on the quest the way Will kept on thinking about him while he was away. He wanted to listen to Nico talk to him, with that slight accent that made his voice so melodious, almost like he was singing.

But it would only scare Nico away.

So he kept his eyes at the board where he jotted down the notes about Nico’s vitals.

“So, uhm… This quest was a bit longer than usual, huh?” Will asked, almost proud of himself that his voice sounded normal.

Nico hummed as he put his jacket back on. “Yeah, we had an unexpected encounter with some empousai. Luckily, David is unexpectedly good at fighting.”

At the mention of the name, Will lifted his head up. “David? You mean the new camper? That Athena kid?”

Nico nodded. “Yeah. For someone who never held a sword before, I have to say that I’m impressed.”

A strange, nauseating heat flared inside Will’s stomach. “Really?”

“Yup. In fact, I promised to give him an extra lesson in sword-fighting tomorrow.”

That strange heat swirled even more inside Will. He stretched his lips into a lame attempt to smile at Nico.

“Oh,” Will said. “Nice.”

“In one way, he strangely reminded me of Percy, you know? The way he held his sword.” And Nico continued talking for a while about that stupid new guy. Will listened, humming every now and then just to show Nico that he’s listening.

Half of his mind wished that the harpies would find that David kid to be a nice target for their dinner. The other half of his mind scowled at him for having that kind of evil wish.

“Okay. Everything looks good. Just make sure that you drink enough water,” Will said as he wrote the date and signed his name on the bottom part of the report.

“So I can go now?”

Will nodded. “Yeah, you’re free to go now,” he answered as he walked back to his desk to put the record in the folder.

“And you’re not even offering to walk me back to my Cabin like a good Southern gentleman?”

Will spun on his heel quickly. He stared at Nico with wide eyes, thinking that he might have been hallucinating.

“What?”

Nico snorted and slid down from the cot. “Never mind. I need to report to Chiron first anyway.”

Will blinked, and it took him a full two seconds before he had his voice again.

“Nico-“

But Nico was already one step away from the door. He stopped and looked at Will over his shoulder. The left tip of his lips curled up, just slightly, forming a ghost of a smile. He gave a two-finger salute to Will.

“I’ll see you around, Solace.”

Not waiting for Will to answer him, Nico stepped away. And just like that, he’s out of sight.

Will stared at the open door. There is this hollowness inside his heart that he couldn't explain. Like he just missed a chance.

He always thought that he’s a good guy. Or at least, he’s trying to.

But would he ever be good enough, though?

***

“What are you doing here?”

Lou Ellen’s voice startled Will.

“Me? Uh…” Will scrambled to pick up the book that he just dropped and showed it to Lou, like he was trying to prove something. “I was reading!”

Lou Ellen stared at him with a glint of amusement in her eyes as she gave Will the Look. The ‘don’t-give-me-bullshit’ Look.

“What, am I not allowed to read in peace?” Will said, a bit defensively.

“Hey, it’s cool dude,” Lou said. “In fact, it was nice to see you somewhere else aside from the infirmary,” she added.

Will relaxed a bit, going back to lean his back on the tree.

“I can see why you choose this spot. It’s much quieter than the infirmary on your busy days,” Lou said.

Will hummed.  His eyes flickered to the far left, to the clearing a few yards away, just for a split second before he opened his book.

“And the view from here is also… decent.”

Lou Ellen’s tone made Will quickly look up again at the daughter of Hecate. She’s now grinning at him, like she just figured something out.

“How long have you been spying on those two?” Lou asked, gesturing with her chin to two demigods in the clearing who seemed to just finished sparring.

Will gaped at her. He blinked and quickly shook his head. “What? No! I’ve told you, I was reading here!”

But Lou Ellen didn’t seem to care about Will’s reaction as she waved at the demigods in the clearing.

“Hey, Nico! David!”

Will’s eyes widened in horror this time as he turned his head around, only to see that Nico and the new Athena kid walked towards them.

“Lou!” he hissed in annoyance.

Lou Ellen just gave him a teasing smirk. “What?”

Will groaned and quickly stood up, his book abandoned on the grass as he unconsciously ran a hand over his wild locks.

“Hey,” Nico greeted. “What’s up?”

Nothing’s up aside from his heartbeat, Will would like to answer. But of course, he kept it to himself as he tried his best to school his face into a relaxed, nonchalant, I’m-just-chilling-here expression.

“Nothing much,” Lou Ellen shrugged her shoulders. “You two are sparring together here? Why? Is the arena too mainstream for you?”

The new Athena kid gave a half-smile as he brushed off some hair from covering his eyes. “It was my request, actually,” he said. “I just want to have a...” he waved his right in a vague circular motion, like trying to find the exact word to say. “A more… realistic view when fighting a monster?”

That didn’t really make sense to Will. But it seemed to be an acceptable reason for Lou Ellen as she nodded at him.

“And has Nico been a good teacher for you?” Lou Ellen asked.

Will didn’t miss the way Lou gave him a quick glance.

David’s half-smile turned into a full one. “He is!” He turned his head to Nico and smiled at him, like he was pleased at Nico. “Thanks for teaching me, Nico. You are very good at sword-fighting.”

Nico returned David’s smile with one of his small smiles. A smile that could have filled Will’s chest with warm air. But since he’s not at the receiving end of that smile, it turned Will’s chest into lead instead.

“Anytime. It was a pleasure.”

“You will teach me more, yes? And ah… We also need to talk more. About football.”

This was the first time for Will to really listen to David talking, and he couldn’t help but notice how David’s voice had quite an accent. Especially when he pronounced football, the way he stretched some syllables.

Nico’s face lit up. “Yeah! We should! I know that Cecil played football! Right?” His eyes darted from Will to Lou Ellen, like asking for confirmation.

“Cecil? He does. I can take you to talk to him. Come on,” Lou Ellen quickly pulled the sleeve of David’s shirt and led him away from the other two demigods.

Will watched the backs of Lou Ellen and David who were walking away from them. He could feel nervousness starting to creep in on him as their voices slowly faded away, as he realized that he’s now alone with Nico.

Not that he hated to be with Nico. It’s just… this wasn’t his plan. He wasn’t prepared. And Will hated it when things didn’t go as he planned. He hated it when he was unprepared.

“David played football,” Nico said just when David and Lou Ellen disappeared from their sight.

Will angled his neck to look at Nico. “And when you said football, did you mean soccer?”

“I mean football,” Nico answered, turning on his heels a little so now he was facing Will. “The real football.”

Will snorted and slid down to sit on the grass. “They’re the same,” he said, leaning his back on the tree.

Nico followed Will, sitting on the grass. “It will always be football for me,” he said. There was a melancholic tone lacing his voice. And it made Will wonder, maybe it’s something that Nico used to play. In the streets in Venice, when he was just a kid who had no idea that Greek gods and goddesses were real.

“We, David and I, we were talking about playing here. I mean, it would be great, you know? David said he played midfield. I’m usually,” Nico paused, but quickly continued. “I mean, I used to play as a striker. If we can connect well, that would be really cool.”

Will closed his eyes while his stomach churned with a strange, unpleasant feeling. So, not only was this David kid good in sword-fighting, he’s good in soccer too?

“Do you play too? I mean, you can be the goal keeper. I guess you would be great. I mean, you’re tall and it would be a great asset for a goalkeeper.”

Will huffed. Stuck between the goalposts while watching Nico and David scoring goals? Yeah. No, thank you.

“We’ll see about that,” Will said, still with his eyes closed.

For a while, none of them said anything. Will opened his eyes when he heard Nico sighed. He turned his head, watching Nico stand up. Nico brushed his pants, and gave Will a small smile.

“I’ll see you around, Solace.”

Will wondered why that smile looked a bit strained, but returned it anyway. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”

He watched as Nico walked away.

Someone would be a good guy for Nico, he thought. And even though Will was a good guy, maybe he just wasn’t good enough. So of course, someone would be a good guy for Nico. Someone else. Not Will.

***

Will didn’t even know why he was here, standing awkwardly near the table where the food and drinks were.

Oh, yes. Because Cecil and Lou Ellen practically dragged him here, to this stupid Halloween party organized by the Aphrodite Cabin.

It’s not that Will disliked Halloween. And it wasn’t like he hated Halloween parties either. What he didn’t like, was seeing Nico talking with David at the other corner of the room. Just looking at the sight made a strange, nauseating fire flame inside of him.

“Pining over di Angelo again?” Lou Ellen nudged him on his shoulder.

“Yeah. How long are you going to act like this Will? Playing it cool while we all know how you wish you’re the one talking to di Angelo instead of David?” Cecil joined Lou Ellen in interrogating Will.

Will only rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about,” he mumbled, and took another sip of Coke from his cup. He tried to watch the campers who were dancing in the middle of the floor. Some kids from the Hermes cabin somehow got a hold of speakers. And of course, with a little help from the Hephaestus kids, the party had a cool sound system that was now playing pop music.

Lou Ellen sighed. Will stole another glance at where Nico was standing. David was leaning a little to whisper something at Nico. The proximity between those two made it a little bit harder for Will to breathe. He wondered what it was that David was telling Nico. But then Nico turned his head to Will. And no matter how cliché it might sound, Will’s heart skipped a beat when their eyes met. Will quickly looked down to the floor.

Next to him, Lou Ellen clicked her tongue.

“You know what? I can’t take this anymore. It’s been MONTHS. This has got to end tonight,” she said. Ignoring Will’s protest, she grabbed Will’s wrist and pulled him along with her, walking towards Nico and David.

A few seconds later, Will was standing with a flustered face in front of Nico and David.

“Hey, Nico, David! You guys enjoying the party?”

David gave that half-smile again. “Ah, yes. The party is nice.” He angled his neck just a bit so now he was looking right at Will. The half-smile subtly transformed into a knowing smirk. “And you? You… You are the healer, yes? Will?”

Will forced himself to smile politely at David. “Yeah. That’s me.”

David gave a single nod. “Nico talked a lot about you. A lot of good things.”

Will blinked. His eyes darted to Nico, but the raven-haired boy looked away from him. Still, his cheeks were a dark shade of red.

“Is that Cecil over there? I think I want to talk to him,” David suddenly said as he pointed at Cecil with his chin. “Lou Ellen? Come with me?”

Lou Ellen grinned as she nodded and made a 90-degree turn on her heels. “Yeah, come on, David. Let's leave these two idiots.”

And just like that, they left Will again, standing awkwardly less than two feet away from Nico.

“Uh… I didn’t expect to see you here,” Will said.

Nico turned his head at Will, an eyebrow slightly raised up. “Oh? I thought you were the one saying that I need to work on my social skill.”

Will gave Nico a small smile. “Yeah. So. Good to see you here, then. I mean, for your social skills and all.”

Nico stared at Will. And there was just something behind those dark eyes. Something that Will couldn’t put into words. Something that made him unable to look away.

“Aren’t you going to ask me to dance, Solace?”

The question got Will off-guard. Of all the questions in the world, it’s probably the most unexpected one.

“Huh?”

Nico held his eyes at Will’s for another second, but then he looked away. “Never mind,” he said, half-mumbling. His cheeks blushed again into dark cherry color.

“But… do you want to, though?”

Nico’s head turned back to Will. “Want to do what?”

“Dance? Do you…want to?”

Nico bit his lower lip and he looked down for a second. When he looked up back at Will, his charcoal eyes were soft.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On who’s asking me to.”

Will’s heart started to jump around in his chest.

“What if it’s me asking you?”

The eyes that were staring back at him were now smiling.

“Then I guess, it depends on the song, then.”

Will’s heart was probably doing some crazy somersaults right now, but his lips curled up without him even thinking about it.

“Well, it’s my favorite song that they’re playing right now. I hope it suits you?” he asked, carefully offering his hand.

Nico’s smile was as soft as the look in his eyes. And the moment their fingertips touched, Will’s heart soared high and suddenly his chest was filled with warm, light air.

As Will led Nico to the floor, he thought about how long he has been wanting to do this, to hold Nico’s hand in his.

They swayed along with the music. Nico’s left hand felt perfect in his right hand. Will’s left hand rested on Nico’s hip and Will couldn’t care less about the other people dancing around them.

“Your dancing is better than your singing,” Nico said, a playful smile on his lips.

Will chuckled. “My grandma said a real Southern gentleman must know how to dance. And I remember my Mama dancing with me when I was a kid.”

“Your Mam raised you well, I have to say.”

Will hummed. “I’m a good mama’s boy, I can promise you that.”

“I can see that, Will. Everyone can see that.”

“See what?”

“That you’re a good guy.”

This time Will held his eyes at Nico. “I try to be,” he said. “But… Would I ever be good enough for you?”

Nico huffed. “And you said I was the dense one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Nico stopped, but his feet kept on moving. He sighed. “Gods, do I really have to spell it out to you?” He asked, sounding exasperated as he looked away from Will.

Hope bloomed inside of Will and he grinned and oh, how he wanted to shout and laugh. He took his hand off Nico’s hip so he could gently cup Nico’s cheek, guiding him to face him back.

“Do you mean you like me?” Will asked.

“Well, do you like me?”

Will chuckled and he could feel a stupid smile creeping in. “Why do you even have to ask?”

Nico shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Because you’re nice to me but you’re also nice to everyone? Because you don’t seem to care even if I talk about someone else? Because you…” Nico stopped again and shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe because I just…don’t know?”

Will squeezed Nico’s hand just a bit tighter. “I was just… I was just afraid that I’m not good enough for you.”

Nico rolled his eyes. But his lips twitched, like he tried to hold back a smile.

“You’re a good guy, Will. You’re a good guy to everyone. But sometimes I hope that you can be my good guy.”

It’s like a thousand birds were singing inside of Will now as he felt like he was floating in this bubble of happiness.

“Then I’ll be yours, Death Boy.”

Will wrapped his arms around Nico, and pulled him into his embrace.

“I’ll be your good guy, then. I’ll be your everything.”

Nico pulled himself a little away from Will. He looked up at Will and the light in his eyes was like the most beautiful star in a dark night.

“Everything?”

“Everything. Anything you need.”

***

Additional Author's Notes: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :). Reblogs, replies or any other feedbacks are much appreciated. Also please don't forget to check out the zine!!!

[bigskydreaming]

Okay but imagine a Freaky Friday scenario back when Bruce and Dick were originally on the outs and Dick was with the Titans full time.

Something incredibly plot contrived happens and whammo, eighteen year old Dick wakes up in Bruce’s body with Jason just down the hall....still new to the Manor, filled to the brim with trust issues and other shit Dick can relate to and brings back memories of his early days in the Manor and how hard Bruce worked to make Dick feel comfortable there, thus priming Dick with Nostalgia thoughts and like, I miss THAT guy, where did that version of my dad go and is he still in there....

And additionally, when further contrived plot contrivances conspire with dastardly deeds that force Bruce and Dick to stay in each other’s bodies for like a week or two until they can change back, and like, cosplay as each other because they both have responsibilities that can’t be avoided....like, Dick is forced to temporarily act as Jason’s guardian and like.....there’s character development and personal realizations and building a connection based on common ground and shared experiences even if they aren’t perfectly parallel, much like Bruce built his connection with Dick based on the common ground that was the murder of their parents, and like.....opportunities for all the above are just ripe for the picking.

And meanwhile, Bruce wakes up in Dick’s body and is like.....wut. But being Bruce and having developed eighty million contingency plans even for off the wall hypothetical scenarios, he like, has a plan in case something like this ever happened.....and then he’s smacked in the face with the realization that coming up with an idea on how to deal with a situation you have no actual knowledge of or experience with is not like....a sturdy basis for assuming your approach will be any kind of effective at all. And so Bruce is forced to consult ACTUAL experts with this kind of shit, like Zatanna and Constantine and Dick’s own teammates Raven and Lilith, and grumpily acknowledges that the safest thing for them both is to wait this out and go about each other’s lives as much as possible, like Alfred and Jason and the Titans and the JLA are all in the know, its just....weird. 

And Bruce is uncomfortably aware that he’s surrounded by people who know Dick even better than him at this point, and who are not his biggest fans as a result....and then blow-ups have him trying to defend certain choices....only to realize that when faced with people who are not emotionally invested in a connection with him which they’re afraid to lose by pushing too hard....that like heeeeey, maybe certain choices were not as good as he made himself believe at the time. With this budding epiphany then nurtured by his growing awareness that he’s been treating this whole thing as an inconvenience, like its a waste of his time to be with the Titans when there’s REAL work he could be doing - only he just can’t convince himself of that anymore after being shoved into battle alongside them and seeing them in action from WITHIN their group....rather than looking down on them from a self-assumed pedestal of experience and greater wisdom.

Like, they know what they’re doing, they’re not the kids they started out as and hell, they knew what they were doing even THEN, that’s how they GOT to this point in the first place! They were never actively guided or trained as a TEAM by the older generation of heroes, and they’ve always had an entirely different dynamic with each other than they’ve had with their own individual mentors. And by watching them in action close up, seeing how well they gel and recognizing how much of their strategy and approach to things likely came from Dick sharing his own training with them just as they shared theirs with him and gave him insights and skills that even Bruce doesn’t have because it wasn’t Bruce who taught them to him...

Like, seeing how often they instinctively glance towards Dick for direction and the implicit trust in those gazes, as well as being forced to acknowledge how competently they roll with the reminder that it isn’t Dick and they have to coordinate for themselves because Bruce is the odd man out here no matter what face he’s wearing...

It’s like. Hmm. Epiphanies. They are happening.

And then you’ve got Bruce noticing how much they look out for each other - and him/Dick in particular because of how off balance he is at this time- so he additionally gains an understanding and appreciation of how Dick’s just as safe, if not more, with the Titans as he’s ever been at Batman’s side....

And then he gets a firsthand experience with The Chafing that comes from being smothered and overprotected by people who no matter how well-meaning or concerned they are for his - or well, just his body’s maybe, lol - safety, like, they seem to have no regard for him trying to remind them of his own competency and skills and how he can look out for himself. And since refusing to see or acknowledge that is half the basis for the conflicts that get between him building at least some kind of rapport with the Titans while stuck in this situation...well...

Again. There are. Hmm. Parallels perhaps. To his own relationship with his eldest son and their frequent conflicts.

And so opportunities abound for Bruce to be reminded just how skilled and capable - and needed and appreciated - his son is....as well as how Bruce being on the receiving end of various attitudes or views he’s expressed to Dick, like, might help make him abundantly aware of just how badly that’s probably been going over with Dick, like what all that must FEEL like to Dick and how it appears when viewed from his POV, and how all of that has contributed to the growing divide between them....and thus like, this might hopefully inspire him to like...not do that anymore. Ideally.

And then the plot contrivances wear off and they get shazamed back into their normal bodies and any attempt they might have made to pretend that never happened and just get back to normal is promptly slapped down by the others in their lives, who are just like, lol, no. We’re not doing that. This was weird, it happened, it was a whole thing, deal with it.

Forcing them to, y’know, deal with it. Helped along by some of Bruce’s Intimidation Quotient, such as it ever was, having worn off the Titans during his stay among them, so he starts getting bombarded with texts, calls, and speedster drop-ins like hey, didja adopt your son yet, Bats? How about talk to him. Did you do that at least? Did the word sorry come up at all? C’mon, we PRACTICED this.

Whereas Dick’s walk down Memory Lane via his time spent strolling through the halls he grew up in but from the POV of retracing Bruce’s decade old footsteps rather than his own - well, that did a lot to lower the drawbridge on the emotional barriers he’s built up to protect himself from further let-downs when it comes to his relationship with Bruce....helping to make him more amenable and receptive and optimistic about it being worth getting his hopes up one more time that the space between them can still be bridged.

Anyway. Just a random scenario I guess. Barely thought about it at all. 

[jess-the-vampire]

honestly i’m not even sure i should be talking about it, i guess i just feel better to mention it then bottle it up to people who might be wondering

personal stuff under the cut

i’ve had some people recently try to send me moringmark comics, or link me to posts that he’s made and so on and so forth and  it’s cool and i appreciate it cause i love when people send me to new works and stuff.....i just wish i was able to really respond to them like i can with others.

mark blocked me guys, at least here on tumblr (Everywhere else i’m fine for some reason), i can’t view any posts of his and haven’t for awhile.

While we were friends a few years ago, but things have changed since i was helping him with his star vs comics.

back a few years ago when mark’s tumblr got randomly deleted, i was trying to contact him to make sure he was ok and nothing happened and all that and....ever since then he’s never spoken to me.

He kinda...ghosted me, and he has since then.

this was our last exchange:

I never got a reason why, one day we were talking fine and the next he was well....not speaking to me. I didn’t want to spam him so i would try again every few days, then weeks, then months....just with conversation starters....nothing accusatory, i just wanted to check up on him and everything.

I tried contacting him on other Sms and everything but i never got a response, and for awhile i thought maybe he was busy and i was kinda sorta bothering him so i gave him space and tried again months later.....and yeah, he never said anything.

i tried sending him apologies if i said something wrong, i tried asking if he wanted to talk and see what was happening, i was willing to accept if maybe i had said something hurtful and he no longer wanted to be in contact with me.

Because maybe i did at one point and if i did i wanted to own up to it to him because i liked being his friend and wanted to keep being his friend.

but as far as i can tell we had nothing but polite conversation with each other.

And after awhile it started to feel, at least to me, like he was purposefully shoving me to the side and ignoring me. First he stopped following me, then he had a whole comic about the art programs he was using which felt awkward to me because i was actually the person who introduced him to medibang 

not that i needed to be credited for it, obviously, i guess it just felt weird at the time when he mentioned how much he loved it and then just never mentioned i had been the one to introduce him to it. It only came off as weird as it did because i was being ghosted, i probably wouldn't have cared at all if we had been still in contact.

it kinda makes looking at any comics i ever do get to see of his surreal, because i think to an extent “i helped make this.”

I guess it hurts more now looking back, because now i just kinda feel.....used.

Because i never was told why i was being ghosted i’ve been just kinda left to speculate what i did, and sometimes when you’re left thinking like that your mind makes you wonder if he was never my friend in the first place.

or if i felt differently about the friendship then he did.

i helped with ideas for his star vs comics for awhile, got him into a new art program, then all of a sudden he just.....pretended i didn’t exist....it’s...y’know, sad and makes you think.

And it’s upsetting too because i had a very positive experience working with mark briefly, talking about the show and ideas for projects, when this happened i was heartbroken.

Also he never really finished that specific comic so i don’t know if i should be credited for the help exactly, i don’t know if he ever got to most of my ideas.

at most i helped him find artists and their ocs for him to draw and that was the biggest contribution i had that i can at least recall.

Point being tho, it felt hurtful to me, because of course it feels hurtful to feel like you made a friend and helped them and then they pretend you never existed.

But even after this had been happening for a few years i still was giving him the benefit of the doubt because i still wanted to think i was misinterpreting the situation and maybe i still am....

but when i found out he blocked me now as well, i gotta admit, i lost faith on that.....

i only mention all of this at all, because i used to say i really respected mark like a lot, as a creator in the star vs fandom, and that’s still not entirely gone either....but i have to admit....i’ve soured on him....a lot since this happened.

i don’t want anyone going after him or anything (Though i doubt he’d listen to it anyway he’s got so much on his blog it’d drown in the notes, but still, don’t), i just wanted to address why you’ve never seen his content on my blog despite us being friends awhile ago, why i barely talk about him, why i may sometimes get uncomfortable when he’s brought up.

it’s been pretty upsetting tbh, because friends turning on me is something i’m uncomfortably used to happening and it gives me serious anxiety about me being a bad friend or hurting ppl because i’ve had so much bad experience with friendships with rather toxic ppl.

honestly if mark showed up today in my dms and said something to me and why he did all this i’d probably forgive him if he had a reason and i was just being silly or something. But because of how limited the information is for me, i’m sadly left to think of the worst and there’s not much here making it any better.

he’s a very creative guy and he does deserve his following.

but as is, i just wanted to address that our relationship as friends has changed a lot since i talked about it last and why things may seem off these days so people can get a better grasp on what happened.

i feel it’s better i address it then not address it.

the guy doesn’t owe me anything, i just felt personally betrayed as a friend that i at least wasn’t given an explanation for him cutting our relationship how he did.

it is how it is tho, he may never contact me again, especially now that i know he blocked me, and it does make me sad tbh. I did like being his friend and i wish we were still friends, but this seems to be out of my control, he pushed me away and blocked me for whatever reason and i’ve just had to deal with it.

i’ve been trying to move on from it, i have not attempted to contact him in over a year at this point, but it’s hard to avoid thinking of it when he’s as popular as he is.

but i hope this helps give you all an understanding on things and why we don’t seem to be as close as we used to.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I might be back on my bullshit thinking about Louis [as if I ever stopped] and episode 2 again. Like... there are a lot of things that could’ve been handled better when it comes to ep2, but can we just appreciate his apology to Clementine during the archery scene? 

[note: this turned into a bit of a rant, and for that, I apologize]

It still baffles me that he gets dismissed as a shitbird by portions of the fandom to this day for being upset with Clem and AJ when he just found out his best friend gave away the twins, murdered Brody and tried to pin it on Clementine to cover his tracks... only to then be murdered by AJ after he already gave up, shot him in the back of the head right in front of everyone and left Louis heartbroken and traumatized. 

Like I understand that some of y’all think Clementine and AJ should never be held accountable for anything they do and they’re always right, even when they’re in the wrong because you’re the player projecting yourself onto them and everyone who is mean to you is a stupid head unless they’re mean in the right way.

Or you’re one of those violentine stans who feels like the only way to validate your ship is to create this narrative that Louis is a traitor and Clementine would never love him after he voted for them to leave as if the only way you know how to make Violet look good is to make Louis bad by comparison instead of like... y’know, being one of the decent stans who explain and gush about the positives of the ship itself and why they love it rather obsessing over the other ship. 

Either way, you’re really gonna look at that situation of Louis reacting to his best friend’s death after what just went down and be like “calm down, Louis, you’re being a jerk :/” like.... I’m sorry? 

Aren’t you the same people who complained about Luke not giving a shit about Nick’s death back in s2? how he didn’t have a reaction? In fact, aren’t you also the same people who vigorously defended Kenny for his reaction to Sarita’s death after he lashed out at Clementine? Remember? When he yelled at her and called her a stupid fucking kid who thinks she can just get anyone killed and it’s okay because she said sorry? but it’s fine because Kenny’s reacting in a realistic way that makes sense for his character and he later apologizes for it? 

but now here you are, getting a realistic reaction out of Louis that makes sense with his character and all of a sudden, you don’t like it? You want him to just be like “Oh no, Marlon.... anyway.” Really?

Louis is hurt, he’s pissed and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s so shaken by what the hell just happened, Marlon’s dead body is bleeding out on the ground, Ruby’s talking about getting fucking medicine as if that’s gonna do anything, Violet waving her cleaver around at them even though literally none of them were looking at AJ they were all looking at Clementine, Violet you are not helping anyone in this situation, you’re only making it worse and adding to the aggression... but no, Louis shouldn’t be a fucking mess right now. He should just shrug his shoulders and be like “Welp, this is fine.” 

Then there’s the damn funeral. Look, Clementine and AJ shouldn’t have been there. I know they had to be for story purposes, but it’s such a bad idea that it makes Violet, the one who wanted them there, look like an ass who has no regard for anyone other than herself, Clementine and AJ, and those who agree with her... which is only Tenn and I guess everyone else sucks and their feelings are invalid because no one else wanted them there since it’s not a good idea to have Marlon’s murderer attend his funeral and if you believe that isn’t going to piss people off or make them uncomfortable, then either you don’t care or you don’t know how to read a room. 

And by the way, Louis wasn’t the one who suggested voting them out. He wasn’t even there when MITCH said they should take a vote and everyone agreed to it. So why is it that Louis gets all this blame for how the vote turned out? Oh, Louis is such a traitor because he’s the reason they got kicked out.... except no? 

First of all, if you’re so mad at Louis then how come you’re not mad at Ruby? She voted them out, too. So did Omar. They contributed to kicking them out. How come no one else talks about how much they hate them after they said having the vote was a fair idea and then voted them out? Oh, and Willy, too. Willy voted them out. The only other person who gets heat for the vote is Mitch, and he was the one who came up with the idea in the first place... but no one else, huh? 

Also, how come only Violet gets praise for wanting Clementine and AJ to stay? Never see anyone talk about how amazing Aasim is after he was the third vote for them. He has legit reasons for wanting them around, too, but he didn’t want them at the funeral either so what, does that cancel out his vote for you? Where is the Aasim love? 

Then we got the dorms where Louis and Violet come to escort them away, and once again, I have to mention that both of them are wrong in this situation. They’re on the extreme opposites where Violet thinks they should stay because they didn’t do anything wrong, and Louis thinks they should leave because AJ’s dangerous. Both of these view points make sense with their characters.

However, I guess some conveniently ignore how conflicted Louis is about the whole thing and how he’s feeling about it because it doesn’t fit with the narrative they’re trying to push about his character. 

Again, he’s dealing with a lot of shit right now only to be constantly invalidated by Violet, who keeps telling him what a shithead he is for hurting about this, how he’s just burying his head in the sand again and all this other shit, and he eventually snaps at her and says AJ’s dangerous, which hurts AJ and it’s all over Louis’ face that he realizes he snapped and he feels bad about it. 

But Louis never got aggressive with them, he never laid a hand on them, and he was there to escort them out in the woods. And that argument of “he sent them out there to die therefore Clementine and AJ should hate him, Clem shouldn’t want any friendly/romantic relationship with him because he put AJ at risk and got him shot” is.... I dunno, ugh? It’s ugh. You act like Louis did this to intentionally get them hurt when that’s not true. 

Clementine and AJ have survived on their own for years, so it makes sense that Louis would try to justify this to himself like “they’ll make it out there, they’ll survive because they’ve done this before... this is for the best for everyone” and no, him telling them that this is probably like going home for them isn’t okay, but it makes sense for his character because he doesn’t actually know how bad it is out there. 

None of them know, they’ve all lived in walls their whole lives. It’s naïve of him, yes, but it makes sense and he didn’t do this with shitty intentions of wanting them to get hurt. He didn’t know that Lilly and Abel would be out there, he didn’t know AJ would get shot, he didn’t know any of it. He didn’t think that if they voted them out, this would happen. He was struggling with his feelings about them and saying goodbye to someone he was starting to feel a connection with. 

And he let them back in. Hell, he carried AJ into the school himself when they showed up wounded and you still wanna call him an asshole and a traitor? He could’ve said nope, get the hell out. We kicked you out, you’re not welcome here. 

He didn’t do that, he ran to them to see if they’re okay, he brought AJ to Ruby and stayed with him the entire time Clem was in the office with Violet.... AND he apologized to AJ, quietly begging for him to be okay... and when he’s faced with Clementine after what happened, he doesn’t know what to say to her. He can’t even look at her because he feels so ashamed of himself and feels all the blame for this. 

This is a moment that ties back to backstory. Louis’ emotions overpowered him, he made a decision and now AJ is shot and bleeding on the couch.... when he came to the school, they [the staff, I assume] said these kids were bad people, they told Louis that he was bad after what he did to his parents and he internalized that, and this whole this just reaffirms that idea “I am bad, I hurt people, this is my fault.” He blames himself for everything even though there’s no way he could’ve known. You can feel Louis’ genuine concern for AJ and how he’s doing, but at the same time, he’s trying to distance himself from Clementine… and well, sorta failing since he brings her clothes and they have the conversation in the dorms. 

Then the archery scene.... y’know, the scene I was gonna make a simple little post about that somehow turned into this. 

Once again we have Louis and Violet arguing because that’s what they do now, and Violet continues to tell him to get over himself without listening to anything he says, and he goes to practice archery so that y’know... when the raiders come he can use a weapon to help defend them since he’s not very good with it and needs practice.

Clem goes to check on him, and Louis apologizes for voting them out, explains that when AJ shot Marlon, he blamed Clementine when that wasn’t the right thing to do. He had a lot going on emotionally on top of what was happening around him, but after having two weeks to work through things alone, even though he’ll never be happy Marlon died, he can understand why AJ thought it was the right thing to do... and if he could take everything back, he would. He knew that the moment they came back, and he still does. 

I just.... how often does Clementine ever get an actual apology from anyone who has hurt her? A real apology from someone who means it and then doesn’t just turn around and repeat the same hurtful actions? Like... it baffles me that people will look at this genuine apology and tell him to fuck off, but will accept and continue to adore someone like Kenny who will apologize for hurting Clem, only to never try to be better and ends up hurting her even more next time. 

Or they’ll accept and justify Violet’s last minute apology for punching Clementine in the face on the boat and putting everyone [including AJ, rememeber?] at risk of either dying or being made into brainwashed soldiers by the delta. 

They both have reasons for their behaviors and you’ll work your ass off to justify them, and I’m not saying your points are wrong or invalid, but you seriously won’t even try to extend that same thing to Louis? Why? 

Well, jokes on you because I too will work my ass of to talk about Louis and what he’s going through and that’s how posts like this get made. I know not everyone is going to feel that connection to him that I have, and you’re allowed to not like him as a character, but realize that I’m also allowed to give my perspective on his character and why I disagree with points posed by those who don’t like him. 

The archery scene is one of my favorites. It’s Louis and Clementine proving that they’re able to open up to one another and say they’re sorry, to forgive the other without being petty or holding it over the other to throw back at them the next time they argue. It proves that Louis wants to put in the effort to repair their relationship and atone for the mistakes he made, to step up and not be “bad” anymore. 

I mean, Louis says it best himself. Everyone heard the jokes and the piano, after that, they stop listening... a lot of people just boil him down to a funny man who never takes anything seriously and the only thing he could ever bring to Clementine’s life is a good laugh, but those who stuck with him and put an effort into building his and Clementine’s relationship know better than that. They know how much this apology in ep2 means even with the downer that the timeline of events rushes everything a bit. 

The fact that Louis doesn’t have this big ego that prevents him from apologizes, that he can forgive AJ for what he did and still build a strong relationship with both him and Clementine, that if you earn his trust he will follow you to hell and back, that he isn’t afraid to call Clementine out on her bullshit and doesn’t have a come apart when she does the same to him, that with her and AJ by his side he finally doesn’t feel alone anymore.... it’s all just so fucking good. 

I dunno, maybe you can understand why I get so ugh whenever I still see these same arguments about him being made with this double standard that doesn’t apply to other characters.

[miss-melon]

Headcanons of various Danganronpa males comforting an S/O who has problems with eating.

‼️TW: Mentions of an Eating Disorder/Body Dysmorphia‼️

So uh my body dysmorphia is eating me alive today so I thought i’d try writing this to make myself feel a little better.

KIYOTAKA ISHIMARU

•Taka was super concerned when he saw that you weren’t eating your lunch.

•“Y/N! You’ve barely touched your food! You do realize that you should eat 3 meals a day to maintain a healthy lifestyle right?”

•As much as you loved Taka, you hated hearing him say that. You just felt ashamed every time he scolded you like that.

•You couldn’t help but bury your face in your hands, you just wanted the time to pass quicker so this could all be over.

•When Taka saw you like this he looked at you with a face painted with worry.

•“Y-Y/N, what’s the matter? Is everything alright?”

•You told Taka about how you had always had problems getting yourself to eat and how right now you were a bit overwhelmed.

•Suddenly the worry on Taka’s face was combined with a look of shame.

•He felt extremely guilty that he contributed to your stress like this.

•You had to spend the next few minutes reassuring Taka that it was okay and you weren’t mad at him.

•From here on out, Taka never pressured you into eating or scolded you for not eating. In fact, he would help you by making an eating schedule for you.

•By no means did you have to perfectly follow this schedule, but it was easy enough that you would try your best to follow it anyway.

•Little by little you were improving every day with the help of Taka, and he was so incredibly proud of you.

HAJIME HINATA

•Hajime didn’t really think much of your eating habits at first.

•But one day he walked in on you in the bathroom standing on your scale with your face buried in your hands.

•“Uh... did I walk in at a bad time?” He asked.

•You looked over at Hajime clearly shocked, you didn’t even notice him walk in.

•You were so embarrassed that he saw you like this that you stormed out of the bathroom and went to your bedroom.

•Hajime followed you there and saw you sitting on your bed with your head down.

•You felt the bed shift slightly next to you.

•It took a couple minutes for Hajime to think about what to say, he wasn’t normally in a position where he had to provide comfort for someone. But he loved you so much and was determined to help you feel better.

•“Is... there anything you want to talk about? It’s okay if you don’t want to but... just know that I’m always here to listen, and I’ll never judge you for any challenges you might be facing either.”

•You told him about your negative body image and how you would take it out on yourself by not eating at all some days.

•Hajime sat there listening to you, not making any big reactions that might overwhelm you.

•After you finished speaking, Hajime wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close.

•You were shocked at this sudden contact because he wasn’t always the most physically affectionate person.

•“You know... you’re beautiful just the way you are. I want you to know that you don’t have to change yourself in any way because... you’ll always be good enough. Scratch that, you’re more than good enough! You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met! I love you so much and... I’m really sorry that I don’t show it as much as I probably should.”

•After his brief speech, he gave you a kiss on the forehead, which caused you to blush just a tad.

•From that day forward, Hajime started paying much more attention to you. Not in an overbearing way, but he just wanted you to know that he loved you very much, because sometimes you just needed that extra bit of reassurance.

RANTARO AMAMI

•Rantaro knew about your struggles for a long time.

•He often took the time to tell you how beautiful you were and how much he loved you.

•But sometimes that wasn’t enough to make you feel better about yourself.

•Rantaro would go above and beyond for you, this man loved you with all of his heart.

•He would cook meals for you that were always made with love.

•He never forced you to eat all of it, but he did have you eat at least some of it, the last thing he wanted was for you to go hungry.

•“Hey, you don’t have to eat all of it, but at least try to take a few bites okay baby? I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

•After you ate some of the food you would look at Rantaro, who looked back at you with adoring eyes.

•“Hey! Great job Y/N! I’m really proud of you... y’know what that means right?”

•“Cuddles?” You asked as you reached your arms out to your boyfriend.

•Rantaro nodded as he picked you up and carried you to the bed.

•You would spend the rest of the night snuggled up in your doting boyfriends arms, loving every second of it.

SHUICHI SAIHARA

•Shuichi had been gone all week working on a case, leaving you at home.

•While you occasionally had a snack here and there, you didn’t ever have a full meal, you always felt disgusted with yourself after eating anything.

•When Shuichi came home, he was extremely excited to see you.

•When he came into the room you were in and saw how you looked, he nearly broke down right there.

•He immediately rushed to your side and hugged you as tight as he could.

•“Y-Y/N... why d-didn’t you tell me y-you were struggling again... I-I would’ve came home earlier!” He couldn’t contain the tears anymore.

•Seeing him this upset got you super emotional as well, you began to sob into his arms as you hugged him back.

•“Shuichi I’m... I’m so sorry for making you upset with me... I didn’t- I just-” Shuichi hushed you by pressing his index finger to your lips.

•“No no no baby, I’m not upset with you. I-I just wish you would’ve told me, that’s all... please don’t ever think for a second that I could get mad at you...”

•You two just sat there hugging for a while until Shuichi spoke up.

•“P-please tell me whenever you’re having troubles with this... I-I want to help. Please promise me that you’ll let me help you... we can do this together.”

•You nodded in response, and from there on out, Shuichi helped you as much as he possibly could. With every improvement you made, your boyfriend was there to celebrate it with you.

THE END.

_______________________________________________

I was having my own struggles with this issue today and I wrote this to help myself feel better, I hope it can maybe help someone out there who is going through the same thing! Please remember that you’re beautiful and if you’re ever having a rough time, my DMs are always open! 💕

[roboticspacecase]

How about Bill teaching Dipper magic for the first time?

"Do we really have to walk out this far?" Dipper groaned, kicking a rock near his feet.

Bill snorted, not turning to face him as they walked. "If it were just me doing the magic, I'd say no, but seeing as you're going to be the one trying it out for the first time ever, I'm going to have to say yes. You're the one that tells me we're not allowed to kill people, so if you want everyone within a mile radius to not explode, then we shouldn't have you practice magic anywhere near them."

"If they could explode from me doing magic, what's stopping it from making me burst into a million pieces?" At least the trees above them were thick enough to offer shade. Dipper hadn't been out of the shack much since Bill showed up for the summer, so the sun wasn't something he was very used to.

They finally came to a stop and Bill leaned against a tree, motioning to a spot between two trees. "I'm able to protect one or two people from any magical mishaps, but not an entire town. Not in this form, anyway."

Thanks to the seal over the town, Bill was sort of cursed to pop up there every summer, never being allowed to leave. And, since his other physical form got ruined, he showed up in what was available. And that "available" thing happened to be a few various things like dolls and mannequins, all of which were super creepy over the years. Thankfully, after a while, Ford caved and made him a body using some of the cloning techniques that the weird manager of Sev’ral Timez used. Bill ended up with a body that slept through the winter and awoke in the summer, just as hot and violently blonde as he had been before he hibernated.

Dipper had been tasked to watch over him and spending so much time with the trapped demon had formed a friendship that turned into a sort of really messed up romance. Dipper knew it was weird, that most people would laugh then check him into a hospital for it, but he didn’t really care. He and Bill had fun teaching each other things, and that alone was enough for him.

“Right, right, you’re great and powerful but only when you can’t show it,” Dipper snorted.

“Whatever, just shut up and stand where I pointed. I’m going to teach you how to lift something small so that you don’t strain yourself.” Bill grabbed Dipper by the shoulders and positioned him between the trees, then pointed to a medium-sized rock a few feet away from him. “Magic is a little hard for humans, and the trees are going to act as a sort of lightning rod for you, so stay close to them and stop if you feel overwhelmed.”

Dipper nodded, looking at the rock and squinting his eyes. “Alright, so… What do I do? You want me to like, focus or something, right?”

With a snort, Bill put his hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “First, I actually want a kiss. Y’know, for agreeing to teach you this stuff.” His smile was so big, Dipper rolled his eyes and caved, giving the demon a quick peck to satisfy his request.

“There, done. Now how do I use magic? C’mon, I’ve been dying to do this, stop making me wait.” Dipper was whining, giving Bill puppy dog eyes to try and egg the demon on.

“Fine, fine. Take in a deep breath and just… Feel it for a second. The way that everything around you has energy. Every bit of this forest is alive and has the energy in it, try to tune into that.” Bill kept his hand on Dipper’s shoulder, his grip light and offering a bit of comfort for Dipper. Having the demon there in case anything went wrong kept Dipper calm and he was able to close his eyes, taking in a slow, deep breath.

The longer he focused, the more he could feel the forest hum like Bill had mentioned. The trees, the animals, the bugs; They all contributed to the sounds, the smells, and the feel of it. And every second he focused on it, the stronger it became.

“Good, good, now think about pulling some of that energy to yourself. Just picture it as if it’s something physical and you’re a sponge made to soak it up. Do that until you feel like it’s enough to lift the rock, then use the energy like a hand or something to pick it up.”

Dipper opened his eyes and did as he was told, looking at the rock and willing the energy around him to come towards him. He could just feel that it was something that he would need to practice, that it wasn’t something that came easily, but eventually he felt as though he had enough to move the rock and went for it.

Nothing physical actually came from him, no magically glowing hands, no gust of wind, nothing that would make someone realize that he was using magic to move the thing. While that was a little disappointing because it didn’t look as cool, he still managed to actually move the rock, just a couple of inches into the air, before his focus slipped and it dropped.

“That was amazing!” he cheered, looking at Bill with a large smile. “I didn’t hurt myself or anything, too!”

The demon smiled back at him, bringing him in for a hug. “You did pretty great for your first time. Y’know, for a meat bag.”

Dipper stuck his tongue out at Bill, leaning his head against his shoulder. “One day I’ll be stronger than you, just you wait.”

They both laughed, Dipper because he knew if he put his mind to it, he could do exactly that, and Bill probably because he didn’t believe Dipper. Regardless of why they were laughing, Dipper was still way too happy with himself to care. He had just used freakin’ magic and his nerdy heart was thrilled for it. “Can we keep practicing? I want to get a decent grip on it before the long walk back home.”

“Might as well since we’re out here.” Bill stepped back from Dipper, leaning against one of the trees. Despite seeming worried at the start, the demon looked much more relaxed, like he knew Dipper could handle himself now and it boosted Dipper’s confidence even more, his smile growing wider as he took in another deep breath. “Let’s see what kind of things you can do, Pine Tree.”

[leejungchans]

— snippets of juliet on the kpop daebak podcast (ii).

word count: 2.9k

warning(s): mentions of hate comments and self-deprecating thoughts (people were mean to juliet ☹️)

notes: split into two parts bc i didn’t wanna overwhelm anyone ahdjhwjs 💀

set in late november 2020

summary: more snippets of juliet on the kpop daebak podcast with eric nam.

part (i) here!!

juliet’s masterlist | jumbo ask game

ERIC: I don’t know if you’re tired of answering questions like these, but since it’s not super common in K-pop to have co-ed groups, let alone ones with such a...

JULIET: Like... an unbalanced ratio between male and female members?

ERIC: Yeah! So people must be super curious about how your dynamics work. Like, how did you join the group? Or if it’s difficult living with eight boys?

JULIET: Honestly, not really. They’ve all just been incredibly sweet to me since the first day we met, and we all respect one another’s boundaries well. I also get my own room at our dorm, so that makes it even easier to maintain privacy.

ERIC: What do you guys like doing when you have spare time?

JULIET: Not the mafia game.

ERIC: That’s oddly specific and very resolute. Why not?

JULIET: It’s kinda... [laughs] banned from our dorm?

ERIC: [laughs] Why? What happened?

JULIET: The thing is, all nine of us are really competitive. So uh... some of us weren’t sleeping, some of us were about to fight the others, our managers got wind of this and they were like, “You guys are not allowed to play mafia without supervision!” [laughs]

ERIC: What about in the beginning? Like, when you first debuted? What was that like?

JULIET: Ooh, yeah, that’s a good question. I hate to be a Negative Nancy, but I also don’t want to... hide what was going on when I debuted with the boys, because at the end of the day, it’s something that’s happened to me and... contributed to who I am today, y’know?

ERIC: Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, feel free to share whatever you’re comfortable with.

JULIET: Thanks. So... the attention was pretty overwhelming because as I mentioned, I was on MIXNINE, so people who watched it kinda expected me to debut in a girl group. So when they, or just the public in general, found out that I was in the same group as eight boys and we would be living together... things got pretty tough because there were just a lot of accusations thrown around. Like, what I might’ve done to debut with a boy group, or how my relationships with my members are... all that kinda stuff. It really took a toll on me.

ERIC: Right, totally understandable.

JULIET: Like, don’t get me wrong, I understand the shock people probably felt, but seeing all the things said about me that weren’t true... just really sucked. And for a few months there was this feeling of, “Oh, people are right. What am I doing here in this group? Why should I be here when all I’m doing is dragging them down? Would people even like me, or would they just ignore me and pretend I wasn’t a member?” Those kinda things... Of course, things got better with each comeback, and I’m so grateful that our fans... you know... like me [laughs] instead of being like, “Leave the group! You don’t belong here!” Yeah...

ERIC: How did you deal with that?

JULIET: It just takes time, I guess. Like eventually, I learnt to just ignore the harmful comments. But also, a few months after our debut, I—I don’t remember if I was crying—but I was in a video call with my parents, basically just telling them what people were saying about me and how undeserving I felt, and my dad looked me straight in the eye and said to me, “If they don’t know you personally, don’t take it personally.” And since then, I try to tell myself that when I find myself dwelling on that kinda stuff.

ERIC: Your dad’s very wise.

JULIET: That’s where I get it from! [BOTH laugh]

ERIC: Did your members know you were going to be added into the lineup, or was it very last minute?

JULIET: I wouldn’t say it was last minute—

ERIC: Ah, okay.

JULIET: —our CEO asked to see me one day, and he told me he’s been monitoring my performances both in training and on MIXNINE, and said he thought I had potential and that I’d mesh well with the boys, so he asked me if I wanted to be in the group with them.

ERIC: And you said yes.

JULIET: Yes, but—well, at that moment, I told him I needed some time to think, and the first thing I did was go to Hongjoong because I knew they already planned for him to be the leader. And I was just like, “Hey... this just happened and I just wanted to let you know, and maybe ask if the others are okay with me joining before I tell the CEO of my final decision.”

ERIC: What did he say?

JULIET: He said something along the lines of, “Oh, we all know because the company already approached us about this, and we all have no problem with it. So it’s up to you if you want to join the group.”

ERIC: You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but what if they didn’t know about it beforehand, and they were like, “Uh... actually we’re not really on board with this.” Hypothetically, since you said you wanted to make sure everyone was okay with the idea?

JULIET: Yes, definitely. We were friends before the lineup was decided, but of course, it’s one thing being trainees together, and another thing debuting and being in the same group. If they weren’t okay with it, then I would’ve said no and maybe waited until our company debuts a girl group or decides to debut me as a soloist.

ERIC: Oh, you would’ve said no?

JULIET: Yeah... because it wasn’t like I didn’t have a choice. I was given the choice of whether I wanted to join the lineup or not, and if my members weren’t comfortable with it, then I wouldn’t have insisted on doing it anyways if I knew it made them feel that way. So... yeah, if they made it clear that they weren’t on board, I would’ve respected that and told the company that I’ll wait another few years. No questions asked.

ERIC: That’s a very considerate way of thinking. Thank you for sharing that.

JULIET: Aw, it’s okay. But I think that applies to basically everything, honestly. Like, if someone tells you, “Please don’t do this, it makes me uncomfortable.” Then just... don’t do it, y’know? Like, be respectful.

ERIC: Definitely. I’m assuming you get along well with your members?

JULIET: Absolutely! There’s no doubt about it. As I said earlier, they’ve been nothing but kind to me since the very beginning, and at the end of the day we’re really like a family!

ERIC: You mentioned earlier that if you didn’t debut with ATEEZ, you probably would’ve debuted in a girl group or as a soloist. Was any of that confirmed?

JULIET: Uh... not the girl group, because when I was training with my members, I was still the only female trainee there, and there was no telling if any other girls would be joining the company. But... uh, yeah, there were plans for me as a soloist if I chose to not join ATEEZ’s lineup, but that would probably take place a few years later.

ERIC: If you’re given a second chance to pick, would your decision be any different?

JULIET: No, definitely not. Knowing that I now share this strong bond with my members, and that I’ve met so many incredible ATINY from being a member of ATEEZ... I wouldn’t give that up for the world. So if someone came to me and was like, “Hey, you can pick again: soloist or stay with ATEEZ?”... I’d pick ATEEZ in a heartbeat.

ERIC: So we actually have some questions from fans—

JULIET: Let’s hear ‘em.

ERIC: This one’s from Twitter. “What do you do when you feel sad? Do you have any tips for dealing with those feelings?” We’re starting off with the deep questions!

JULIET: Hm... honestly, my tip is... let yourself be sad. I used to beat myself up a lot for being upset, because sometimes it almost felt like I don’t deserve to complain or to be sad, and that usually just sends me down an even deeper downwards spiral.

ERIC: Right.

JULIET: So... it’s okay to not be okay. And it’s okay to take as much time as you need to process and heal from what’s troubling you. I find that it really helped me when I... validated my emotions, especially the negative ones, even if it means I’ll keep being miserable for a certain period of time. Because when I’m finally ready to move on, I’ll know that it’s because I’m genuinely ready, and not because I was forcing myself to accept something I may not be mentally ready to move on from. And that makes the healing process easier because there’s less of that... internal struggle. So... to summarise, take your time, you deserve to heal at your own pace, and I promise the world will wait for you.

ERIC: Wow... that was incredible. I really like that, you know, like the part about validating yourself even if what you’re feeling is negative. And also the last line—“the world will wait for you”. That’s so... uplifting. I think we can all take something from that.

JULIET: I hope so. And to everyone out there, you’re not alone. It can feel like you are sometimes, but you are loved and supported, and I hope you’ll remember that wherever you go.

ERIC: Second question from fans: “What do you struggle with most as an idol?” Guys—these questions are so serious!

JULIET: These questions will probably keep me up tonight because I’ll just be thinking about them nonstop. But to answer the question, probably the constant comparison.

ERIC: Ah, right.

JULIET: It’s not even the kind where people compare me to other people. Like... I kinda got used to that, which sounds kinda sad but I’m trying to not make it a sad thing? [laughs] I struggle more with it internally, like I compare myself a lot to other people, and sometimes it can... get to an unhealthy point really quickly. In this industry, it’s kinda hard to not... compare yourself to other idols, because... well, I don’t want to speak for anyone—

ERIC: Of course.

JULIET: —but from my own experience, it was kinda... ingrained that there will always be someone better, someone more talented than you are who is ready to take your place at any time. And I guess it messes with me a little? Because it will feel like I have this countdown above my head, and it makes me obsessively compare myself to other people when I shouldn’t be doing that and instead focus more on, just like, doing my own thing. So it’s definitely still a learning process for me, to let go of that mindset and achieve a sense of self-acceptance. But like I said in response to the last question, it takes time, and I’m going at my own pace in figuring that out.

ERIC: It all comes full circle.

JULIET: [laughs] Exactly.

ERIC: Last question: “What do you want for yourself? What are your goals as an idol?”

JULIET: Hm, for the group... honestly... I just hope that we can continue doing our thing, you know?

ERIC: Yeah, I get that.

JULIET: Like... I think we have a really good thing going on right now, and I don’t mean that in terms of just commercial success, but I think we’re at a place where we’re trying out different styles of music and just... yeah, doing our own thing. So I just wish all nine of us, as well as our fans, happiness and health as we go down this journey together.

ERIC: What about yourself? Like, individually?

JULIET: Well, also health and happiness, I hope! [laughs] But also, and I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because I’m an over-thinker like that—

ERIC: Same! I overthink everything!

JULIET: I know! Like, my brain won’t stop going sometimes, and my members have to be like, “Okay, take a step back, deep breaths, let’s go through this together.” But going back to the question, I want to—what’s the word... preserve? Yeah, preserve my morality.

ERIC: Oh, wow. Do you want to elaborate on that?

JULIET: Yeah! Like... it can be easy to lose myself especially in this line of work. Sometimes, I find myself desensitised to certain things, and that’s when I have to just... take a step back and reevaluate myself. So, yeah... I hope that I can always hold myself accountable; not take things for granted; remind myself of my morals and passions, stuff like that. Just... staying true to myself and extending compassion everywhere I go.

ERIC: That was very well put.

JULIET: What can I say? I’m an intellectual. [holds up peace sign; BOTH laugh]

ERIC: I love how you go from, just, this serene, eloquent person to—

JULIET: Chaos? [laughs]

ERIC: Yeah, but I like that! What do the kids say, I love that for you?

JULIET: Yes! Like, “I love that for you, sweetie!” You know, gotta have the best of both worlds. Hannah Montana reference there for the OGs.

ERIC: So, we also have some lightning round questions.

JULIET: Ooh, that’s fun!

ERIC: But before we do that, anything you want to discuss or bring up? It can be anything.

JULIET: Uh, I can’t really think of anything at the moment. Um... oh! We’re going to be on—wait, when is this episode airing?

ERIC: [looks to STAFF] Uh... next week?

JULIET: [gasps] Oh my God, okay, forget I said anything!

ERIC: [laughs] What?! What happened just now, Juliet?

JULIET: I was about to spoil something, but I don’t know when it will be made public, so I’m not gonna get into trouble! You’re not going to catch me slipping, nope! You guys will just have to wait and see! [laughs]

ERIC: [laughs] You looked so terrified for a second.

JULIET: Yeah, this is something I can’t reveal or I’ll get into huge trouble! I almost pulled a Tom Holland.

ERIC: [laughs] Anything else you wanna add?

JULIET: Nope!

ERIC: [laughs] Okay, then let’s get on with the lightning round questions. Favourite food?

JULIET: Tim Tams. My fellow Aussies will relate, I think.

ERIC: I’ve heard they’re really good.

JULIET: Heaven on Earth. I’m not even kidding. Like, for my birthday in June our staff stacked together Tim Tams as my birthday cake.

ERIC: Wow!

JULIET: One of the best things anyone’s ever done for me, I still think about it to this day.

ERIC: Favourite ATEEZ song to perform?

JULIET: Uh... Wave! It’s just a really cute and happy song and I can’t stop smiling during and after each performance.

ERIC: Favourite K-pop group?

JULIET: ATEEZ. [BOTH laugh] Okay, aside from ATEEZ... uh... Stray Kids! Chan, Felix, if you’re watching this, I miss you guys.

ERIC: Singing or dancing?

JULIET: Both!

ERIC: Fair enough! Morning person or night owl?

JULIET: Night owl. It takes... a village to wake me up.

ERIC: [laughs] Favourite movie?

JULIET: The Devil Wears Prada. Ugh, so good!

ERIC: Coffee or tea?

JULIET: Iced coffee!

ERIC: One person you’d love to collab with?

JULIET: Eric Nam.

ERIC: Aw, really?

JULIET: Yeah! Let’s make it happen sometime!

ERIC: On it. Your fans are... blank.

JULIET: Incredible.

ERIC: Aww! And Kpop Daebak is... blank.

JULIET: Also incredible.

ERIC: And... I think that’s all I have for you today! To finish this off, I have one more question for you. Don’t think too much about it, whatever comes to mind first.

JULIET: Okay.

ERIC: Did the chicken or the egg come first?

JULIET: Egg.

ERIC: Gotcha. Well, Juliet, thanks for coming onto this show!

JULIET: Thanks for having me! This was really fun.

ERIC: It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, speak with you. Any message to our listeners all around the world? Anything you wanna say, plug, promote? Go for it.

JULIET: The Devil Wears Prada. [BOTH laugh] In all seriousness, um... ATEEZ is always here for you, and a lot of exciting stuff is coming up, we’re just getting started. Also, thank you to everyone around the world who’s listening for... listening. [laughs] And thank you for being here. I hope you’ll always remember that you bring a lot of good to the world, even if you don’t realise it. The world is not the same without you, and to everyone out there, I see you, I hear you, and I love you. Stay safe, wear a mask, wash your hands, and look out for one another. I’m always wishing you guys the best and... yeah! Take care and again, I love you.

ERIC: That was... wow. [JULIET laughs] Think I almost shed a tear. Yeah... that was beautiful. Thanks again, Juliet, for joining us. If you guys enjoyed this podcast, please subscribe to us on whatever platform you’re listening on, whether it’s Apple, Google, Spotify... If you’re on Apple, please leave us a five-star rating and review. You can see the video of this podcast and our conversations at YouTube.com/divepods and YouTube.com/divestudios! We also have TikToks where we do... weird stuff—

JULIET: Do you do the Renegade there?

ERIC: [laughs] We will make a TikTok where we do the Renegade just for you! We have a Patreon where you guys can support us. So, again, thank you guys for listening, have a great week, stay safe, wash your hands, wear a mask! And we’ll see you next week on Kpop Daebak!

JULIET: Stay safe! Clean everything!

ERIC: Yup!

a/n: i hope some parts of this update can help a bit if you’re going through something, as i wrote those parts based on my own experience with my mental health. when i first heard the words “the world will wait for you”, it was from a friend i met on twitter and i remember just being in shock bc no one had ever phrased it like that to me, and her words have stuck with me ever since. i think it’s just really beautifully worded and conveys so much hope, and i wanted to share that with you guys through this update 💕

as always, let me know what you think!! please leave some feedback, and feel free to chat with me in my inbox. i love you and i hope you’re doing well 💕

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (02)

word count; 10,121

summary; after getting out to a rough call with newt, resulting in some unpleasant injuries, thomas jumps to a few conclusions.

notes; i don’t have anything to say here.

warnings; reference to violence, reference to gang activity, reference to injury.

“Can I have a cookie?” You motioned to the plate before you, and Fry never looked up from where he was working, nodding his head as he danced to the music in the kitchen, singing loudly to the song on the radio as he prepared everyone a lunch.

Picking up one of the biscuits, you smiled to yourself, before a hand was slapping on yours roughly, the biscuit falling to the floor, and you yelped, rubbing at the stinging skin of your hand as you looked up.

“Hey!” Brenda was cringing a little, seemingly feeling bad for her action, and you stared at the broken biscuit at your feet, before looking back to her. “What was that for?”

“They’re not real Oreos.” Your brows furrowed, looking at the pile once again as you picked up the abandoned one from the floor, walking around her to dump it in the bin, and she shrugged a little. “I filled them with toothpaste, to mess with Chuck. He always wants a snack after he finishes the chores, and Gally has him cleaning the bathroom.”

“So, why does he get messed up Oreos for that?” You questioned, following her to the couch as she grabbed her coffee and wandered away, and you settled in beside her.

“Because every candidate that comes through this house has to be pranked by everyone, it’s tradition. He won’t graduate until he has.”

You grinned, shaking your head fondly at those antics. “Okay, so what has everyone else done so far?”

A wicked look passed over her face, the room crowding with people and it seemed that everybody as gathering discreetly, seeming to know that there was going to be a prank going down. “Gally and Newt teamed up, they had Gally pretend to fall on a wet floor that he didn’t put a sign out on, and Newt faked the injury to be worse than it was. Poor kid freaked out.”

“Oh, that’s awful.” You bit at the inside of your cheek, trying to contain your laughter, and she shrugged.

“Thomas got a bag of dark brown dog hair from the groomers and tipped it over the shower door while Chuck was showering, he thought he was losing his hair, and he smelt like wet dog for days. He screamed like a little girl.” You laughed loudly at that one, unable to contain it, even if it was done by someone you hated because there was no denying that it was creative as hell. “Minho put slime in his locker, Frypan put bubble wrap in his boots right before a call, and he was popping with every step, hilarious. I don’t remember the rest.”

She waved a hand, sipping her coffee, and the room went quiet as an exhausted-looking Chuck entered the room, red cheeks from the exertion and sweating a little. The room went quiet, everybody’s gaze falling to Chuck discreetly as he crossed the room, and Fry kept singing.

“Oh, cool, Oreos. Can I have one?”

“Sure, kiddo.” Brenda piped up, and Chuck beamed, picking one up, bringing it t his mouth, before pulling it away, squinting slightly and frowning, and every breath in the room was held. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re kinda’ soft. Do you not know how to sore cookies?” He waited, before a smirk spread over his face. “Are these old? Like, really old? This is a prank, isn’t it?”

Her jaw dropped, and speechless for a moment as she fumbled for an excuse, and you cleared your throat. “They’re all good, I just had one. Probably just the steam from the kitchen.”

“Oh, okay.” He took you at your word, placing the whole cookie into his mouth and biting down, perfectly content for a moment, a few chews in, before his face was screwing up, and he was gagging, spitting the handful back out. “God damn it!”

The room broke out on raucous laughter, almost deafeningly so, and Brenda held her hand up to you, offering a high five for your contribution to the prank, coffee almost slopping over the edge of her mug form the ferocity with which she was cracking up in amusement.

“You all suck!” He spun around, fake anger in his tone as he grinned, pointing at you. “Especially you! I expected more!”

That only made everyone crack up a little more, and while it was still funny, it made you realise that he hadn't expected it form you, because you weren’t a real part of the team yet. You were still an outsider, you weren’t one who was expected to make pranks and join in with team activities, and your laughter dulled a tad. You weren’t angry or bitter about it, just a little disappointed at the flicker you found burning in your chest as you realised Newt had given you hope, and inspiration, his speech from only a week ago still tinging clearly in your mind, and you didn’t like that feeling, because getting connected to a team only made it that much harder when you were inevitably rejected.

He shook his hand off over the trash, a scowl on his face at the half-chewed snack that was scraped away, and Thomas came over, a smile larger than you’d ever seen him wear before, to lock his arm around the younger boy’s neck affectionately, knuckles ruffling his hair as he squirmed.

“Hey, Chuck, keep up this kind of morale and you’ll do great on squad.”

“Maybe he’ll choose to stay with truck!” Gally voiced, the room splitting wit amusement once again as an easy and lighthearted argument broke out, all in joked, about which team was better. Feeling a nudge on your thigh, you looked back to the woman facing you, her brows raised a little, sipping at her drink once again.

“What’s with the look on your face?”

“What do you mean?” You shifted to face her more fully, the crowds dissipating now the excitement was over, all going about their determined tasks, and she shrugged a little.

“You just have this look on your face. Like you’re happy but sad, nostalgic but bittersweet. You get it sometimes, when you’re looking at us all.” You sighed, not realising she was able to read you so well she was just like Newt, smart and intuitive, and you nibbled on your lower lip as you thought about your next words.

“It’s just nice to see you all like this. Happy and confident with each other, you’re a family.” You looked around, finding Newt, his attention focused on a conversation with Minho, and you remembered what he said, sighing a little as your mind was spinning and confused. “Maybe one day I’ll be part of that too, y’know?”

“You’re already a part of this family! You got a shirt with the logo on and everything.” You rolled your eyes at her joke, lips twisted into a gentle smile.

“No, I’m not.” She looked like she wanted or argue, but the look on your face silenced her, clearly not finished speaking. “I haven’t earned my way into this family, you don’t really know me, you don’t know if you want to welcome me yet. I’ll know when I am, if I deserve to be, I’ll know it.”

“You know, that's kind of poetic.” You scoffed at her claim, punching at her arm softly. “I think you’ll fit in perfectly, when that moment comes.”

You grinned, jaw dropping to thank her for her faith in you, before the alarm overhead was going off, and you were silenced, the room flailing to the same state, as you listened for what was happening. Only ambulance was called for, everybody else seeming t let out a sigh of relief, except for your friend across the room, who groaned loudly, before his chair was scraping across the floor as he stood.

“Up and at it, girly, let’s go!” He clapped his hands, and you struggled to unfold your legs to match his pace, his long strides already taking him to the door as you fumbled to follow him, his next words thrown over his shoulder; “I’ll start driving away without you if you don’t hurry up!”

“I’m coming, just wait!” You yelled, pushing through the doors as you grabbed your jacket, pulling the lightweight blue material up your arms, spinning around from backing out backwards, and crashing right into a solid wall. You groaned, stumbling a little, before a sneer was thrown in your direction.

“Watch where you’re going, would you?” The words were growled out lowly, Thomas stepping around you to continue on without waiting, and you huffed at his actions.

“It was clearly an accident!” He didn’t react, continuing to walk away from you, and your eyes were rolling before you could stop yourself. “Oh, get over yourself.”

He still didn’t reply, head held high, and that only irritated you more, as though you weren’t even worth his time, continuing towards the vehicle, engine already running from the second that your door slammed shut, Newt was putting the van into action. Strapping yourself in as he spun out of the firehouse courtyard.

Grabbing the monitor in front of you, the device was pinging with notifications, reading off every update that was coming in from the public and the police about what it was that the two of you were about to head into. It was a mess, you could tell straight from the off as reports continued to come in about what you were facing, skipping through it all to find details on what was actually calling you to the scene.

“Okay, we got a stab wound, it seems. A street fight, started between two guys, friends got involved, pedestrians got involved.”

“Probably some kind of gang activity.” Newt sighed, already seeming to prepare himself for the situation, and you weren’t unfamiliar with that kind of groups around this area, the rougher the neighbourhood got, the more vicious the groups became, and it certainly wasn’t a surprise as you began to pull through the harder-going roads.

There were blue lights flashing through the air before you’d even pulled up, crowds in the street, and Newt hit the brakes as he avoided hitting anybody, fighting to get through the scene. “What the fuck?”

The streets were blocked, you couldn’t even see the centre of the commotion yet, and a set of police officers came fighting through the crowds to find you. “I guess the fight spilled into the street, and cars got blocked.”

The second your window was rolled down, the noise became unimaginably high, screaming and shouting, the sirens of the cars going off and megaphones over the commotion as the police tried to break it all up. “There’s no way you’re getting through here, we can clear you a pathway, but it’ll take a few minutes, and I wouldn't recommend leaving your van in this area.”

You turned to look at Newt, his brow raising as you tried to work out what to do. Spinning your gaze back out across the crowds, you assessed the situation, barely even able to see the centre, and nobody was parting for the cars to get through, trying to create a pathway to get to the centre. The stabbing victim was undoubtedly going to be going to the hospital, and was likely going to be too injured to fight back through the crowds, and so the likelihood and needing the stretcher was raised high.

“You stay with the truck, I’ll go and do an initial assessment, drive up and meet me.”

“There is no way I’m letting you out alone in that. You’ll never make it out.” You huffed, but your lips flicked up a little at the edges form his concern, unbuckling yourself from your seat and edging yourself through the centre console to the back of the vehicle. “Come and sit back down, right now!”

“Someone’s gotta’ go out there, Newt, or we’re going to be answering questions on why we let someone die of a stab wound.” Lifting your bag onto your shoulder, you secured both straps over your arms, tight enough not to fall, and unlocking the back doors from the inside. “I’m already up now, you wanna’ stop me, you’ll have to catch me first.”

Hopping out and into the edges of the crowds you’d pulled up to, you made sure the latch was on, that the doors couldn't be opened unless it was by Newt himself, slamming them closed, and rounding the vehicle find the police officer who’d come to talk to you both in the first place. The blond was glaring at you from the driver's seat, shaking his head at your actions, even though you both knew it was the only way, and somebody’s life was on the line.

The crowds weren’t all that tough to get through at first, following the man in front of you, but as the crowds got rougher and the shouting got louder, you lost sight of him, trying to pick out the colour of his shirt or the hat atop his head, but it was impossible. Jostled from side to side, it got harder to fight your way through the hoards, and you were beginning to use your elbows to nudge people out of the way, fighting your way through.

An elbow, maybe a fist, you weren’t sure, but something solid collided with your side, a grunt leaving you as pain flared up, and you clamped your own arm down over the spot, pushing through the people. It was the first of many, your jaw clenches to deal with it as more spots across your body sparked with patches that would become dull aches in hours, the rioting growing stronger and more intense as the circle of people around you became a more personal addition to the aggressions. You’d have bruises on your shoulders later in the day, the abuse they were receiving as you tried to push through, one hand covering your face, and just like that, you were finding the eye of the storm, the battering you’d been receiving coming to a halt as you broke into the middle.

There was a man on the floor, everybody else being held back by police officers around the small scene, and you swallowed thickly, the barriers looking like they would break at any moment. You couldn't tell who was who, which of the men gathered here were friends of the man, and which ones wanted to kill him, and you were sure that the man who’d down the stabbing was probably in the crowds watching.

Kneeling beside him, you took in the scene, grimacing a little as your knee became sticky, the fabric covering it sticking to your skin with a growing stain as the pool of blood the man had released began to soak into your trousers. “Hi there, I’m a paramedic, and I need you to let me look, okay?”

His head turned to you, a snake on his lips, spitting blood at the ground by your body, and you sighed. Not a surprise, the gangs didn’t often take kindly to groups like firemen and the police, or the paramedics, being that they were mostly going against the law and the public interest, their own form of rebellion, and you did not serve those interests well.

“Alright, listen, you have two choices here.” He huffed, rolling his eyes as his head lay back against the concrete, blood seeping between his fingers from the wound as he coughed and your timer seemed to kick up a notch. “The police are holding these guys back, but I bet you can see at least one person out there who doesn’t want you to get better, am I right? Now, you’ve removed the knife, so you’re bleeding out, and nothing is stopping that, your hands aren’t even in the right place for putting pressure one it. So, either you get your hands out of the way and let me look, or you hope that you bleed to death before that wall breaks and someone comes to finish you off. Which is it going to be?”

He groaned, his body jerking and a cry leaving his lips as his hands fell away, and you nodded your head, a pair of rubber gloves being pulled onto your hands, trying to take a look. It was bleeding far too quickly for you to get any idea about what was happening, thick and dark blood, not the best sign, and you dragged a finger along his skin gently until you found the tear, the shrill cry he made signalling your location, and you measured it as best you could with your finger.

“Well, the good news is, your wound is only about a half-inch across, and it feels pretty clean, there’s no tearing. Smaller knife, huh?”

“Didn’t feel like such a small knife when I was being fucking stabbed.” He hissed, your brow raising, and you let out a light laugh.

“Oh, deadman’s got jokes, huh? That’s good, you’re holding on. for now.”

“If I’m a deadman, then you’re not very good at your job, are you?” His words were wheezed out, and you grinned, lifting his hand to place over the right place, pushing down on it roughly, and he cursed you in another language under his breath, gurgling a little as he did but holding the pressure.

“Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll have you fixed up real quick. You’re going to have to go to the hospital, but I’ll keep you alive ‘til then.” Slipping your bag down your arms, you opened it up, the first set you opened being a leather foldout of tools, unwrapping the knot and letting it fall open, filled with different instruments. With fingers hovering over them, bloody digits picking up a pair of scissors. Lining them up at the edge of his shirt, you looked back up to him, noting the way his eyes were rolling a little. “Hope you weren’t too attached to this shirt, because it’s not going to make it.”

He only grumbled, his hand barely flinching when you lifted it to place on the ground, and the speed at which blood was bubbling up from the gash across his flesh was slowing down, concerningly so. Cutting away his shirt, tanned skin was smeared with drying blood, a frown on your lips, and you hummed to yourself under your breath.

“You still with me there?”

He groaned again, and you hurried your work as much as you could. Grabbing at a handful of bandaging, you left it scattered across your lap, the first package being torn open and beginning to wipe up the blood that was seeping from his injury the rags becoming soaked as you worked, and as you cleared at the darker blood staining his skin, you began to reach the fresh red, lesser as you want, his skin paling around the sever in his flesh. Picking up his wrist, the veins were fading, no longer visible directly under the skin, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth as panic set in.

“Hey, c’mon, now. I need you to hold on for me, alright?” He twitched a finger, the hand laying on the concrete became a fist, and you picked up an antibacterial wipe, fingers shaking a little as you tried to open the packet, and it felt like the screaming around you was getting louder, everything going into overdrive. “Look, my partner will be here in one second, and we’ll get you on the stretcher, and get you to the hospital, okay?”

“Okay.” His words were raspy, laboured through the liquid building in his throat as he tried to speak, but you were relieved to hear anything at all.

“This is going to hurt, alright?” He didn’t respond to that, but he made what you assumed was supposed to be a scream as you wiped over the cut, apologising quietly as he thrashed with what energy he had left, and the movements caused a surge more blood to spew from the wound. Looking up, you found the front of the white van, your ambulance number printed in dark blue lettering across the front, a relieved sigh making itself known from your throat as the driver’s seat was empty, and Newt would be here in a moment. “Alright, we’re going to get you on a stretcher now, alright?”

“‘Bout time.”

You laughed breathily, his head twisting toward you, and a pang of guilt shot through you as you really took a moment to observe him. He couldn't be any older than fifteen, he was still just a kid, and you tried to suppress the nausea that was twisting in your gut at the idea of a kid dying on your watch. “When we do, we’re going to roll you onto your side, just for a split second. When we do, I want you to cough. Hard as you can. It’ll hurt, but we can get some blood out of your throat. Can you do that?”

His hand twitched again, wet breaths as he loved the fist to sit on its side thumb raising weakly to conform he understood in what was the most pitiful and depressing use of a ‘thumbs up’ that you had ever seen. Using one hand to put pressure on the wound, you tried to pack up your kit with the other, cries leaving him as he finally let his youth show through, not enough strength to hide it anymore and clean tears were being left along the dirt and blood on his cheeks from the tears that were rolling free, gasping for breath as he struggled to even breathe.

The shouting took up again, loudly, a sudden combustion of violent and terrified screams, you twisted your head to glance over your shoulder, catching a flash of movement, before a solid hand landed on your shoulder and you were being torn backwards, a yelp on your lips. You were steady, for only a moment, legs flexing underneath you s you were partially lifted from the flood in the grip, before you were landing on your side, your arm crossed under you and the bruised side of your ribs was battered even more, a pained scream, before it was cut off as the side of your head hit the ground to follow.

Your ears were ringing, head pounding from the collision with the pavement and eyes a little blurry as you watched the man who’d dashed forward be tackled by two sides of blue, pinned to the floor by officers as the crowd roared in a combination of thrilled and angered hollers. You groaned, every muscle in your body feeling weak for a moment, and your eyes watered at the burn along your side increased tenfold, now a throbbing agony.

A gentler hand now, rolling you over, and you blinked up at whoever it was, managing to decipher Newt as your vision cleared. His mouth was moving, and you could somewhat understand him, your hands finding the floor again as you pushed yourself to sit up, his hand smoothing around to your back as he helped you.

“Newt, get the kid.”

“Are you okay?” He persisted, the stretcher long abandoned, and you nodded your head, despite the pain it caused.

“It’s a kid, Newt! Get the kid, I’ll be fine.” He didn’t look so convinced, shaking his head a little, before you were pushing him away, taking a moment to catch your breath as it had been forced from your lungs, and he did as told. You heard the cough, and the velcro-sounds of the neck brace being put on him, the young boy groaning as he was moved, and you decided that if he still had the energy, then you did too.

Making a fist, you braced yourself for support, pushing up from the ground and staggering to your feet, feeling a little weak as the pain travelled your body, but you could handle it, and as the kid was adjusted on the strong yellow blackboard for the stretcher, you made your way to the other side. Taking a hold of one handle, and Newt stared up at you. His jaw dropped to argue, a slight shake of your head silencing him, and he frowned again.

“You ready?”

“Are you?” He retorted, and you locked your hands over the other handle, watching as he mirrored your stance, bent at the knees and ready to halt him up onto the trolley.

“Lift on three, alright?” He did the count down, and you bit on your tongue to keep your complaints and pain to yourself, lifting the board with the boy up and securing it onto the folding trolley, trying not to jerk him too much as you strapped him down.

“You know, it’s going to be worse getting out then it was getting in. Lotta’ them don’t want him to leave.”

You had already braced yourself for that, the back of the ambulance only ten metres away, and you had to reach it, strap him in, and get the doors closed, before you were safe and could get to the hospital. Pushing the vehicle along together, you were grabbed at, ducking fists and avoiding kicks as you struggled through. Newt moved first, unlocking the back of the van and rolling down the ramp again, grabbing the front of the truck while you pushed from the back, pulling him up until the wheels locked into their place.

He moved to the front, the engine starting up as you retrieved the ramp and pulled the doors closed, watching as hands were snapped out of the way when you showed no regards for trapping or breaking fingers. The second they were shut, you locked them, jerking a little and trying to catch yourself as the van went into motion.

Leaning over the boy before you, a hand on the top of the vehicle to hold yourself steady, you let out a relieved breath as he blinked, eyes turning to look at you. Your first move was getting a heart rate band on his arm pushing up his sleeve as the shredded material of his shirt hung open, and he didn’t even move as the cuff was placed around his upper arm, squeezing tightly. The machine above you clicked into life as it gained date, a steady and alarmingly relaxed heart rate ringing out, and you were determined to do something about that. Lifting down an oxygen mask and twisting the tank on, you lifted his head, securing the band around his skull and ignoring the throbbing within your own as the mask settled over his mouth.

Now, you could move to the wound. Barely patched up, the quickest job either of you could do in the middle of the riot, you had time to focus now, trying to hold yourself steady as your body trembled angrily and the vehicle swung around corners, sirens blaring as you rushed to the hospital. “Jeez, Newt, can you hold us steady?”

“Sorry! I’m trying!”

You only huffed, meeting his eye in the mirror as he looked back to you, a slight twinkle in them despite it all, raised at the edges to show a smile you couldn't see. Focusing back on the injured kid before you, the wrapping on his stomach was carefully removed, the bleeding somewhat under control, but you were putting that down to a worrying amount of blood loss, his sin going pale, eyelid drooping as he barely clung to consciousness, and you began to try and keep it as well closed as you possibly could while you approached where he could get real care.

Plastic stitches, strong enough to attach to either side of the wound and pull it shit, sticky and resilient on the hold, and they sealed it up enough to stop the copious amounts of blood that had been coming through, narrowing it down to small beads. Grabbing for a larger, cleaner patch of gauze to cover the injury, for now, you doused it with an antibacterial, the product being just wet enough to soak into his wound, before pressing it over his cut and sealing down to his skin, the paper tape fastened it and you let out a sigh of relief.

His heart rate was stabilising, it wasn’t ideal but he was at least reaching a level he could hold, and you slumped down into the seat as you felt newt begin to slow down, picking up the radio on his dashboard to call it in as the roads narrowed and became a little more calm, approaching the hospital. Newt was talking in the front, reciting everything that he could about the boy’s injury, and he wasn’t in much of a state to tell you much about his blood type or allergies right now.

A hand reached out, locking onto your wrist, and your eyes snapped up to find the young boy, his head rolled to the side to look at you, it was a weak grip, a somewhat distant look in his eyes, and you shook your head as you watched him reach up to try and remove the mask. Doing it for him, you removed it carefully, placing it over his chin, and he coughed a little with the sudden change in air consistencies, but it was a healthier and dryer sounding cough than it had been.

“Thank you.” You barely caught the words, your brows furrowing as you took a minute to decipher what he’d said, still not believing it when you worked it out, but the earnest look in his eyes said it all. Brushing some of the sweat and grime matted hair back out of his face, you sighed, placing the mask back over his mouth gently, and trying to offer him the most reassuring smile you could.

“You gotta’ get out of this lifestyle, kid. You’re young enough to change everything, still. You could still get good grades, go to college, do something great.” He stared at you, confusing flittering through dull eyes as you spoke. “You don’t have to still be doing this in ten years, you can stop.”

He shook his head, looking as though he attempted to speak again, and you didn’t allow it, knowing he needed to just rest for the final few moments.

“I know you feel like there’s no way out, and that the other boys in the gang are your family. You need a healthy family, a supportive family, not a family who let you get stabbed. I know a thing or two about taking any family you can get, but you have to find the right one, okay?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, looking away from you, and you were certain that you’d hit a brick wall, but his hand slipped down from your wrist to your own, squeezing tightly as he nodded his head, eyes sliding closed, and you could feel Newt’s gaze flicking back and forth to you as he pulled up to the front of the hospital, clearly having heard your words, but you never looked at him, keeping your eyes on the kid whose life you were saving.

The second that the vehicle stopped, you were out of it, like a flash, unlocking the doors and unrolling the ramp, freeing the stretcher wheels from their locks. Uncuffing the band on his arm and oxygen mask from around his head, it was left to dangle uselessly, cleaned for later so that you could roll him into the hospital. Two nurses met you at the door, taking the stretcher and walking him away, letting you spew off any extra facts you could think of, his eyes sticking to yours for a final moment, before he was disappearing behind a curtain that was dragging shut, and you could finally feel yourself breathe easy again as he fell into expert hands.

You let out a long sigh, turning to face Newt, who was in much the same position as you were; a little battered and bruised, totally frazzled, and in desperate need of a rest now.

“You ready to go?”

“Not ‘til you get checked out yourself.” He motioned a hand along your body, and you looked down at yourself, arms crossing defensively over your chest. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re going to say something like ‘they’re only bruises, Newt’ or ‘it’s not that big of a deal’, well, maybe they are and maybe it’s not, but we’re not leaving until you get it checked. I have this worry you, like, broke a rib, or something.”

You gaped at him, hating how well he knew you, and he smirked as he stared back, raising a challenging brow and crossing his own arms, completing the stare down, the battle of wills, that you were both having. He was just as stubborn as you were, unwilling to back down, and you gave in, rolling your eyes as your shoulders slumped. “Fine, I’ll get my ribs checked, but only if you get that ankle checked.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me ank-”

“So, you didn't get kicked in your bag leg while loading the ambulance? And, you haven’t been favouring the other since we left?” He scowled, throwing an arm over your shoulders and letting the slight limp show as the two of you walked over to the nurses’ desk.

“I don’t like how you turned that one me.”

“What are friends for, huh?” He turned to you, leaning against the counter as you aired for assistance, and he beamed.

“Oh, so you admit that we’re friends, now? You know, that’s one step closer to wanting to stay.” There were more words on his tongue, you could practically already hear them, something about a ‘family’ no doubt, a joke about the conversation he’d overheard between you and the patient, but he was interrupted before he could get the chance. A nurse he knew, sweet eyes and a name tag with ‘Allison’ written on, and she guided you both to separate beds, only a curtain to separate you, and yet as you rested against the cushions, you already felt like you could fall asleep right there, relieved just to get off of your feet.

Your head was hanging, eyes slipping shut a little, and you startled when the curtain was dragged back open, the metal hooks scraping over the bar holding it up, and you jumped, looking up at the doctor before you. Dark hair, tanned skin, and a sweet smile on his lips as he held his hand out to you to shake. His name followed, introducing himself as a ‘Doctor McCall’, and he pulled up a chair, the wheels rolling over the floor as he took a seat before you to let you explain what happened.

Undoing the buttons on your shirt, he shook his head with a bashful smile and a falsely judgemental eyes as he took in the extent of the damage, and as you looked down at the dark purple bruising beginning to spread over your skin, and the swelling taking lace, you realised you may have underestimated the damage. Perhaps it was a good thing to have Newt looking out for you. You weren’t used to that.

He pressed along your skin gently, the rubber gloves on his hands cold and making your twitch, silence going by for a few seconds as he tested your breathing, listened into your chest, and watched you raised and move your arms, trying to be honest about your pain when he asked, and when it flared up.

He decided you didn't have a broken rib, a diagnosis you were grateful for, because the longer it took, the more it felt like Newt may actually have been right. It was simply bad swelling, a collection that would take at least two weeks to start truly dying down, but you were cleared for duty as long as you tried to take it easy. He cleaned the cut along your hairline, paper stitches standing out in a stark contrast to your skin that you soon covered with your hair, and with a few painkillers in you and a schedule for more, as well as a prescription for some bruise cream, you were sent on your way.

Newt was already waiting, staring disdainfully at the contraption on his foot, and regardless of the pain it caused, you laughed loudly as he turned the glare and scowl on you. “I have to wear this bloody thing for a week, thanks to you!”

“I think you look stylish.” You teased, and he scoffed.

“It’s annoying already, and it makes my foot itch. I hate it.” You only rolled your eyes, but even at the awkward steps he was taking with the pressure-holding and padded velcro boot he wore, he was no longer limping, and that was a good thing.

“You know, I’m going to have to drive. You’ll press all the pedals at once with that thing on.” He looked like he wanted to argue, but could clearly tell you were right, and his shoulders slumped even further as you held out your hand, watching him fish through his pockets to find the keys, and handing them over reluctantly.

The ride back to the station was filled with music and quiet chatter, you telling Newt all about this kid and his sense of humour, and the great thing you thought he could one day do, and he was happy to listen, telling you about some of the other patients he'd worked on himself, as the current chart-toppers played quietly in the background, keeping your moods high and upbeat.

You couldn't deny that it was nice, to have someone to consider a friend, someone you could rely on, and with every case you worked - today’s in particular - you were finding yourself trusting Newt more and more. He was someone who made you laugh, he had a sharp sense of humour but gave you the harsh truths you needed, even when you didn’t want to hear them, and yet he still cared about you, that much was clear, and you were finding yourself starting to care about him, too.

You both groaned as you pulled into the driveway, watching the delivery truck for pharmaceutical supplies arrive, and it wasn’t a lot of boxes, but you still had paperwork and the cleaning of the truck to do, as well as unpack all the new supplies into the station medical kits and the van, and you stared at one another for a second. He offered his hands in a battle of ‘rock, paper, scissors’ for it, and yet you knew he wouldn't be able to handle it.

“You go inside, and put some ice on your ankle. Do all the paperwork, and I’ll sort the supplies and the van out.”

“Yeah?” He perked up a little at the offer, sitting up in his seat as you parked the van properly and handed him his keys back, both of you hopping out of the car, and walking around together to the front of the vehicle.

“Yes, I’ll go sign for everything and get them to bring it inside, you go find ice.”

He grinned, ruffling your hair with one hand, and you sighed, rolling your head from side to side to loosen the knots forming, before heading over to where the delivery man was waiting. As he began unloading the boxes inside of the garage doors, you checked over the list, ticking off in your head everything that had been gathered, and what they hadn't been able to get a hold of, signing your name at the bottom of several pieces of paper, and handing it back to him. He tipped his cap at you, a sweet older man that always made you laugh, and you waved him off as he left, hands falling to your hips as you stared at the boxes.

You were left with your thoughts, trying to come up with a game plan, and your body was desperately screaming out for a shower, when a loud shout of your name echoed around the bay, loud enough that you’d have been able to hear it from the other end of the station, your head snapping up.

Thomas was staring at you, pure fire in his eyes, that made you gulp, and he stormed toward you with determination, stopping a few feet away. “What the fuck is that?”

“Uh, supplies?”

“Not the fucking boxes, the boot on Newt’s leg.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, and everyone in the room who had been working on the trucks and the tables around fell quiet, the silence so tense you swore you’d be able to hear a pin drop. “He has a bad leg, you already knew that, and yet you let him get injured. What kind of fucking partner are you?”

“That’s not fair! We-”

“That’s not fair? No, what’s not fair is knowing that Newt has done everything he can to make you feel welcome here, to try and drag you kicking and screaming into a house you don’t want to be in, and at which you're not wanted, and this is how you repay him?” That stung, your jaw snapping shut as you swallowed thickly, eyes flicking over the other people who had all gone stock still, hoping if they just observed and didn’t get noticed, they wouldn't fall victim to Thomas’ sudden wrath too.

You got it, you truly did. Thomas and Newt were the best of friends, ever since they were kids. Newt had told you the story of how they'd practically been ‘friends since the sandbox’, and you did feel awful for what happened to him, but it wasn't your fault.

“You want to be a part of this team? You want to make it here? Then you need to start acting like a member of a team, and start looking out for people other than yourself.”

He stormed away, spinning on his heel, and your nails were digging into your palms from how tightly your fists were clenched. You weren’t going to make a scene, or breakdown and give him the satisfaction. Instead, you held your head high, making your way to the showers to be alone with your thoughts and wash up, to try and soothe the aching pains along your body, and the aching pain in your chest from his harsh words.

Turning on the hot water, your eyes squeezed shut, letting out a long and shaky breath as you tried to let go of your emotions. You were trembling slightly, unsure whether it was from the way you’d been spoken to, the events of the day, or simply the pain in your body, but dipping your head under the water, you breathed out happily at the hot water beating down against you.

You were tense, muscles stiff and joints practically locked as you tried to relax, and you could have dozed off from the very second that your eyes closed. It was a struggle to simply find the motivation to wash yourself off, water dripping from the tip of your nose and your shin as you looked down, eyelashes feeling heavy and clumpy as you stared at your feet, a tint to the water as the dirt often day washed off.

There was a cut on your knee, brushing along your thigh and your knuckles were torn from your collision with the ground, but luckily, they were all small cuts that would heal very quickly. The bruises would take longer, your side littered with them now, one big bruise that was stretching from your hips to under your arms, fanning around your stomach and as far as your bak in all different shades of splotchy severity.

It hurt to lift your arms and wash your hair, and it hurt even more to scrub your body, stretching muscles gourd and cleaning at the skin. When you finally got out, trying to rub some simple cream into you face and comb your hair, the edge of your t-shirt held between your teeth to keep it up as you stared at the markings in the mirror, a patch wiped in the steam on the glass to be able to see, a tube of cream from your personal medkit open in your hand, and you weren’t sure you even had enough left to cover a patch this large.

You gave it your best go, starting in the middle where it hurt the most and working out toward the edges, eyes lined with tears as your fingers pressed to the skin, rubbing the cream until it was warm and could distribute more evenly across your skin, pain flaring up with each patch you touched. It felt as though it was on fire, even as you lowered your shirt. That pain took a while to rescind, you had pulled on your boots and tied back what you could of the still slightly damp hair, knowing that you’d never be able to hold up a hairdryer long enough to get it dry anyway.

The speakers overhead chirped twice, a melody that was different to the alarm that asked you to go to call, but this one was something that always brought joy, telling you that it was time for you to go home. The end of the day, the next shift coming in, your team leaving as House ‘21’s Team Two came in to take over. You grabbed your hoodie from your locker, no longer needing to look as professional, but knowing that you still weren’t going home anytime soon, you needed to at least be wrapped up warm.

You still had supplies to unpack, and a van to clean, blood dripped on the floor and equipment to be sterilised, and as you left the locker room, you swung by the cleaning cupboard, a bucket of supplies under your arm as you went. A lot of your team were still hanging around as you exited, getting ready to leave as the first of the other team began to trickle in, making sure there were always enough people left here to hand over in case there was a poorly timed call.

The fire teams had it reasonably lucky, each team shared the same squad or truck vehicles, but the ambulances were separate, and so you’d only loathe yourself if you didn’t do it now, and had to come in early before your next shift to sort it.

Unlocking the back doors, you opened it up, unfolding the ramp and lifting each individual bottle out of the bucket to line them up along the back of the truck. The mop bucket was left empty, and you knew you’d have to clean the floors, but you wanted to get everything else done first. Stripping the sheets from the stretcher, still stained with blood, and the plastic sheet underneath too, you grabbed a new wrapping from the hatch over the bed, covering the simple mattress that was laid over the metal bars.

Dropping the dirty rags onto the cold stone floor outside of the van, you grabbed at a bottle of disinfectant spray, shaking it as you went, and popping the top off of it. You sprayed everything, covering the inside of the mask and the outside, every surrounding piece of equipment, anything the man may have touched, or that you might have while wearing bloodied gloves, all the way to the handles on the insides of the doors.

You sprayed the seats, too, knowing that you’d had blood on yourself as you’d sat there, and the smell of bleach and chemicals was making your eyes sting and your throat feel itchy and blocked, but at least it was clean. Dropping that back down, you found some cloth and glass cleaner next, the windows and the mirrors dirty and dusty from the commotion, and you knew they needed to stay clean, so your guidance when driving was never impaired. It was all squeaky clean when you were finishing with it, only the floss left to be mopped down, and then the supplies unstacked, and you placed your hands on your hips as you stared at it all, feeling proud despite the protesting your body was giving up.

You still needed to mop, blood stains and dirt on the floors of the truck, but that was arguably the easiest part of your job, and so you scanned your eyes around for the mop bucket once again. There were several buckets still lay out, disinfectant, bleach, different germ killers, and some that you’d simply selected for their nice smell, and you added a splash of each to the bucket, a concoction you’d been using for years in many different formations from house to house.

Grabbing it by the handle, you held it in both arms, heading through to the rec-room, and dipping your head in a nod with a smile as you watched Newt and Minho head out, the former of who’s hand raised up in a wave as he continued to walk out with his friend, never stopping his chatter.

Placing the mop bucket under the hot water canteen, it rested of its own free will on the counter, and you leaned back a little, taking a small break. Fry was still looking through the fridge, grabbing the tupperwares of food he’d made but never had a chance to eat, his dinner for the night most likely, before nudging it shut with his foot and offering you a bright grin as he left. Brenda was singing loudly from the locker room, the new team beginning to filter in, and fill the space, and as you heard the cupboard door behind you open, you jumped, snapping back to attention and unsure of when your eyes had even closed.

Taller than you, a good free inches on your height, you turned to look up at the curly-haired boy standing beside you, watching as he retreated from within with a cereal bar, unwrapping it as he nudged it closed, peeling it open and turning to face you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Just a little tired, ready to head home. Not much left to do, now.” It was a small lie, only brief, because you’d probably still be here for a couple of hours with the pace at which you were moving and the workload that was left, and you turned to flip the tab on the hot water, deeming it to be enough as the sweet smell of the floral mix you’d added to the bleach drifted around the room.

“I meant, how are you doing.” His gaze dropped down to your side, the side you were holding a somewhat limp arm at, before coming back up to meet your gaze, and taking a bite of the snack in his hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m a candidate. Ninety percent of my time is spent schlepping around doing all the chores. I saw you cleaning the trucks while I was going through some paperwork, you’ve been favouring your right side. You must’ve gotten the other side beat up pretty bad.” You raised a brow at his observations, impressed by how much he’d managed to deduce, but he dipped his head, a small smile on his face. “Also, after Thomas yelled at you, Newt chewed his ear off for, like, five minutes in front of everyone and said you got hurt too.”

“And here I was thinking you were just that observant.” You tutted, leaning down to pick up the bucket, and Chuck jumped in, taking it for you, instead, and you mumbled a thank you, walking along beside him.

“You know, you could have come and asked me for help. I didn’t think you’d still be around cleaning this late.”

“Well, someone has to do it, right? It’s best to just get it done, and then I can go home and relax.” He placed the bucket down at your feet as the two of you came to stand before the opened truck, and you grabbed for the mop, dunking it into the hot water and swishing it around a little.

“Yeah, but, you’re hurt. I could have helped.”

“It's my job, Chuck. Not yours. You already have enough on your plate.” You walked up the ramp, beginning to swipe the wet end across the floor, stains and muck smearing as you went to reveal the polished metal underneath. He tucked his hands into his pockets, shoulders rising and falling a little.

“It feels like you can’t ask anyone to help, right?” You paused, looking up at him, and his face was painted neutral, but an understanding look shone in his eyes. “I get it. When you feel like you’re more just colleagues than friends, everyone is nice to you but asking a favour of them still seems more like it’d be a burden on them. An inconvenience. You’re on the team, but you’re not on the team. That’s how you feel right?”

“Did you talk to Newt?”

He laughed, shaking his head, the young boy’s curls bouncing as he did. “No, he wouldn't get it. Newt is great, but he’s on the team. I’m just a candidate, they still worry I might drop out, or have my experience and transfer to another house instead. They don’t trust me yet. Not fully. I think you feel that way, too.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You paused, rinsing the mop and ringing it clean to wipe at the floors again, pausing to lean on the handle a little. “They like you more than me, though.”

“Maybe, but I still have more in common with you right now than I do any of the others. We can be in this together.” That brought a smile to your face, your heart warming a little bit, because it did feel nice to finally have someone else to relate to, and so you found yourself smiling, figuring you might as well add a nod in agreement at this point.

“Alright, Chuck. We’re in it together.”

He laughed a little, reaching out one hand to smack against yours in a high five, your giggles mixing with his at the simple action, before he stepped back once again. “I’d stay with you and help out, but I have dinner plans with my mom. I can call and rearrange, if you do want some help, though? I feel like that’s what I should do.”

“Go to dinner, Chuck.”

“But, friends don’t leave other friends to clean alone when they’re hurt.” He sighed, a puppy-dog look crossing over his features.

“I will be fine, I swear. Go enjoy your family time, if it gets too much, I’ll just stop and leave it.” He made you promise to do so, his pinky held out in a way that made you laugh as you sealed the bond by wrapping your finger with his.

He took a few steps backwards, waving as he went, before facing the right way once again. You were left to watch him take his few steps toward the door, and you turned back to the job at hand, you kept up with the mopping, trying to make sure the floor was spotless, and using your foot to push the head of the mop along as you did, trying to ease the ache on your arms.

A knock against the edge of the ambulance, the metal ringing loudly, and you sighed, a smile on your face as you set the mop back down. “Thought I told you to go home, Chuck?”

Spinning around, your smile quickly dropped, the person looking up at you not being Chuck, and you tried not to frown as Thomas stared up at you. “It’s, uh, not Chuck.”

“I see that.”

He pursed his lips, a look more like a grimace on his face as he stepped back, letting you walk down the ramp slowly to stand before him, and he rolled on the balls on his feet a little as the space between you died with awkward tension. As the moment dragged out, you felt even more on edge than usual, watching as he let his eyes flick over the rest of the open space, avoiding you entirely.

“So, what do you need?”

“I wanted to apologise for shouting at you.” His gaze finally returned to you, an honest look on his face as he did, and you sighed trying not to seem quite too aggressive in your stance as he offered the first apology between you both. “Newt said you got hurt too, and that I shouldn’t have gone off at you, so, I’m sorry.”

“Right.” You hummed, not sure of what to say now that he had, and you lifted an arm, holding on the elbow on the other side, slightly defensive as you tried to steady your own anxiety. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Can I see?”

“What?” Your eyes narrowed on him, and he sighed with a slight hint of irritation in his voice.

“The bruises. Can I see how bad it is?”

“I’m a paramedic, Lieutenant. I know how to diagnose bruises, and I had it checked out at the hospital, I’m perfectly fine.” You turned away from him, taking barely a step before his hand was wrapping around upper-arm, and turning you to face him again. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it was on your bad side, and it hurt a little bit as you spun. He seemed to sense the pain, maybe it was the wince on your face, but he let go.

“Can you stop making it so hard to extend an olive branch, or whatever? It’s my job to know how badly injured you are so I can try and make your workload lighter. I’m just trying to be nice.” He growled, the word coming out through gritted teeth, and you swallowed a little, a single jolt of guilt running through you.

Turning to your side, you lifted the edge of your jumper and shirt, shivering a little at the cool breeze that had brushed over your skin as you did. He hissed under his breath, reaching out a little but never touching you as he took it in, before nodding his head. He looked at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning up from your eyes to your hairline, squinting a little at the mark there.

A hand landed on your cheek, high enough that his thumb could push almost-dry strands out of the way, turning your head to the side, and your jaw dropped as he did, feeling his thumb smoothing over your skin lightly. Pulling your head away from him, he dropped his hand back to his side, caring his throat, and that same awkward tension rose between you again. “They’re pretty bad.”

“Well, they’re not sunshine and flowers.”

You swore you almost saw amusement flicker across the blank look on his face for just a second, but you'd never be sure, and so you simply folded your arms and tried not to clench too much. “You want some help carrying it all inside? You can finish mopping, and then we can put the stuff away together.”

“That’s really not n-” He raised a brow at you, challenging the refusal of the help and hidden olive branch he was offering you. “Fine, yeah. That would be nice.”

He only dipped his head, moving to the boxes in the corner, he opened up the first, lifting out rolls of bandages and bringing them back over as you inched the bucket down the ramp once again. He brought them over, stepping up alongside you and resting the box on the gurney as he began to unpack the contents quietly.

“Oh, the gauze! That goes in t-”

“I know where it goes.” He muttered, your jaw snapping shut, and you huffed a little. He never cast you a glance. “I’ve worked here a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

You only hummed, bending enough to pick up the blood soaked sheets from the floor and take them to the washers. He didn’t spare you a glance as you informed him of your plans, letting you walk away in silence as he unpacked boxes.

It wasn’t ideal, it certainly wasn’t comfortable, but at least it was something. It was the longest the two of you had ever been in one another’s company without it becoming a screaming match, and so it was a step beyond simply despising one another, finding some kind of common ground.

[naminethewriter]

Vacation

This is my entry for the @sandersidesbigbang! I had a lot of fun participating 🥰 Thanks to all the mods for organizing this! Also huge thanks to @just-a-pintrovert & @5-falsehoods-phonated for beta reading 💙 There is also some artwork also from @just-a-pintrovert here! They did a fantastic job and I highly recommend you check out her blog! And now, enjoy!

Here on Ao3

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Roman, Janus, Logan, Remus

Relationships: platonic Intrulogical, platonic Prinmoxiety, platonic Moceit

Rating: T

Words: 12,502

Summary:  Logan doesn't show up for breakfast one morning, leaving behind a letter declaring he's going on vacation. Unsure of its authenticity, Roman, Patton and Virgil go to look for him on Remus' side of the Imagination with a certain snake as their guide.

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It started out like any other day. Patton entered the kitchen around 7 in the morning to prepare breakfast. Logan should join him soon, then Roman around an hour later and Virgil after that. When exactly was hard to say, the anxious side’s sleep schedule was the most inconsistent, but most of the time he was up last. Today Patton wanted to make an extra special breakfast since their discussion the day before had gotten a bit out of hand and nobody walked away from it happy. He just hoped all his kiddos would show up. 

Half an hour later that fear proves to be warranted. Logan still hasn’t come down. Patton had even checked the coffee machine to make sure he hadn’t missed him. But it was still as clean as he had left it yesterday. Nervously his eyes flicker from the stove to the clock and over to the stairs before he focuses on making breakfast again, but his eyes would stray every few seconds. 

Five minutes later he finally hears movement upstairs. Logan probably had been exhausted yesterday and stayed in bed a bit longer than usual. Someone was coming down the stairs now and Patton turns around with a big smile, expecting Logan but coming across Virgil instead. 

 

“Oh,” Patton says, his smile slipping. But he immediately catches the insecure look on Virgil’s face at his reaction. “Sorry, kiddo,” he laughs, trying his best to seem cheerful. “I thought you were Logan, but I’m happy to see you, too! It’s quite early for you though. Did you not sleep well?” Now that he takes a closer look, Patton can see the tiredness on Virgil’s face, who gives him a weak smile. 

 

“Morning, popstar. I just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep so I figured might as well get up, y’know?” He moves over to the coffee machine, looking at it confused for a few seconds before he seems to realize what else Patton had said. “Logan wasn’t here yet?” 

 

“I don’t think so,” Patton shakes his head, his eyes now fixed on the stove so that Virgil doesn’t see the concern across his face. “I’m sorry there’s no coffee, you know I’m no good at making some.” He tries to play it off as a joke with a laugh but even he knows it’s not convincing. Virgil hovers at the coffee machine, unsure of what to do, how to comfort Patton. Instead, he moves to make the coffee himself and trying to cheer the other up with words. 

 

“It’s fine, Pat. I can do it and I’m sure Lo’s gonna come down soon. We all had a lot to think about yesterday… Maybe he just needs some more time to think it through again this morning. But you know how he is, he’ll come down and act like it was nothing later. You’ll see.” At the end of his little ramble, the machine is in the process of brewing and Virgil gives Patton a short hug before moving to set the table. 

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Patton mumbles, more to himself than to Virgil and continues to work on breakfast. 

 

Around 20 minutes later, Roman arrives, a lot more energized than Virgil had been. “What a wondrous morrow! ‘Tis a day to sing and dance, I say!” Both Patton and Virgil chuckle at his boasting. 

 

“Good morning to you too, Roman,” Patton greets as he pulls him into a loose hug before going back to distribute their breakfast onto the plates Virgil had sat out. 

 

“I’m surprised to see you arrive before me, Doom-and-Gloom,” Roman says to Virgil while preparing his own mug of coffee. The other had taken seat on the counter after finishing his part of breakfast preparations and watched Patton work the rest of the time while slowly nursing his coffee (I say slowly but he is already working on his second mug). Virgil just shrugs. 

 

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” Roman hums in acknowledgment and then silence falls over the kitchen, only Patton scurrying around is heard. Not long however before Patton cheerfully announces: “Breakfast is ready!” 

 

“Wonderful!” Roman exclaims loudly. “What a marvelous feast you prepared for us, padre!” Patton giggles. 

 

“Thank you for the compliment, my prince.” 

 

“My, of course! What kind of ruler would I be if I couldn’t appreciate my subjects!” 

 

“A pretty standard one,” Virgil adds with a small smile. Roman huffs. 

 

“Only more proof that I am exceptional.” 

 

“That you are, Roman,” Patton laughs, but he sobers up suddenly, now looking worried again. 

 

“What’s wrong, padre? Tell me your worries and I shall strike them down with my sword!” Roman proclaims loudly in hopes of banning that expression from Patton’s face. The other gives him a small smile before looking over to the stairs. 

 

“Logan still hasn’t come down. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’m worried,” he explains. Roman quickly looks towards the stairs as well, this is the first he’s heard of their nerd not arriving this morning. It wasn’t unusual for Logan to go back upstairs after having his first cup of coffee, opting to get a bit more work done before the rest of them get up. But not coming down at all was rare. A glance towards Virgil shows him that the anxious side is worrying his bottom lip, eyeshadow a bit darker than normal. Roman places both his hands on Patton’s shoulders in a reaffirming grip and smiles at him. 

 

“I’m sure our nerd just got lost in a book or something. I shall go fetch him at once.” 

 

“Thank you,” Patton says with a small smile that Roman returns before he heads back up the stairs. Logan’s room was the one furthest away from the common area. He’d always reasoned that he didn’t want any of the noise to travel to his door and Roman could see his point. Logan was the only one of them that stuck to a regulated sleep schedule and was often the first one to retire back upstairs. And sometimes Patton, Virgil and himself could forget to be quiet afterwards so choosing the longer distance was reasonable. Roman finally arrives at the door to the logical side’s room and was about to knock when something catches his eye. Rather it is hard to overlook. Taped to the door is a thin, dark blue folder that stands out against the light brown wood of the door. On the front ‘To Patton, Roman and Virgil’ is written. With furrowed brows, Roman pulls the folder off the door and opens it, scanning the first page before hurrying back downstairs. 

 

“Guys!” he calls out, halfway down the stairs, apparently interrupting a conversation between the left-behind sides. They don’t look bothered by it however but rather concerned at his sudden re-entrance without the side he was supposed to get. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Patton asks, voice rising in concern. Roman just hands them the folder. Virgil takes it since Patton seems to be shaking from the nerves and flips it open. The first page was a simple, printed letter that read: 

 

Good morning fellow sides. 

 

After the conclusion of yesterday’s discussion, I have decided to finally 

follow through with something I had planned for a while now: 

 

I am going on vacation. 

 

In the last few months, following Janus’ acceptance and further involvement 

in our daily lives, the tension in our group has been rising and I must say, 

it figuratively suffocates me. Any attempts to resolve said tension has been 

disapproved of and you continue to disregard my contributions to various 

problems. I cannot work in this environment any longer. I have finished  

Thomas’ schedule for the next two weeks. I did my best to consider your 

and Janus’ previously given advice to ensure that it covers selfcare and  

productivity. If you want to make changes, go ahead but do not complain 

to me if it does not work out as you hoped. I have done my part now. I am 

not sure when I will return but I should not be gone longer than those two 

weeks. Do not summon me unless it is a life-or-death situation. I have  

prepared a place to stay and I am being provided for. I will continue to keep  

an eye on Thomas regardless but I do not see any need to appear in person. 

 

I wish you a pleasant time, 

Logan Logic Sanders 

 

Silence hung over the three for a few moments. 

 

“You think he’s pranking us?” Patton finally askes. Roman hums in consideration but Virgil scoffs. 

 

“Since when is Logan a prankster?” He pulls out the other sheets of paper from the folder. “These are definitely from him; I doubt even Deceit could fake them so accurately.” Truly, the schedule was color-coded and formatted in a manner that was very familiar. Roman pulls the papers out of Virgil’s grasp. He quickly scans it and whistles appreciatively. 

 

“This really is his best one yet, I must say.” 

 

“Where do you think he went?” Patton askes, his gaze fixed on the stairs. “He wrote he’s being provided for but what does that even mean?” The other two could immediately tell how worried he was. They exchange a quick glance and Roman puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder. 

 

“Well, there aren’t many places he could be... Him staying here in the mindscape would defeat the purpose of going on vacation. He could have gone to the dark side but I doubt that, it felt like he’s avoiding Deceit as well and if he’s in the imagination, I should be able to tell but I can’t feel him there...”  

 

“Where did you find this anyway?” Virgil askes and holds up the folder. 

 

“It was taped to his door.” 

 

“So you didn’t actually check his room, right?” Roman brightens. 

 

“I did not! Great idea, Hot Topic. Let’s go!” He runs back upstairs. 

 

“How does he have so much energy in the morning?” Virgil groans but he follows after him, Patton in tow. When they arrive upstairs, Logan’s door is wide open and Roman could be heard humming inside. Virgil immediately pales. 

 

“Princey, what the fu-” He glances at Patton. “-frick are you doing?” he hisses, not crossing the threshold. Roman, who was currently going through the papers on Logan’s desk, shoots him a look. 

 

“Searching for clues, like you suggested.” 

 

“I never said that!” 

 

“You said to check his room!” 

 

“I meant knock to see if he’s in here, not waltz in and go through his stuff!” 

 

“Why are you whisper-hissing? Logan’s not here, I already checked his bathroom, closet and under the bed.” 

 

“Why would you-? Ugh, never mind,” Virgil groans and does cautiously enter the room, followed by Patton who looks around curiously. 

 

“I haven’t really been in here for ages!” he gasps. Virgil furrows his brows. 

 

“You go to his room all the time though?” 

 

“Yeah, sure, to check on him. He doesn’t really invite me in though and I don’t wanna pry...” He takes another look around, this time more apprehensively. “It feels kinda wrong to be in here. Without his permission, I mean.” 

 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Virgil exclaims, biting at a nail nervously. “C’mon, we verified he’s not here, let’s go.” 

 

“Verified? Boy, the nerd’s room’s already getting to you, huh?” Roman scoffs and lays back a few papers he doesn’t find interesting. “And we haven’t found any clues yet, leaving would be a waste.” 

 

“Roman, we are not here to snoop through Logan’s stuff. We just wanted to confirm that he is not here.” Patton scolds, both he and Virgil are already back by the door. Roman rolls his eyes. 

 

“Hold on, I’m almost done. How is it that I’m the one who’s been in here the longest but I’m the least affected by the room?” he mumbles a bit loudly to not be intentional while checking around the desk. 

 

“No, Sherlock Homeinvader, we’re leaving,” Virgil insists, presses the folder he was still holding on to in Patton’s hands and goes over to him to drag him back himself as Roman dramatically gasps. 

 

“What do we have here?” he asks even more dramatically and bends down, grabbing something out of what appears to be Logan’s trash can. Virgil nose wrinkles. 

 

“Disgusting, dude.” 

 

“Relax, it’s just a bunch of paper. Well, paper and this!” He holds up a container. A very familiar container. Pickled Poo Logs, Remus’ favored snack. Easily recognizable by his face at the top, though there are dicks doodled over the rest of the label. Virgil immediately snatches it out of his hand. 

 

“Remus was here?” Patton hesitantly comes over to take a look himself. “Maybe Logan was just curious about it? He gets like that sometimes, you know?” His nervous tone sabotages his attempt at lightening the mood, especially since he doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself. 

 

“With dicks drawn all over it? No, Nerdy Wolverine would have asked for a clean one,” Roman comments and turns the case over in his hands, inspecting it. 

 

“You think Remus kidnapped him?” Virgil asks, panicked. 

 

“Considering the folder, unlikely. Oh, there’s the room’s effect!” Roman hums, pleased. “No, it is unlikely that Logan left involuntarily but he may have been tricked. Remus is an idiot but he’s not totally stupid. And he kind of fixated on our braincell after his introductory video.”  

 

“What has Remus done now?” calls an exasperated voice from the door. All three of them spin around to see Janus leaning against the doorframe, inspecting his gloved fingers with a small smirk on his lips. Virgil growls at him immediately and Janus rolls his eyes in response. “Oh, yes, please do keep acting like a guard dog, Virgil, it is so becoming of you.” Before he could snap back, Patton lays a hand on Virgil’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. He continues glaring but falls silent.

“Hello Janus, what brings you here?” Patton asks, trying to sound cheerful but even to Roman and Virgil it sounds forced. It doesn’t fool Janus for even a second.

“I went to the kitchen to make my morning cup of tea and no one else was there as usual so I decided to come up here for no reason at all.” His smirk stays however he seems to eye Patton very carefully who laughs nervously in response.

“Oh, sorry about that. We didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried, merely… curious. You lot seldomly break your morning routine, especially Logan, so seeing him in particular absent from this group despite us being all gathered here in his room, I do wonder what is going on. Care to enlighten me?”

“We don’t care to. This is none of your business, leave Deceit!” Virgil practically spits. Janus tuts and shakes his head.

“On the contrary, dear Virgil, if this does indeed involve Remus, it is entirely my business. He has been acknowledged by Thomas, not accepted. It is still a part of my duty to reign him in from time to time. To make sure he does not hurt Thomas’ mental health excessively.”

“Oh yeah, you did a great job of that before the wedding,” Roman scoffs. Janus glares at him.

“In that instance I let him looser than normal precisely to protect Thomas’ mental health in the long run. He was pushing himself too much, acknowledging Remus’ presence was supposed to help him clear his head a little,” he hisses and Virgil snorts.

“That worked out so well.”

“Sssssshhut up!”

“Kiddos! Please, let’s not fight, we have more pressing things to deal with right now!” Virgil and Roman grumble but don’t interject. Janus looks defensive, still glaring at the two of them. “Logan is missing,” Patton continues. “He left us this note but it’s so unlike him, we aren’t sure if we should trust it. While we checked his room, Roman found one of Remus’ deodorants, so we suspect he might be involved somehow.” Apparently deciding to abandon his staring match with Virgil, Janus walks over to Patton and lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand the situation. Could I look at the note and the deodorant, please?”

“Oh, sure,” Patton says with a light blush and hands over the folder. Janus quietly thanks him before thumbing through the pages. The letter he looks at last.

“Ah, yes. I did indeed warn him about his habit to overwork himself a few times recently. If he is taking a break, then I am more inclined to let him do so.”

“We don’t want to stop him from taking a break!” Patton hastily clarifies. “We’re just worried about the how. We don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. And if Remus is involved, I don’t know how much of a break he is really getting…” He trails off at the end, staring at his feet. Janus hums and quickly walks over to Roman to pluck the deodorant out of his hands.

“Hey!” The prince protests, but Janus doesn’t pay him any mind. Instead, he looks over the case in his hand. Once he was finished, he drops it back into Roman’s hands who squawks at him offendedly.

“From recent conversations, it did seem like Remus was getting rather attached to Logan and I don’t think they have a bad relationship. It might very well be that Logan asked the Duke for his help in this matter.”

“As if,” Virgil pouts, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced of that himself. Janus ignores him.

“But if you feel like you need to check then I do have an idea where to look.” Patton beams at him.

“Really? Could you take us? Right now??”

“No way am I going anywhere with that snake!” Roman yells. “He might just be leading us into a trap!” Janus gives him an unimpressed look.

“And why would I do that? My job is to make sure Thomas’ mental health is in good shape. Getting all of you injured, or whatever you imagine I would want to do to you, would be nothing but counterproductive.”

“Like I believe that!”

“Regardless,” Janus says to brush off Roman’s protest who in turn only seems to get angrier, “I am afraid you do not have much of a choice. If the two are where I think they are, then you have no chance of getting there without a guide.”

“I can navigate Remus’ side of the Imagination just as well as my own, I do not need your help, Jack the Fibber!”

“I do not doubt that my prince. However, that place in particular is designed to keep unwanted visitors out. I doubt you would even find it, not to mention getting inside.”

“And what place would that be?” Virgil hisses before Roman can start yelling again.

“The library.”

“Remus… has a library?” Patton asks, doubt clear in his voice.

“No, he doesn’t. The fact that you do not know about it just proves my point. It is one of the most fortified buildings Remus has ever created. The layout constantly changes, there are traps and monsters roaming the halls.”

“If the layout changes, then why do you think you could take us there?” Patton interjects.

“Because there is one path that leads to the actual library within, and I mean only one path. Make one wrong turn or otherwise go off course and you will not find your way out easily. I got lost only once and I do not recommend it.”

“And why should we believe you?” Roman challenges, head raised high. Janus seems amused by his stubborn antagonism.

“I do not care if you believe me or not. You are the ones that want to check on Logan. I am only offering to take you since I had planned to go there soon anyway. And I need to see what Remus is doing from time to time. You can come along or not, it is totally. Up. To. You.” Janus emphasizes the last words by poking Roman lightly in the chest after each syllable, all the while smirking up at him. Roman continues to glare but he couldn’t quite repress the slight flush of his cheeks at Janus’ proximity. The snakelike side laughs lightly before making his way back to the door.

“I will leave after breakfast. You do what you think is right,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing back down the hallway, leaving the others in silence.

“He has got to be tricking us, right?” Virgil growls after a few seconds. Roman nods in agreement but Patton looks thoughtful.

“I don’t think so. He has no reason to.”

“He’s Deceit, Patton. It’s all he knows.”

“Look, I know you both had your differences with him and I’m still adjusting too, but Janus is an integral part of Thomas, we cannot deny that anymore. I am sure he does not want anything truly bad to happen to any of us, so if this is a trick then it is probably only a small prank.” Virgil and Roman share a look of disbelief but Patton doesn’t stop there. “And besides, what other options do we have? Sit around and hope that Logan is truly okay? Or comb through Remus’ side on our own? Your powers barely work over there Roman, and the place is not small, right?”

“Right,” Roman admits with a sigh after a few seconds of silence. “And I am worried about Nerdy Wolverine, if we don’t do anything about this, I will go stir crazy, so I guess I can try and trust that snake for a bit.”

“Thank you, Ro!” Patton pulls him into a hug, beaming. Roman chuckles and pats his back.

“Yeah, yeah, anything for you, padre.” He turns to Virgil. “Are you going to come along?”  

“…Fine,” Virgil grumbles, still clearly unhappy about the situation. “But if it turns out that he’s up to something, I am totally going to tell you ‘I told you so’.” Roman rolls his eyes.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, Emo Nightmare.”

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

The track through Remus’ side of the Imagination hadn’t been pleasant. The atmosphere was tense and Patton’s attempts to lighten the mood didn’t cheer anyone up. Roman and Virgil did their best to ignore Janus and the deceitful side himself accepted their stubbornness quietly. Only Patton really talked, though even he gave up after a while. Thankfully, they didn’t come across any of Remus’ monsters but the landscape they had to track through was nightmarish enough and won’t be discussed here. Now they stood before their apparent goal.

“This… is it?” Roman asks, doubtfully. The building in front of them is a rather cliché-looking mansion from horror games. It is a wide, stone structure with two floors that seems to have high ceilings. It’s dark and intimidating looking though on closer inspection, the construction style seems to change randomly. A different kind of stone here, another window frame there. Apparently, Remus stitched together different buildings and haphazardly added details wherever it pleased him. For example, the house of Jack Skellington from Nightmare Before Christmas is sticking out of the roof, completely intact but just… there.

What stands out most though, is the glass dome further back on the building. Not because it is the most impressive but because it’s the only thing that is illuminated, emitting a soft yellow glow. All the other windows are pitch black.

“Not satisfied, Roman?” Janus smirks.

“Well, yes. I expected more from my brother’s so-called masterpiece!”

“I definitely called it his masterpiece,” Janus says as he rolls his eyes. “And the interior is the more impressive part. The exterior Remus changes every so often when he gets new inspiration. I think the last remodeling came after Thomas researched that giant lady and the game she’s in.”

“You mean the one you stole your skirt look from?” Virgil smiles, mischievously.

“Yes, because my look wasn’t almost finished by the time Thomas found out about her!” Janus hisses at him with a glare. Virgil shows him his tongue.

“Kiddos, please stop. We’re here for Logan, let’s concentrate!” Patton tries to encourage teamwork but again is not really successful.

“Ugh, fine,” Virgil scoffs and glares at Janus one last time before turning back to the building in front of them.

“Let’s just get this over with. Remus’ side always gives me chills,” Roman complains.

“Very well.” Janus adjusts his gloves before clearing his throat. “Once we enter, as I haven’t told you before, there is one path we need to follow, so I need you to listen to my instructions carefully and let me take the lead. I know it’s very hard for you to go along with other people’s plan but trust me on this one, Roman.” He grins over at the prince whose face is turning red in anger. Before he can explode, Patton steps in.

“No provocation from you either, Janus! If we have to rely on you as you say, then make an effort to be reliable in return!” He leans close to Janus and pouts, giving him his best I’m-disappointed-in-you-and-I-know-you-can-do-better look.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop as well.” Janus waves him off. “The instructions can be stupidly specific sometimes, at one point we will have to stick to one side of a corridor, for example, but there will also be traps, distractions and monsters. Though – and make sure to remember that – nothing truly dangerous can access the path. So even if something comes charging at us, I need you to stay calm and not run around like headless chickens. I will not save you from your own stupid decisions.”

“Oh yes, so trustworthy. Thank you greatly for your generosity.” Roman rolls his eyes and Patton shots him a slight glare, making him huff but refrain from further comments. Janus ignores him completely.

“Our goal is the dome and usually it should take not over half an hour to arrive there.” Now Roman looks sceptic for a different reason.

“If we just need to get to the dome then can’t we just climb the building and get in from the roof?”

“Oh yes, what a great plan, I can’t believe I have never thought of that before!” Janus exclaims, hand on his heart but quickly drops the act. “The interior and exterior aren’t connected like that. Since Remus shifts the inside around as much, no window or door – other than the main entrance – connect to a specific room. It will just drop you randomly somewhere in the mansion. And as I’ve stated before, that is not something you want to happen. So no, we can’t do this like a heist movie.” Roman looks angry again but doesn’t comment. Patton pats him on the shoulder (which only seems to sour his mood more) before addressing Janus.

“Alright, we will follow your lead.” he says with a smile. Janus nods at him stiffly before moving towards the front door without another word, the others following behind him with tense expressions (though Patton tries, and fails, to hide his).

The door to the mansion is made of a heavy, red wood that Janus pushes open without hesitation. Behind it lies… a rather normal looking entrance hall. There is a long carpet that leads to the grand staircase in the middle of the room. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling and the decoration is tasteful. Or rather, it used to be. As impressive as the hall is, it is rotting away. There’s dust everywhere, as well as spiderwebs and the air is thick and unpleasant.

“This place has so much potential if my brother bothered to take care of it,” Roman huffs as he looks around. Janus doesn’t respond but instead gives more instructions.

“Follow behind me in a line. And please do walk next to each other, that wouldn’t be risky at all.” After saying that, he moves toward the back of the hall, left of the staircase where a door is situated. “Behind here is where the dangerous path starts. Be. Very. Careful,” Janus stresses, looking back at the others who had followed him.

“Will do!” Patton responds, with faux cheerfulness. Roman and Virgil sigh but they do line up. Their marching order is Janus, Patton, Virgil and Roman in the back. The first few hallways and rooms they pass aren’t all that bad. They have a few disgusting gimmicks – bleeding walls, gooey carpets, a mirror that insults you when you stand before it – but nothing too severe. The first truly shocking room (though it really should have been expected, in hindsight) they come across is…

“Is this the playroom from Fifty Shades of Grey?” Virgil asks after they all simply stared at the contents of the room for a few moments.  

“Thomas hasn’t even seen that movie!” Roman exclaims, very red in the face. He is also holding Patton’s glasses to protect his purity while Virgil holds his hand while he is effectively blind. Janus shrugs his shoulders.

“The scene has been referenced in enough videos and interviews that we have a basic understanding of what happened in it. And that might have been where Remus got the idea from, but he definitely modified it to be more to his taste. It is a room for BDSM though.”

“How… How do you know that?” Roman asks, still very much embarrassed.

“… Just be grateful that there are no people in here today,” is all Janus is willing to admit before heading towards the door that allows them to continue. The corridor behind it is dimly lit and a few lights even flicker. Janus leads them on confidently, the others follow him back in line and with Patton’s glasses returned to their owner. However, the creepy feeling of the hallway has Patton continue to cling onto Virgil’s hand, who is the side of the group most comfortable with horror. Roman has one hand on his sheathed sword – that he had strapped to his side before they entered Remus’ side of the imagination – and the other has a tight grip on Virgil’s hoodie. The anxious side isn’t very happy about how the two clinging to him limits his movement, but he can understand their worries, so he lets it slide.

“Did you hear that?” Patton squeaks out and for a moment Virgil doesn’t know what he means before a thump echoes down the hallway. They freeze, bringing Roman to a stop behind them.

“What’s wro- “

“Shhhhhh!” The rumbling becomes louder and now Janus notices that they had stopped following. He, unlike Roman can guess as to why so he just waits ahead in slight annoyance. He had warned them before entering, he won’t tell them again. By now Roman had caught on and he grips the sword tightly, ready to draw.

Ahead of them, a monster comes around the corner. It has the body of a gorilla and walks on all fours, but its head is that of a snake and a pair of wings grow from its back. That would have been enough to scare Patton, maybe even Roman, but the most noticeable and gruesome attribute of the monster were its injuries. Maybe it was supposed to be a kind of zombie, since there are large chunks of flesh missing from its gorilla body, other patches lacked fur and again others ooze a liquid that may have been blood if it wasn’t so obviously sticky.  

The snake head isn’t fairing much better. It misses some scales and there are a few black spots that might have been burn marks. One of the wings seems undamaged though its partner looks all the worse for it. There are hardly any feathers left and the bones that are now left exposed seem broken in a few places and hang limply in a way that looks very, very wrong.

The monster spots them easily, makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a mix of a hiss and a roar and charges at them. Roman curses quietly and quickly pushes Virgil and Patton behind him. Janus looks unbothered, he is leaning against the wall and waits for it to be over. The monster gains more and more speed (considering the length of the corridor, it doesn’t make sense how long the charge takes), sprinting at them, until – oh so suddenly – it collides with something and crashes to the ground. Roman, Virgil and Patton stare at it with open mouths.

“I told you: as long as we stick to the path, nothing can hurt us,” Janus explains nonchalantly before resuming his way down the corridor, towards the beast that twitches on the ground. The others stare at it a moment longer before they hurry after Janus.

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

The next few corridors and rooms were not all that difficult. One hallway was filled with spike traps that they had to avoid, and they passed three different torture rooms, all with different equipment. Janus explained that Remus liked to separate them by era and country, so he had, for example, one room filled with torture instruments used in the witch hunts in Germany from 1550 to 1650. And while they weren’t nice to look at, the rooms were empty and so it was left to their own imaginations as to how the instruments might have been used.

The next impactful incident happens in a corridor with a ceiling that falls down and crushes everyone beneath it. To avoid it, Janus told them to stick as close to the right wall of the hallway as possible. Their pace is significantly slower this way but none of them wanted to be squished so they carefully set one foot in front of the other.

“We’re almost there,” Janus calls to the others. The passage isn’t all that long but with the literally looming threat, it sure feels like it.

“Pat, you’re not stepping right,” Virgil hisses and pulls him more to the side.

“Sorry!” the moral side squeaked. “I think my glasses are smudged a bit. It makes it hard to see.”

“Oh, sorry, padre. That might have been me when I held them for you,” Roman apologizes.

“It’s alright, kiddo. I do it myself all the time.”

“Well, better clean them before one of your feet get crushed. Everyone stop!” Virgil commands and though he seems annoyed, Janus complies. Patton gives them an apologetic smile before taking his glasses off to wipe them clean with his shirt as best as he can.

Unable to hold still, Roman shuffles a bit on the ground and that’s when he makes a mistake. One of his feet lands too far away and a click comes from the ceiling. With a whoosh and a bang, part of the ceiling comes down. Virgil startles so bad that he lunges forward a bit, upsetting Patton’s balance and sending him to the floor, taking Janus with him. Thankfully, they don’t trigger another trap, but Patton’s glasses fall to the ground and skitter down the hallway.

“Are you alright?” Virgil asks, frantically, moving to help Patton up.

“I’m fine, but my glasses…”

“Do not worry, I will get them back for you!” Roman proclaims before starting to climb over Virgil and Patton still on the floor to get to the front.

“Watch it, Prince Douche!”

“I am, Emo Bitch!”

“Language!”  

Roman manages to get past both of them and Janus before the latter grips his arm to stop him.

“Don’t!” he hisses. Roman eyes him skeptically.

“And why not, oh Great Deceiver?” he mocks.

“Because we need to make a right here! The glasses are off the path!” Understanding blooms on Roman’s face and he looks back towards the glasses, a few feet away from the crossing they need to take.

“I can’t just grab them real quick and come back?”

“No. Once you’re off the path you can’t just turn around. I doubt you’ll even be able to still see us then.”

“It’s okay,” Patton calls from the back. He and Virgil are back on their feet. “I have a spare pair in my room, if you guide me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Again, I’m so sorry, Padre.”

“Please stop apologizing, it’s really fine, promise!” Patton smiles but his eyes are obviously not focusing on Roman and it’s apparent just how little he can see like this.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Virgil mumbles and leads him forward and into the crossing where they are safe from more falling ceilings.

“It’s not fine,” Janus suddenly speaks up. All eyes turn to him (or where Patton thinks he is). “We’re almost at the library but Remus, as charming as he is, of course made the last stretch the most annoying. Most of the time it’s a ladder we will need to climb with traps all over them to try and get you to fall over and over and over again. I can warn you about the ones I spot but if Patton can’t see them himself, he won’t be able to avoid them properly. We need to get his glasses somehow…”

The three with working eyes pondered for a bit before Roman speaks up.

“I think Virgil might be able to reach if he lays on the ground…”

“Why me?!”

“You’re the tallest.”

“By a few inches at best!”

“Well, those few inches might just be what we need here,” Janus chimes in and Virgil glares at him.

“C’mon, Beetlejuice, you want to get out of here, right? And we can’t leave Patton behind.”

“Really, kiddos, it’s fine! I’ll manage… somehow.”

“Yes, keep saying that, it’s sooo helpful!”

“Don’t take it out on him!”

“Just stop it!” Roman yells over the chaos. “Virgil please. I’ll hold on to your foot, it’ll be fine!” Virgil eyes him for a moment before he sighs.

“Fine but you use that,” he taps against Roman’s sash, “to secure my foot. I don’t trust your milky hands.”

“Milky?!”

“Ugh, just do it!” Janus groans and is met with two glares for his effort but both Roman and Virgil get to work. With the red band firmly bound around Virgil’s shoe and Roman’s hand, the former carefully lies on the floor. Just as he is about to start robbing over to the glasses, a door down the hallway opens and a figure emerges. Virgil stares at it in disbelief.

“Why Pyramid Head?!” Indeed, the creature now slowly making its way toward them, knife dragging across the floor, was the iconic monster from Silent Hill 2. Janus is the first to regain his composure.

“At least he’s slow! Quickly grab the glasses before he gets over there!”

“Easy for you to say- “

“Stop arguing, please,” Patton begs from his position against the wall of the next corridor they would traverse. Virgil grumbles under his breath but makes his way forward. And so does Pyramid Head.

It’s like watching a (very slow) head-to-head race toward the finish line. Robbing forward on his stomach, Virgil is about as fast as Pyramid Head’s walking speed. Inch by inch, Virgil gets closer to the reach of the gigantic knife still dragging along the floor. The creature doesn’t even need to get to him, just close enough to swing its weapon.

Virgil’s ankle leaves the path as he gets close enough to try and reach the glasses. And if Pyramid Head used its blade right now, it might have a chance to hit but still it moves forward, into a position where it is more likely to strike true.

Virgil’s fingertips hit the frame. Just a little bit more. Half of his foot is still within the barrier. Roman has a firm grip on the sash. Virgil’s hand closes around the glasses and Pyramid Head raises his knife to swing down.

“Got them!”

“Janus! Help me pull him back!” Roman calls as he holds Virgil’s shoe with his tied-up hand and places the other on his ankle. Immediately, the other is beside him, grabs onto his arms and pulls. And not a second too late. The knife lands where Virgil’s head had been moments before, and Roman and Janus fall onto their asses while Virgil is trying to catch his breath and to not go into a full-blown anxiety attack.

“What happened?? Are you okay?” Patton calls over, worriedly.

Roman lets out a breathless, unbelieving laugh and collapses onto his back, the adrenaline rushing through him. Which turned out to be good because as soon as his head hits the ground, a click comes from the ceiling once again.

“Shit-!” Quickly Roman rolls to the side before his head is flattened by the trap. He must’ve moved within its range by an inch. Janus stares at him in disbelief.

“How are you alive?”

“I’m too fabulous to die.” The ridiculous response got Virgil to laugh and forget his panic for long enough to calm down.

“Guys?” Again, Patton tries to get their attention.

“We’re all fine, Pat. And I’ve got your glasses, hold on.” Virgil climbs to his feet, wipes the lenses on his hoodie to clean them as best he could before heading over to Patton and pushing them onto his nose. “How’s that?” Patton doesn’t answer, just pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Um… Sure. No problem,” Virgil mumbles nervously. Patton gives him a smile before looking over to the other two that are in the process of standing up. On the other side of the barrier, Pyramid Head has lost interest and was now moving away again. The sides pay him no mind.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Roman comes over to Virgil and Patton with a grin, Janus on his heels.

“Speak for yourself, princey. I’m so ready to get out of here.”

“I’m having so much fun with this. Let’s go, sadly, we’re almost there.” Janus takes the lead once again and the others follow. They pass through one more room, a laboratory of sorts with lots of blood on most of the surfaces (thankfully, the floor is mostly clean), before they enter what seems to be an elevator shaft. And indeed, the only way forward is a ladder.

“How surprising,” Janus mutters under his breath before turning back toward the others. “As I’ve said before, this part is not really dangerous, but pretty annoying. There will be traps to try and get you to fall but even if you do, you will fall slowly. Remus implemented this more as a prank than anything else. I’ll tell you about what I spot but we may need several tries.”

“Okay, we’ll trust you to not let us down,” Patton says with a wink. Janus stares at him with a blank look.

“That was terrible.” Then he starts to climb, Patton after him, then Virgil and Roman is in the back again.

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

They do indeed need more than five tries to get to the top. It was especially annoying that Patton fell for the same trap twice, requiring the rest to wait where they were until he climbed up again. Their arms are gonna be sore tomorrow for sure. But they had finally made it.

The ladder ended in another corridor but this one was clean and wonderfully decorated in greens and silver. Portraits line the walls, most of them of Remus himself, but there is one of Janus and one of both together. Most peculiar are two others however. One shows Remus grinning, arm out to the side, probably hugging someone but the other half of the painting is missing. The second is simply an empty frame.

“Self-centered much?” Roman scoffs.

“Oh yeah, like you don’t have at least a dozen different self-portraits in your castle, Prince of Narcissists,” Virgil retorts. Janus doesn’t pay any attention to the banter or the pictures for that matter. He strides ahead with purpose. Patton watches him in concern, but he feels like this isn’t a moment to pry.

At the end of the corridor is an enormous double door, also in green and silver. The handles, however, are made of gold.

“Does he have some sort of obsession with Slytherin or something?” Again, it’s Roman commenting. Janus hisses at him in disdain.

“For your information, he is a Gryffindor, same as you. And his second choice would be Ravenclaw. No, green and silver just happen to be his favorite colors.”

“Jeez, sorry.” Roman holds up his hands in surrender. “What made you so cranky?”

“Please, keep talking.” Janus rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get it over with.” He grabs the handle on one side and pushes, Patton quickly helps him with the other. Slowly the heavy material gives away and swings open. And suddenly their vision is filled with green.

In front of them is a jungle and as they take the first steps in, the humid air hits them. Birds can be heard singing somewhere but none of them are able to spot them. They stand in a clearing, although the tree line that surrounds them is only about ten feet from them. The trees themselves tower over them, their leaves lush and green, vines hanging between them. The ground is littered with bushes and plants and only one way seems to lead further inward, its stones wide and beautiful. As they look up into the sky, they can see the glass of the dome incasing them, the sun beaming down outside. Which was weird since when they had been in front of the building the weather had been quite dreary.

“Are we… really in the right place?” Patton asks, his voice hushed as if he was afraid of breaking the serenity of their surroundings by being too loud.

“Yes, we are. If you look closely, you can see a few shelves on the far side of the dome.” Janus points upward and the others follow his line of sight. Indeed, quite a ways away, they could see some brown structures following the curve of the dome.

“How are the books not falling?” Virgil questions, his eyes squinted to make out anything in the first place. Roman snorts.

“This is the imagination, Doubtful Central. Remus doesn’t want them to fall, so they don’t fall.” Virgil sticks out his tongue at the prince’s condescending tone. Patton lightly scolds them to stop fighting. Janus clears his throat.

“We need to track along the path for a bit until we reach a river. Behind it is the library.”

“And hopefully Logan,” Patton sighs. “I hope he’s okay.”

“I’m sure he is, padre. You know our nerd, he isn’t easy to beat,” Roman jokes, his hand squeezing Patton’s shoulder in support. Patton smiles at him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m always right!”

“You wish, princey.”

“Kiddos…” Patton almost sounds defeated and Janus pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“He used to be like that with Remus, too. It’ll be fine.” Patton nods and gives Janus a grateful smile. He, in turn, gives a nod in acknowledgment back and turns to back to the bickering two. “I hate to interrupt you but one more warning. Watch your feet in there. There are some books that have gone… wild.” The others stare at him a moment.

“He stole the Monster Book of Monsters, didn’t he?”

“… He created something similar at least.”

With a groan from Virgil, the group sets out and follows the path. Even though it is made of stone, there are still quite a few branches and vines to dodge. The jungle isn’t quiet either, various sounds resounding in the air. Rustling in the bushes, noises that might belong to a kind of monkey, the birds’ continuous songs. A collage of different sounds that is almost overwhelming.

Roman keeps one hand on the hilt of his sword in case one of the animals decide to come their way, his eyes scanning the trees continuously. Patton clutches one of Virgil’s hands in his own, both also checking their surroundings nervously. Meanwhile, Janus’ eyes are fixated on the ground.

After they had walked for a few minutes, the tension drops a bit. Most of the jungle’s inhabitants seem to go out of their way on their own without hostility. In that moment, a bush on the right side rustles suddenly, then one to the left and unbelievably quickly, two books shoot out of the greenery and try attacking the groups feet. Patton screams and jumps into Virgil’s arms whose eyeshadow turned a very deep black.  

“Just give them a good kick, that usually scares them off!” Janus calls over the ruckus Patton is making, mostly directed at Roman who had unsheathed his sword. He is trying to stab the books, but their binding is quite resistant, and he can’t really get a good hit in. As he hears the call however, he shoots a quick look over to Janus, who has taken a few steps away to protect himself, before swinging his leg with all his might, hitting one book directly into the spine and sending it flying into the canopy.

The second one snarls and turns its attention from Virgil, whose shoe it had been trying to chew through, to Roman, and (again quicker than you would expect from a thing with no legs) darts toward him, in a zig-zag pattern so it wouldn’t suffer the same fate as its companion.

“Shit,” Roman curses, earning a weak ‘Language!’ from Patton who was calming down now that the book wasn’t focused on him and Virgil anymore. Roman tries to land another hit but the book is too fast and lunges forward, most likely to bite him in the leg.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Virgil’s heel digs into the cover, throwing the book back down to the ground. It whimpers and quickly disappears back into the bushes. With heavy breaths does Virgil set his foot back down, Patton still in his arms. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Hot Topic! You’re stronger than I thought.”

“Well,” Virgil shrugs while Patton climbs down, “fight-or-flight, remember?” Roman laughs and pats him on the shoulder.

“Right, right.” They smile at each other for a moment before Patton speaks up.

“Where’s Janus?” Surprised, the three quickly take a look around. The deceitful side was nowhere in sight.

“I knew that slimy snake could not be trusted!” Roman yells angrily. Virgil has a similarly dark look. Patton doesn’t look convinced.

“Maybe he just went ahead? It’s not like there are any other paths we can follow, so he could have just gone ahead to scout for more bad books?”

“You really are too trusting, padre,” Roman scoffs. “But you are right, there is only one path to follow, might as well take it. Turning around now would be pointless anyway.” He and Virgil start walking forward. Patton nervously gnaws at his lip, not liking how this is turning out at all.

They do find Janus not all that far up ahead. He is crouching down in front of a bush, apparently muttering to himself. The path had winded at bit and with the branches in the way they hadn’t been able to spot him earlier. Still, Roman continues to be mad and stomps over to him.

“So now is the point where you try to abandon us?? Just what is your game, snake?!” Janus looks over his shoulder, as calmly as ever.

“Abandoning you was definitely my intention,” he scoffs before turning back around, reaching for something, and standing back up after. When he then turns to face them fully, he is holding a long, yellow snake in his arms that is winding itself around his torso. “This is Jake, I used to keep him in my room, but he took a liking to the jungle, so I let him live here, most of the time at least.” Jake stops his climbing and watches them for a moment, his tongue flickering out.

“Aww!” Patton coos before stepping a bit closer. “Can I pet him?”

“Sure, he doesn’t bite. Most of the time.” But the moral side has already stopped listening, instead stroking the snake’s head which he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Roman, who had been a bit stunned at the sudden animal in Janus’ hands, regains his composure.

“So why did you disappear then?” he demands. Janus shrugs.

“I figured you could handle two books with no actual teeth and Jake called out to me, so I went ahead to find him. There is only one path after all, I doubted you could manage to get lost.” Roman is practically fuming but Patton interjects before he can blow up.

“You can speak with him??”

“Yes. You really think Thomas modeled me after a snake and didn’t give me the ability to speak Parseltongue?”

“Cool!” Patton whispers, staring at Janus with wide eyes, who looks a bit uncomfortable with the sudden attention. He clears his throat.

“Anyway. Jake tells me that Remus is indeed here. And he’s not alone.” Immediately, Virgil’s gaze snaps to him.

“Logan?”

“Most likely. Jake has never met him before, but the description fits.”

“You don’t sound all that sure.” Janus shrugs.

“He’s just a snake. He doesn’t lie to me, but he could be wrong.”

“We should hurry,” Patton says with determination, pulling his hand back. Jake hisses in displeasure from losing the scritches he was receiving. Janus rolls his eyes.

“Come back with me today and I’ll scratch you wherever you like.” That seems to please the snake since he gives another, smaller hiss and continues his winding around Janus until he finds a comfortable position.

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

They continue along the path for another few minutes without incident. Some bushes rustled but no more books tried to attack them. Finally, they could hear the sound of rushing water. The river must be near. Unconsciously, they increase their pace until they end up before a cliff, the path just suddenly ending there. The cliff isn’t all that high, only a few feet away from the rushing stream. Some type of fish jumping out of its waters every now and again. The jungle continued to the left and right of them, no bridge in sight.

“Um… How do we get across?” Patton asks, eyeing the drop. Janus takes a second to answer, not focused on the below but the beyond.

“We don’t,” he finally answers.

“What’s that supposed to mean??” Virgil demands, yet again glaring at him. Janus shrugs while he pats Jake’s head, eyes still focused ahead of them.

“This place is one of Remus’ most treasured places and there are times when even he wants to be left alone. If he doesn’t want anyone to come here, he simply removes the bridge. There is nothing we can do.”

“So we made this entire trip for nothing?!”

“I wouldn’t say that. Look.” Janus points ahead. The others reluctantly follow his gaze. None of them have really focused on the other side yet, too preoccupied with trying to go further.

A few more trees stand along the cliff but way less dense than on their side. The path continues for a few more feet before it ends at the steps of a lightly raised wooden platform, the true start of the library. Behind a reading area, rows and rows of bookcases tower, each row bigger than the one before it until the ones merging with the wall that reach way, way higher, following the curve of the dome and still somehow letting the natural light from outside shine through.

What Janus was referring to, however, is the aforementioned seating area. Among the few tables and chairs, are some sofas, beanbags, stools, and various other seating opportunities, all in different styles and colors. Because of course Remus would never settle on one theme alone. Only one of those seats was currently occupied though.

Lying on a chaise longue, turned towards them, with a book in his hand and a steaming cup on a small table beside him, is Logan. Seemingly without a worry, their nerd is relaxed and reading. Without looking away from the pages, he reaches over, takes the cup and sips whatever drink it contains before placing it back down without a second though. It seems like their worrying had been unnecessary.

“He looks fine, right?” Virgil says, though he sounds rather nervous, and he raises his thumb to bite at the nail. Patton instinctively stops him.

“That’s good, right?” he adds, also not sounding quite convinced. Janus watches their reactions without commenting. He hadn’t been worried about the logical side, he just wanted to avoid the others working themselves up over the next few days with their wild theories.

“It is too early to say yet!” Roman proclaims. “That could just be an illusion to fool us. To let our guard down! I will not leave until I spoke with him in person.”

“Nobody said anything about leaving though?” Virgil mutters. Roman ignores him.

“But we can’t reach him,” Patton objects. “How do you wanna do that?”

“Hmm…” Roman hums and takes another look at the raging water below them. “It’s not that far across. If I jump far enough, I’m sure I could make it. And I’m an excellent climber and swimmer!”

“I would advise against that,” Janus speaks up, Roman immediately eyeing him suspiciously.

“And why is that? Huh?”

“Oh, my mistake. I assumed you would be able to recognize piranhas when you see them.” Quickly, Roman’s eyes flickered back to the river and the fish still jumping out of it occasionally. “I’m also pretty sure Remus put some sharks in there just because he could. And I mean the bloodthirsty kind.” Patton’s face is now white as chalk and Virgil had a firm grip on Roman’s sleeve.

“Fine, fine!” the prince exclaims. “No swimming, I get it!” He gestures widely and Virgil lets go of him, turning away, his ears pink in embarrassment. “Then I guess we have no other choice!”

“And what choice would that be?” Janus asks, eyebrow raised. Roman grins at him before cupping his hands over his mouth and yelling at the top of his lungs:

“LOGAN! OVER HERE! HEY! ACROSS THE RIVER!” The other three slap their hands over their ears, glaring at the prince. Roman doesn’t quiet down however, until Logan obviously takes note of them. Then he switches to waving widely. Janus rubs his temples; he has had about enough for today. Patton joins in on the waving though less enthusiastically. Virgil buries his hands in his pockets and shrinks back.

Logan does not look happy to see them. Not that they could make out much from the distance in terms of facial expressions, but he had gone stiff once he realized what was happening. He bookmarks his page before setting the book down and stands up. He turns away for a moment and Janus thinks he can hear him calling out to Remus, but the rushing of the water makes it hard to be sure. Afterwards, Logan makes his way over to them, down the steps and toward the edge of the cliff where he stops. Now they could make out the frown on his face more clearly.

“What are you doing here?” he calls over, sounding displeased. Roman hesitates to answer because of his tone, so Patton speaks up instead.

“We were worried about you, kiddo! You just up and vanished and we didn’t know where to!”

“I am aware, that was intentional. Did you not find the folder?”

“We did, but we weren’t really sure if we could trust it,” Virgil explains. Having to yell over the sound of rushing water quickly became annoying.

“What do you mean, you weren’t sure if you could trust it?” Logan frown deepens but before one of them could answer, Remus appears behind him suddenly.

“Boo!” he yells, grinning all the while. Logan rolls his eyes but doesn’t react further. Roman stiffens, Patton bites his lips and Virgil buries deeper into his hoodie in displeasure. Janus is standing to the side, petting Jake, and acting like this situation doesn’t involve him.

Remus cackles at their reactions before saying something to Logan and summoning what appears to be a soundboard. He lowers a few regulators and immediately their surroundings quiet down. The river now sounds distant, like the cliff just became a few miles deeper than before, the rustling of the leaves falls quiet, as do the birds. The surreal situation stuns all of them for a moment.

“There! That’s better, right?”

“Thank you, Remus,” Logan says before turning back to the others, not having to yell anymore. “Now please continue your explanation of why you did not heed my instructions?”

“Well, um…” Patton tries to find the right words, but before he can, Janus speaks up.

“Remus, please unmute your brother.” Everyone turns to look at Roman whose face is red and seemingly trying to yell but no sound comes out. Quickly all eyes turn back to Remus who is pouting.

“Do I have to?”

“If you don’t want them to continue assuming that you kidnapped our dear Logan over there, than you might want to consider not annoying them, yes,” Janus shrugs, apparently not really caring whether Roman gets his voice back or not. Logan raises an eyebrow and shifts his focus back toward his fellow light sides.

“You assume I was kidnapped?”

“It all happened so suddenly; we didn’t know what to think!” Patton tries to explain, eyes jumping between Logan, Roman and Remus. “Please give him his voice back,” he begs after a moment of Logan glaring at them, obviously not happy with the answer.

“But-!” Remus starts to whine before Logan puts a hand on his arm and in a low tone says: “It will only make this take even longer. Please just do it so we can get this over with?”

“Ugh, fine!” Remus groans before flicking one regulator back up but not to full volume.

“You stinking rat, I’ll run you through with my sword!” Roman yells, or at least tries to, only managing to raise his voice a little louder than his normal speaking tone. He glares at his brother when he realizes this, who flips him off in return.

“Stop fighting, kiddos, please.”

“He started it!” Roman protests but Patton just shrugs.

“And we came here without permission. Plus, we’re here to talk to Logan, not to antagonize Remus.” The prince clicks his tongue but doesn’t say any more. Remus laughs.

“Yes, listen to your Daddy, Ro-bro! Or you might get spanked later!” Logan squeezes his arm that he was still holding on to and frowns at him.

“You stop starting fights as well, Rem. I just want them to leave.”

“You know how to shut me up,” Remus grins and wiggles his eyebrows. Logan simply gives him an unimpressed stare. After a few seconds, he drops the grin and sighs. “Fine, fine. You deal with them, and I’ll go play with Bruce.” He summons his tentacles before diving into the river below. Patton gasps.

“Is he okay?!”

“He’s fine. It’s his realm so nothing he creates here will do him harm unless he wants it to,” Roman reassures, almost too quiet. Regulating his volume is going to be hard for a bit and he already looks annoyed by it. Patton nods at his reassurance before turning back to Logan.

“Where were we, kiddo?” The logical side, who had also followed Remus’ decent with his eyes, looks back up and returns to frowning.

“You were attempting to explain why you assumed I was kidnapped despite me leaving clear instructions to prove the contrary.”

“It was just very unlike you, Lo,” Virgil chimes in, still deeply buried into his hoodie. “You didn’t say anything beforehand, and we thought Deceit or the Duke might have forged the folder.”

“Exactly! And then we found my brother’s atrocious deodorant case in your trash and…” Roman trails off as he realizes what he just said.

“You… went through my trash?” Logan is now undoubtedly seething, glaring at them with cold eyes.

“Well, you see…” Roman tries to explain with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. Patton looks just as likely to come up with an excuse, so Virgil speaks up again.

“I asked Princey over there to check if you were in your room or not. He took that as an invitation to go snooping.”

“Very helpful, Doom and Gloom!”

“Well, it was your fault!”

“And you didn’t have to tell him that!”

“So,” Logan interrupts, voice calm but so icy that the others shiver, “let me make sure I understood this right. You found my notes and instead of trusting me and my ability to decide for myself, your first thought was that I was some damsel in distress that needed rescuing? And in your attempt to be the heroes once again you invaded my privacy as well?!” He continually got louder and louder, clearly very much angry.

“Logan, calm down, we just-“ Patton tries to interject but Logan continues, probably not even noticing that the other had spoken.

“You trust me so little, that you cannot even consider that I make decisions for my own well-being without consulting you? After pushing me aside again and again, you concluded that I cannot take care of myself? I have listed reasons for my decision in the letter I left you. Did you even consider those? Or did you assume that I would continue to let you figuratively walk all over me?” Logan takes a few deep breaths, the others stunned into silence. Once he feels like he is back in control of himself, the logical side continues, in his normal speaking voice.

“To me it is obvious that our current co-existence is neither beneficial to Thomas nor ourselves. We continue to figuratively turn in circles and no issues are truly being resolved. We all are stressed out, which makes finding a compromise even more unlikely. I had discussions on this topic with both Janus and Remus, as well as smaller conversations with all of you, if you cared to remember. And the conclusion I reached in the end was that we needed to take a step back and reevaluate. So, in order to do that, I asked Remus to help me arrange a place to stay for a few days to give us all time to reflect. He ended up inviting me here, to his library and I decided to extend my original idea into a vacation. I assure you, this all happened through my own volition.” With his arms crossed, he stares at the others, apparently awaiting an answer. Patton was the first to find his voice.

“We’re so sorry, kiddo. To us it was just a very sudden turn of events and we panicked. We should have trusted you more.”

“I trust him!” Roman huffs. “It’s Deceit and my brother that I don’t trust!” He points a finger accusingly towards Janus, who had continued to silently watch from the side and now raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Roman addresses Logan directly. “You said you talked with them about your plan but how do you know that it wasn’t part of theirs all along?!”

“Their plan to do what exactly?”

“To drive us apart, obviously! Ever since that snake showed up, we keep fighting! It must be his fault; he wants us to not trust each other so that he can influence Thomas!” Roman’s rant was undermined by his inability to truly raise his voice and none of the others seem convinced. Not even Virgil. Logan sighs.

“I understand that Janus’ past action have hurt you, Roman, but you need to accept that he is not the villain you make him out to be. He is doing his best to protect Thomas, as we all do. And he is not always in the right, none of us are. As much as I hate admitting it, my plans and wishes for Thomas are not always the answer either, which is why I try to incorporate your suggestions into my planning. But since you all seem to refuse to acknowledge my contributions in the same way, Thomas ends up neglecting his responsibilities. I would not let Janus make all the decisions, but he deserves to voice his opinions as much as the rest of us.”

“But he lured you away!”

“As I’ve already said, the decision was mine alone. Janus was the one who brought the idea of a vacation up to me first, that is true, but I was the one to decide to ask Remus for help and not discuss it with you beforehand.”

“And why didn’t you?” Virgil chimes in. Logan glances at him before turning his eyes toward the sky.

“I was trying to avoid this exact conversation. I am tired of justifying myself to you all. I needed a break, somewhere you cannot easily get to. As I’m sure you have noticed on your way here, this library is exactly what I was looking for. I am frustrated, maybe even angry with you. I raised my voice against you earlier, which I did not want to do but I just cannot hold back anymore. I need this distance from you for a while. I need to sort out my” – he stops and bites his lips for a moment before continuing – “feelings and I do not have the room or time to do so properly while in the mindscape with you all. I had hoped that I would be able to explain this to you when I came back but you couldn’t wait, apparently.”

“And you expect us to trust them in the meantime?” Roman growls, again pointing towards Janus and then down towards the river where Remus disappeared to. Logan glares at him.

“No, Roman. I expect you to trust me for once. I can take care of myself, I can defend myself against your brother and I can do so better than you, as we all have seen before.” Roman goes red in the face and tries to retort, but Patton holds him back.

“Enough. Logan’s right, we’re in the wrong here.”

“But padre-!”

“No buts, mister.” A giggle is heard from down below. “We jumped to conclusions and came here without permission. Logan is allowed to make his own choices and while I’m not happy about it either, we should trust him.” He pats Roman on the shoulder before turning back to Logan. “Then I hope you have fun, and we’ll see you soon, okay?” He said it with a smile, but Logan frown deepens.

“Stop patronizing me, Patton. I am the same age as you and it’s demeaning. I do not need your permission to stay here.”

“I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I- “ Patton stutters, embarrassed and not able to meet Logan’s eyes. Virgil sighs.

“Let’s just get out of here. We all have a lot to think about, apparently.” Roman clicks his tongue but doesn’t argue. Patton nods and stares at the ground. “Hope you have a nice break, Lo. See ya.”

“That is the plan. Please leave now,” is all Logan says before turning away and going back to his book. Janus claps his hands together, gathering the attention of the others.

“Follow me, there is a shortcut out of here.”

“Let me guess, it only works one way?” Roman huffs, his voice still quieter than he’d like. The effect would likely only disappear once he’s out of Remus’ territory.

“Very clever, my prince,” Janus says and claps his hands again, this time in mock applause. “100 points for Gryffindor.” Roman glares at him but even he has lost the will to continue their arguments.

The group makes their way back in silence, through the jungle, down a hidden elevator off to the right of the gallery, out a side door of the building and back towards the mindscape. Patton is the only one who glances back towards Logan before he is obscured by the foliage of the jungle, but the logical side is already back on the chaise longue, drinking his still hot beverage.

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

Due to the sounds still being muted, Logan could clearly hear the ‘ding’ of the elevator, signaling the departure of the others. With a sigh he puts the book down that he had only pretended to read. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes tiredly. What an ordeal this has been. After setting his glasses back in place, he takes another sip of his tea – which never cools thanks to Remus’ powers. Speaking off, wet slapping sounds reverberate through the air as the Duke makes his way over to Logan, dripping wet from his impromptu bathing session.

“So, how is Bruce?”

“Fine! He tried to bite my leg off, but he only got a few scraps of flesh!”

“Are you going to heal it or do you want me to bandage it?” Remus grins and with a snap he removes his damaged pants, at least from mid-thigh down. He knows Logan’s comfort zones and nudity wasn’t one of them. At least not yet. The logical side sighs as he summons a first aid kit. “Why am I not surprised?”

“’Cause you know I like it when you bondage me!”

“You mean ‘bandage me’, correct?”

“I know what I said.” Logan rolls his eyes and starts examining and dressing Remus’ wounds which, while bleeding, were all pretty superficial. For a few moments, he worked in silence, but as usual with Remus around, that didn’t last long.

“Felt good, right?”

“I do not know what you are referring to.”

“Pff, don’t bullshit me, Lolo. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Fine, but I do not wish to comment on whether I found it satisfactory or not.”

“You can be such a prude.”

“That may very well be, but I do not see how that relates to our topic.”

“Do you wanna talk about it or not?”

“I am… unsure.” Logan finishes dressing the last wound, cleans the kit up before vanishing it away. Then he sits next to Remus with a sigh. “I do feel a bit better, having said what needed to be said but I also feel like I was too harsh with them.” Remus hums a moment before answering.

“Nah, I think they needed to hear it, ‘specially Daddy-o. He’s been treating not only you but Virgin as well like kids and he needs to stop or you’ll never get anywhere. Breaking out of your mold is exactly what you need, and they need to accept that.” Logan nods along but doesn’t look all that convinced.

“I am aware, but it still feels” – he grimaces at the word – “weird. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“And that’s fine, Specs! You only just accepted that you have feelings, it’s gonna take a bit to figure them out. And dear Tomathy is in a weird place at the moment anyway, so it’s double confusing.”

“I am exhausted.”

“No wonder. Wanna take a nap?”

“Are you going to dry off first?”

“Ugh, fine. But only for you, Nerdy Wolverine!”