#I wrote Ray’s line about protecting others and I just had to have made him die first

[all54321]

Prisoners’ Hope

Summery: With nothing to do beside waiting for a horrible fate, the prisoners of the Watchers recall happier times. This way, at least someone can share the news with those they love.

Some snippets of moments during Grian’s capture. The first one takes place a good while into it, while the rest are spread throughout the rest of the time.

Warnings for mentions of death, torture, and experimentation as well. Nothing in detail, but they talk about it.

—————

Grian holds his knees to his chest, wings hanging limply behind him. He’s not sure if it will work, but… well, he’s already losing hope, it can’t get much worse from here. If talking about their families helps, then he’ll listen.

“I’m the oldest of my siblings,” Ray begins, moving closer to the bars of his cell. “Our parents weren’t the best, so I was the one who raised them. We… we’re all really close still.” He cracks a grin, “within a few minutes travel close.” It feels hollow.

“I’m really close to my sister too,” Cassie says, “we’re twins.”

“The oldest of my siblings are twins too,” Ray says, his smile seeming a little bit more real. He looks around at the others, “anyone else here related to a twin?”

“Me,” Grian speaks before he can even think it through. He shrinks back when everyone looks at him, “but, um, she doesn’t live around here. It’s been a while since we talked. I regret that now,” Grian adds on, voice just a whisper. He looks away to avoid their gazes.

After a minute Cassie speaks again, “me and Karie, my twin, are as thick as thieves. Cause problems like that too, we drove our parents crazy.” She laughs, it’s not fully hollow, “we’re close knit still. Parents live out of town,” she pauses before continuing, tone quieter, “we talk regularly though.”

Now if that isn’t a stab to his heart… Not that Grian can blame her, it’s his own fault after all.

~

“Not that I want to bash your topic choices,” Adrian begins, “but all I’m hearing about is blood family.”

“Is that an issue?” Lily asks, tone curious and genuine.

“Nah, I’m just starting to think that I’m the only one here who’s only close family is a partner.”

“Tell us about them then,” Cassie prompts him. Grian can’t help but be curious as well.

“Her name is Anna and we’ve been dating for some years now.” A wistful smile crosses his face, “I was planning on proposing to her before this. Went through so much effort to make sure the ring was hidden, she sniffs out secrets better then a wolf to meat. She probably found it.” His smile falls, “I wish I could have seen her expression when she did.”

“I’m sorry, man,” Ray murmurs.

“I just have to keep hope that I’ll see her again.”

“I feel that,” Grian speaks, meeting his eyes. “Just hoping I can see my boyfriend at least one more time.”

“Mhm,” Adrian hums, “Anna and I did everything together. We’re only really apart when we’re working. There’s never a dull moment around our place with her around.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms. “She could bring humor and light to any situation as well. Probably even this one honestly, I’m glad she’s not here though.”

“Scar’s the same,” Grian murmurs, letting himself think about happier times, even if it leaves an ache in his chest. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone kinder or with a bigger heart. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Adrian chuckles, there’s definitely humor in it now, “I feel the same about Anna, I’d be a mess without her.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a mess, but I can’t imagine my life without him.”

“They sound wonderful,” Lily murmurs with a light smile. “I’ve had a crush on my best friend for a while now, couldn’t bring myself to say anything though. Guess this is a lesson that I shouldn’t delay doing things. Too bad I learned it too late.”

“Hey, no,” Ray says, a protest, but a gentle one. “We’re going to get out of here. I won’t give up until we do.”*

Erika smiles, “thanks Ray. For putting in the effort to keep things positive. This would be way worse without you.”

“I mean it,” Ray says, “I’m going to do everything I can to get all of us out of here.”

“I don’t know what I’d be able to do,” Grian begins, confidence boosted by Ray’s passion. “But I hate sitting around powerless, so I’ll help any way I can.”

~

“It’s been a few hours,” Erika whispers, staring down the hall, tense.

“Do you think something has happened to him?” Adrian asks, worry clear.

“A test has never taken this long before,” Grian murmurs, sitting up and fully focusing on where they last saw Ray.

“What if he succeeded?” Cassie whispers, voice cautious, like she’s too afraid to hope.

None of them answer, all tense as they wait, fear and hope clashing with different strengths.

Not much longer two watchers stalk down the hallway, empty handed. Besides a key. They open one door and beckon towards Erika, “come.” She startles, stepping back. Without hesitation, one of them steps inside and grabs her, dragging her out and away.

“Wait!” Adrian calls, “what happened to Ray?”

The other watcher turns to look at them, “he wasn’t strong enough to handle our gifts.” They leave, ignoring the chilled silence they left in their wake.

~

“Do you think there’s much hope left?” Lily whispers, legs pulled up to her chest with his arms and tail wrapped around them.

“We’re still alive, aren’t we?” Adrian replies, but he doesn’t sound confident.

“Just us three,” Grian says, slowly losing his own confidence. It’s not like he still isn’t trying, but they haven’t made much progress. Not to mention that each ‘gift’ The Watcher’s attempt to give them only saps their energy and strength more. Grian isn’t sure if he’s waiting to be able to use something they give him against them, or for the next one to kill him. He’d rather not die, of course, but sometimes with the pain he feels during…

“At least some of us are, there’s still a chance,” he counters, clearly trying to keep his voice strong.

“You’re just trying to convince yourself, aren’t you?” Lily whispers, eyes focused on him, parts of her Iris turning purple.

“I forgot you could do that,” Adrian whispers, and his facade crumbles. He slumps against the wall, all energy seeming to drain out of him. “I’m just getting weaker over here. I’m already counting down to my death.” He glances over at Grian, “you two are the ones who have a chance of getting out of here.” He takes in a slow breath, as if steeling himself for what he’s going to say, “when you guys get out can… can you tell Anna that I love her? Tell her that I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye in person.”

Grian inhales sharply at the words, caught off guard. He composes himself after a minute, “I will. I’ll tell her,” he says solemnly. “I’ll find everyone the others mentioned too. I’ll make sure none of you will go forgotten.” If I survive. Grian doesn’t say it.

Lily stares at them for a moment before nodding too, “I promise as well.” The doubt is clear in her voice.

~

Once he’s sure he’s far enough away, Grian pulls out the paper and pen he stole. It was a risk, but he has to do it. It’s the least he could do, for not being able to save them. He writes down all of their names, followed by everything important they shared with him.

They may be dead, but Grian will keep them alive in his memories. He also has to tell their loved ones. He doesn’t want to face them and tell them that he survived while the one they loved died, but it’s his price to pay. They deserve to know the truth, deserve to have closure.

They all deserve to have a proper burial, Grian thinks bitterly. The Watcher’s destroyed the bodies of everyone who died, leaving not a single trace of them ever being there. He wished there was. To give their loved ones something to remember them by.

This is what Grian would have wanted if he died, so he has to do it for them back. Grian glances back at his wings, now colored with a purple gradient. He feels the magic coursing through his veins, ready to be summoned whenever he wants.

After all, if he can’t face his own family, why not face theirs?

—————

I’m not entirely happy with this, but it has the vibes I was going for. They’re trapped, they do their best to stay positive, everyone but Grian dies, he escapes and becomes a vigilante.

Some explanations on what the Watcher’s are doing to them: Normal people aren’t supposed to be given non natural power. Either someone is born with it or not. The Watchers are trying to forcefully give people magic. They do it in small portions to try to mitigate the risk. Which works, since in small doses the issues from the experiment failing is minimal. Over time the person’s strength and energy is sapped until they literally cannot go on anymore. If it succeeds, the person gains whatever power the Watchers chose to give them. Lily could see through lies, for example.

I really want to emphasize Grian’s line about being powerless in this AU. Because it’s a major aspect of his actions here. Before this, he was just a normal person, no powers or any abilities to make him close to a hero’s strength. Which is an issue since Grian hasn’t liked the heroes for some time as it was. He hates being powerless against them. The Watchers gave him powers, he is no longer powerless against the heroes. Somehow, something good came from this. A little bit, at least.

#my writing #the drabble saga #Grian is an avian but that is considered a normal species #not anything too special or powerful #I wrote Ray’s line about protecting others and I just had to have made him die first #it’s just the ultimate death flag #also there are more prisoners then those named #I just didn’t want to add a lot of people to short scenes #Grian has a complicated relationship with Pearl and Jimmy #which I might delve into later #but Grian is avoiding interacting with anyone as himself so he won’t be confront those issues any time soon #superhero au

[fuctacles]

Eddie, begrudgingly: Dustin's older brother is kinda fine :/

I had a craving for best friend's older brother AU so I wrote some but it's not my forte I'm out of ideas so that might be it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Edit: jokes on me I guess [Part II] [Part III]

Eddie was about to knock on his freshman friend’s door when there was a loud commotion on the other side and the door opened by itself. A guy, probably around his age, nearly ran into him in his haste to leave the house. He startled, taking Eddie in. And then taking a double take, the way Eddie was used to people doing at the sight of him.

“Who are you?” the guy asked, scrunching his nose and not meeting Eddie’s eyes.

He felt his hackles rise, venom building in his throat and ready to spit. He wasn’t expecting this on a Saturday on his friend’s doorstep, but he guessed this was the kind of town where you just couldn’t wear your battle vest in peace anywhere. His upper lip twitched ready to form a snarl, when suddenly the guy's features softened, a spark of recognition lighting up his eyes.

“Wait. Let me guess. Eddie?”

Eddie faltered, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. He frowned.

“Yeah?”

The guy's face warmed up with a smile, and Eddie was not ready for that kind of emotional rollercoaster this early in the morning.

“Dustin’s stories do not do you justice,” he says for some reason, eyeing him again. Eddie wants to shrivel up and hide. What the fuck was happening. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” he said, stepping to the side to invite him in. “I have to go to work, so you two be good, okay?” he says before waving a cheery goodbye and closing the door, disappearing just as abruptly as he showed up in front of Eddie. The inside of the house suddenly seemed dull.

Another ray of sunshine peeked from the kitchen, toothy grin and hazelnut curls.

“So you’ve met Steve!” Dustin grinned in place of a greeting.

Eddie gawked at him.

“That,” he pointed at the closed door. The sound of a car leaving the curb tickled his ears. “Was Steve?!”

“The adopted brother Steve? The Star Wars fan Steve? The badass older brother Steve?”

“Yes, all that,” Dustin nodded enthusiastically.

“I thought he was, like, 16!” Eddie flailed and it sounded like a petulant whine even to his ears. He winced.

Dustin frowned at him like he was being stupid. Eddie didn’t like that gaze, but unfortunately at this point, he was getting used to it. His younger friend leaned on the kitchen door frame watching Eddie toe off his shoes.

“He’s 19. What gave you that impression?”

Eddie frowned at his scuffed Reeboks. He nudged them with his toe to line up, looking for an answer.

“The adopted part, I think? He’s almost an adult, who adopts that old?”

He knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as he said it. He looked up at Dustin, whose face twisted uncomfortably.

“Shit, sorry man. I didn’t mean-”

Dusting clicked his tongue impatiently, interrupting him.

“It’s fine. This is an unconventional arrangement,” he said in that way when you heard something repeatedly. “I can tell you more, but after we make that character sheet, okay?”

Eddie nodded, eager to abandon his social faux pas. The Henderson’s were an unconventional unit, and that’s what he loved about them, at least from the stories Dustin shared. The guy was a little freak, just like Eddie, so it checked out his family was just as unconventional. So was Eddie’s after all.

The parallels made him warm up inside, the familiar need to protect his younger friends flaring up.

“Deal,” he nodded, following his friend inside the kitchen, where notebooks and DnD manuals already littered the table.

A couple of hours, two coffees and an unsolved argument about the intricacies of multiclassing later, they decided to take a break and Eddie could finally feast his eyes on the family photos on display. He stood in front of the newest one standing front and centre on the mantle. Steve was smiling shyly to the camera while Claudia Henderson had her arms around his shoulders and Dustin was grinning wide from his other side, hair ruffled by the older boy's hand.

“How long he has been living here?”

Dustin’s head popped out of the kitchen where he was rummaging for snacks.

“About a year. Remember the Starcourt fire?”

“Yeah?” Eddie frowned, taken aback by the seemingly unrelated question.

“Well, he’s been there and-” the boy frowned, fully stepping into the living room and crossing his arms. “Shit, Mom says I shouldn’t be babbling it around. That it’s Steve's story to tell.”

Eddie hummed, cocking his head.

“Your mom is very smart.”

Dustin unwrapped his arms, clenching his hands together.

“I guess I could tell you I mean who are you gonna tell? You just-”

Eddie raised both his hands, stopping him.

“Dude, he interrupted with all the disapproval his drug dealing nonconformist self could muster. “She’s right and that would be breaking your brother’s trust.”

“Uh. Yeah,” Dustin gulped, looking adequately ashamed at proposing the idea. “You’re right., he nodded.

This lasted about half a second because nobody could stop Henderson from being an egocentric know-it-all and since he was wrong he was now going to overcompensate for it. Of that, Eddie could be sure.

“We can go to his workplace and you could ask him!”

Eddie raised his hands again.

“Hold your horses Henderson, we’re not harassing your brother at work.” The boy was actually pouting, the little shit. “I am not that determined to hear it. I’ll just catch him another time I visit.”

That was the wrong thing to say because he wasn’t planning on being a recurring guest initially. Or maybe it was the right thing to say since Dustin positively beamed at the implication.

Maybe it was because the kid’s presence has been a good influence on him as well.

Also, while the story of Steve’s adoption didn’t seem that interesting before, the idea of a mall fire being somehow involved raised questions that were now itching the back of Eddie’s tongue. He had to ask them at some point.

*

“There’s this guy,” Eddie starts one day during lunch break. 

“Oh-ho,” Gareth murmurs with disdain, the crumbs from his sandwich falling from his lips.

“Not like that,” Eddie glowered at him, slapping against his arm. Even though it was kinda like that. “He’s picking up Henderson after Hellfire today and if we run into him, I want you guys to be civil.”

“We’re always civil,” Jeff frowns at Eddie’s backhanded accusations.

“Yeah, especially when you guys are mooning after Mrs. Wheeler.”

The comment raised a wave of loud protests from his friends.

“I am just saying-”

“You’re just saying that guy is hot and we shouldn’t ogle him?” Gareth, the worst friend he has, raised his eyebrow.

“No, I’m just-”

“You calling dibs, Munson?” John the Traitor, the Backstabber, joined in. Johned in, if you will.

‘No!” Eddie protested, maybe a little too loud. A couple of heads turned but when they saw the ruckus was coming from the freaks table, they quickly lost interest. “He’s the worst. A hunk of jock with stupid hair but!” He rose a finger. “He’s Henderson’s family. And what do we do with family members in Hellfire?”

“Lure in.”

“Lull into a fake sense of security.”

“Cast charm person.”

“Exactly,” he smirked, pointing his finger at each of them in approval. “This case is no different.”

“It feels different,” Gareth murmured under his breath, earning himself another smack on the shoulder.

*

Eddie wrapped up the session and was giving out experience points to his players when a soft knock interrupted his counting. He frowned at the door.

“Speak ‘friend’ and enter!” he hollered to his sheep’s utter glee. He grinned at them.

Dead silence was all the response he got, so he assumed whatever normie was bugging them got discouraged. But then, Henderson was turning around in his seat, yelling at the door.

“It’s from Lord of the Rings! You know this one!”

There was a shuffle on the other side where apparently, Steve came already to pick up his brother.

“Oh! Um… Melon? Was that it?”

“You may enter!” Eddie commanded with a grin straining at his cheeks. Dustin was doing a good job educating his jock brother, apparently. 

The guy pushed the door open, taking in the table full of teenagers. He waved hesitantly.

“You guys finishing up?”

“I’m handing out points, we need just a few minutes,” Eddie waved his hand. “And it’s Mellon.”

Steve frowned.

“That’s what I said.”

“Sure you did,” Eddie cocked his head condescendingly, ignoring the eyes of Corroded Coffin members staring at him. “Now sit and wait,” he gratuitously offered, snapping his fingers and pointing at a nearby bench, like Henderson’s older brother was some kind of dog.

To his surprise, he nodded shortly and obeyed, sitting down and watching him expectantly. Eddie took it as his cue to proceed. He coughed to gather his sheep's attention and went back to his meticulous calculations.

*

“That didn’t look like Charm Person to me,” Gareth hissed as soon as the younger members of Hellfire had left.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows, throwing him a look while he stuffed his campaign notes into his bag.

“You told us to be nice, but you ordered him around like he was one of the kids,” Jeff pointed out, arms crossing.

“I did not”

“You totally did.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he straightened up.

“What is this? Mutiny? Among my own kin? Ungrateful little herd I had nurtured on my own breast-”

He was interrupted by a cacophony of grossed out noises.

“Spare us the imagery, please.”

Eddie huffed indignantly, closing his bag.

“Then quit yapping. It was a singular lapse of judgement on my part,” he said with finality, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Without looking back, he walked off, hand raised in a goodbye, “Toodles, bitches.”

And he was gone.

Gareth sighed.

“Man, I love Eddie, but sometimes…” John cut himself off, shaking his head. 

“Yeah.”

*

Eddie’s been on the fence about it for some time now. But the time was ticking and he did say more than once that ‘86 was gonna be his year, so maybe it was time to pocket his ego and make some calls.

Some very, very humiliating calls.

Sighing deeply he imagined himself going to the woods and digging up a deep hole. There he imaginary buried his pride, made a fancy map to find it later, hopefully in time for his graduation, and finally dragged himself back home and in front of his phone. Next to it, he tacked on a list of numbers of all his newest sheepies in case of emergencies. Like Hellfire scheduling.

He sighed once more, slumping dramatically before dialling the first of the numbers. As he listened to the dial tone, he squared his shoulders, decided a more confident pose was in order. He was now a man of action, taking his fate in his own hands. His pride was buried deeply in the darkest corners of the forest and only a courageous-

“Har- Henderson residence, this is Steve speaking.”

Eddie’s mind went blank, completely thrown off. Who was he calling again? What for?

“Hello?”

“Is this how you pick up the phone? Did I get the wrong house? Is this the British Queen?”

“... Eddie? Is that you?”

Busted.

“What gave me away?”

“Ah, only the dramatic nonsensical ramblings.” Steve answered, amusement in his voice. 

“Thank you, I pride myself in those.” No pride! Pride is buried deep in the putrid soil of a forgotten battlefield! “But I’m here for the superior Henderson, please and thank you.” Ah yes, the Charm Person again. Somebody could think Eddie buried his Charisma along with the pride.

“Sorry, Claudia is at work right now.”

Eddie scrunched his nose, confused, the gleeful tilt to the voice in his ear irking him. Then he remembered the mom. A staple in most households.

“Har, har, Steven. The smart one.”

“Please never call him that to his face,” the man said with a resigned sigh.

“There wouldn’t be enough space in the room for both our egos if I did.”

Steve laughed then, softly and genuinely, before calling out for his younger brother.

After a loud rattle, Dustin’s lispy voice finally reached Eddie’s trailer.

“What's up?”  

The man braced himself for what he was about to request.

“I need your help with an assignment.”

*

The door opened before he could even knock. Again.

“I thought I told you not to inflate his ego.”

“No, you told me not to call him smart. It is merely a by-product of my desperate attempts at graduating,” Eddie shrugged matter-of-factly. “Besides, I don’t respond to the likes of you.” He punctuated his words by seizing the guy up before brushing past him inside the Henderson’s house.

“The likes of- Excuse me?!”

Eddie was skipping towards Dustin’s room.

“Hey big guy I’m here for my tutoring!” he announced himself, standing in the open door to his friend’s room, who quickly beckons him inside. Steve’s heavy steps follow and soon he’s the one standing in the door frame, arms crossed, while Eddie bounces on Dustin’s bed.

“What do you mean the likes of me?” he asks, almost pouting. 

“Mainstream,” offered Dustin, shuffling through stuff on his desk.

“Jocks,” added Eddie, still bouncing with glee, hair following up and down.

“Normies.”

“Pop listeners.”

“Mom friends.”

“Conformists.”

“Okay, I get it!” Steve threw his hands in the air, stopping the list that probably wouldn’t come to an end otherwise. “You’re the cool guys, have fun having your cool stuff,” he huffed angrily, grabbing the doorknob. Before he closed the door he threw one seething glance at Dustin. “Do not. Ask me for snacks,” he hissed before slamming the door shut.

Eddie flipped back on the bed, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Man, your brother is so easy to rile up,” he chuckled gleefully.

“Right?! He’s so bitchy,” Dusting turned around towards him, signature smile in place. Eddie hollered.

“He is!”

Alas, a slap of palms interrupted his delightful trashing around.

“I believe we have some physics to cover?”

Eddie groaned. Right. He didn’t come here to bother the older Henderson. Booo.

[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]

#steddie #pre steddie i guess #steve is a henderson #older brother steve #i like the simping for older brother idea but im running dry #if u have ideas for this trope feel free to drop them i might write more #the general idea is eddie finds steve attractive but is lowkey mean and teasing to him because he cant control his jockphobia #also uses it as a defense mechanism against rejection #steve in this is okay with his bisexuality #he thinks theres something there while eddie is in denial #adoption background: authorities got involved after they couldnt get a hold of harringtons after starcourt fire #with murrays help they lost custody and claudia swooped in #i know hes old but its more about legal stuff like changing his name and his parents losing any power over him #ao3 is down so heres a treat #ff #mine #st #steve harrington #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #the hendersons #The Hendersons

[lec743]

Punk! Sun & Moon (Rockstar AU)

I kind of fell in love with this AU that @kaleidoscopek9 made. Someone also wrote a short-short fic about Y/N shenanigan's with Punk! Sun & Moon and I thought I’d expand on it. Original post.

*******************************************************************************************

            You take a deep breath. The sound of the crowd reverberates around you in the reception hall. The rock show had just ended and the bass guitarist Moondrop and drummer Sundrop were at their respective autograph stations.

            You were a person with a mission. The fake marriage licenses you had in your grip made you giddy. You had the cover of the crowd to protect you. So all you had to do was get it signed then you get out of there. If they see what they’re signing, then that’ll make it all the funnier. If not, then it’ll make you feel like a Mission Impossible agent.

            You make your way towards Sundrop first, humming to one of their songs as you played it, in your head, to the Mission Impossible theme song. His fans are a bit wilder in terms of trying to get his attention. The rockstar animatronic doesn’t seem to mind that his fans were all ravenous, and he seems to actively encourage it.

            You remember one time at one of the Q&A’s that you went to that he said he likes seeing people going wild, because it feels like a true authentic part of a person’s experience at a show. It also makes him happy to see so many people enjoying his band’s music.

            You managed to squeeze your way through the crowd, and you were one of many people shoving a piece of paper towards the sun themed animatronic. You watched as Sundrop’s rays spun around his head, the smile across his face stretched so wide, if it were any wider, he’d be a loony tunes character.

            He’s such a sweetheart. He was overwhelmed but he was verbally kind and asked politely for people to give him a little room or to give him a moment.

            He passed over your fake marriage license three times before signing it. His eyes didn’t seem to register what was on it and you smiled wide.

            “Thank you!”

            Then you ducked out of the crowd.

            Next was Moondrop.

            His fans gathered around him just as thickly, but they were all in a circular line, type situation. Moondrop was signing papers with max efficiency while also complementing people’s outfits and winking at them.

            As you made your way through the crowd you could practically feel the people around you vibrating from getting just a little bit of Moondrop’s attention. It’s funny to you, because it’s not like you’re not unaffected by Moondrop’s sharp smile and laid-back personality, but pure Moondrops fans were on another level.

            You once found a youtube video of Moondrop talking about how he wants everyone to have a good time but it’s hard to do anything if all his fans try to dogpile him, not that he wasn’t flattered. And you’ve heard the stories of how people have tried to dogpile each other just for a pick thrown into the crowd by Moondrop before he got claws installed.

            Since that video and after the guitar-pick incident, the Moondrop fans have been doing exactly what the rockstar has wanted to do, to the best of their hive-mind, fan-crazed little heads could do.

            You got through to the front and people around you were calling Moondrop sexy and fine and all the other thirsty things a fan in the moment could say. You smile and join in with the shouting as you wait your turn to get your other marriage license signed. Mostly you shouted out about how much you loved the music.

            Finally, Moondrop signed your fake marriage license.

            You smiled and you were going to say thank you but then you saw the animatronic do a double take at your piece of paper.

            The two of you locked eyes for a moment as Moondrop sputtered.

            You gave the bass guitarist your most wicked smile then ducked out of the crowd, running away.

            You heard him shout for you to stop, but obviously you don’t. You don’t stop running until you get to your car, and you drive away.

            At the first red light you stop at, your mind goes over the flabbergasted look on the rockstar animatronics’ face, and you can’t help but cackle. Loud and long. Causing a cacophony of angry honking to explode behind you when you didn’t start immediately moving as the green light flashed.

            Two weeks pass by, and you see tickets for another concert of the duo Moon and Sundrop on the computer. You look up at your framed fake marriage licenses with their rockstar signatures on it. You smile wide at the sight as you lean into your computer chair. The sight of Moon’s face still fresh in your mind at how flabbergasted he was.

            Sun and Moondrop have thousands of fans. Even with their facial recognition programing, there’s no way they’d keep you in the data banks after all this time.

            You lean forward on your computer desk, and you buy the tickets. It’s always fun being able to listen to them live, you especially love listening to them singing live the song Super Nova Heart. It’s a classic in the making.

            It’s the evening of the concert and you park your car pretty far from the entrance of the stadium, having gotten to the show late because of work. You don’t mind the walk though, it’s fun seeing everyone enthusiastic show of colors as they have a party outside of the stadium or selling their wares.

            You already have your merch on. You’re wearing a replica of Moondrop’s leather jacket, and you were wearing Sundrop’s earrings. Your cheeks were painted with a moon on one side and a sun on the other. In your pockets you had silly string and glow sticks at the ready.

            You got your ticket checked in at the entrance and you started filing your way towards the stadium, hoping you can get a chair for you to stand on to look over the crowd.

            As you were walking a big, burly guard, dressed in black stood in your way.

            “Excuse me, can you come with me.”

            “Why?”

            “We have some questions we’d like you to answer.”

            “Oh, yah sure! Let me just—”

            You sprinted away from the guard. As far as you know the man’s a fraud wanting to steel your diner money you brought.

            As you ran you heard him chasing you through the crowd. You chanced a glance over your shoulder and even more men in security guard black attire were chasing you. Shit, you thought, they’re legit. Welp, you’re committed to the chase.

            You weaved through people, you ran behind stalls, you cut around corners and hid in shadows only to be found as soon as you’ve caught your breath. It took the guards an hour, but you ran circles around them before you were run ragged.

            You were held in the air as two security guards held onto you securely by each arm. You writhed and wiggled, all while kicking your feet in the air for good measure. You shouted about your rights and how you paid for your ticket and how they’re going to make you late to the opening of the show.

            You made as much of a scene as possible, you didn’t care if it made you look crazy or not, you were mad.

            Your anger slowly turned into confusion as you noticed that they weren’t taking you into some sort of back-room containment unit or some shit. They were taking you backstage. You were still being pushed and pulled but they were allowing you to walk as you had quieted down.

You were looking around the back of the stage with wide eyes. It was so cool seeing all the technical knowhow it takes to make a live show the way it is.

            You and your two captors pushed you forward past all the tech teams getting the show ready. You even heard that the show was delayed a bit.

            That’s good you guess. Whatever is going on with these guards, maybe it’ll be over soon, and you’ll get to go back with the crowd and watch the show.

            Then you see that you’re going into a quiet area where a bunch of costumes and celebrity memorabilia was hanging around, along with rooms that were named with the current celebrities that have booked the stadium for their shows. The guards dragged you to the door labeled Moondrop and Sundrop.

            All you could say was a loud, “Uuuuuuuuhh?” before the guards opened the door and shoved you into Sun and Moondrop’s dressing room.

            You stumbled on your feet, and you looked around, but the room was empty.

            A guard gruffly said, “Now you’re to stay here until further notice.”

            You spun around but they closed the door in your face.

            You kicked the door and shouted, “You could at least tell me why I’m here!”

            It was silent on the other side of the door. You try the doorknob, and it was locked. You huff at it and stare angrily at it, wishing you had heat vision. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a rack.

            Turning to face it, you saw it was a rack of Moon and Sundrop’s costumes. You squealed at the sight and immediately ran over to it and started looking through them. You saw the costume that they wore for their April Fool’s concert, that made them look like jesters. You saw their Halloween costumes, a skeleton for Sun and a sea monster for Moon. You saw a lot of their regular out fits too. You squealed at the sight of Sundrop’s Eclipse shirt. You immediately took off your jacket to put his shirt on over yours.

            You went over to the dressing room mirror to check yourself out. Hot damn, you wished you could afford these types of clothes. You feel 20% cooler wearing this. Looking down you saw that a lot of their make up was still out. The cold looking colors had to belong to Moondrop. You picked up a deep blue lipstick and you applied it onto yourself.

            For the past thirty minutes that’s what you did. You’d get distracted from your thoughts and you’d go over and mess with another one of the rockstar duo’s things. Currently you were beating on Sundrop’s drums in the room, trying to play Eclipsed Soul, when you finally heard talking outside the dressing room.

            Panicked, you looked around for a place to hide. The best place you could find was under the fainting couch.

            As soon as you scrambled underneath the sizable couch, the door creaked open, and you heard footsteps.

            “Hmmm. Now where oh where, could they be,” you recognized Moondrop’s gruff voice.

            You don’t really know why you were hiding, but you also don’t know why you were here either. The animatronic rockstar duo don’t have any weird history, but you haven’t exactly looked that deep into their past since you found their music two years ago so who knows what kind of danger, you’re in.

            You squeak when the couch above you moves suddenly. You look up to see Sundrop. One leg was propped up by the couch that he moved, and he was smiling down at you, his face plate upside down, making him look like he was frowning at you despite the smile.

            “I found our spouse, Moon!”

            “Huuuuh?” You asked loudly.

            “My. So you have,” Moondrop said as he crouched before you, “What’s the matter sweetheart, no kiss for your husbands?”

            “Uuuuuh…”

            “Wait a minute,” Sundrop scoffed, “Are you wearing my shirt?”

            “Ummmm….”

            “And it looks like they got into my make up too. Oh my, how busy you’ve been,” Moon booped you on the nose, “Naughty, naughty.”

            The boop on the nose pulled you out of your stupor. You gritted your teeth and you stood up.

            “Alright you too,” you said in a forced leveled voice, “What’s this about. What’d I ever do to you?”

            Sun put a hand over his chest, fringing hurt, “Ugh! They don’t even remember marrying us!”

            “Marrying you? I did… Oh… This is about the marriage licenses.”

            Moondrop stood up. He easily towered over you. A small part of you thought that was really hot.

            “Think we wouldn’t remember that little stunt?”

            “Well, no. That’s not,” you cleared your throat, “Look guys. They’re not real. The marriage licenses are just a joke. They’re hanging on my bedroom wall as we speak as decoration. I’m not going around telling people we’re married or anything like that.”

            “Why did you do it?” Sundrop asked.

            You shrugged.

            “I thought it was funny.”

            You stood tensely before the two animatronic rockstars as they looked at you blankly, then they looked at each other.

            When they looked at each other they burst out laughing.

            “It was kind of funny,” Sundrop said, “You got us good with those licenses. They looked so real.”

            “Yah,” you chuckled in relief with them, “that was the point.”

            “What made you want to do that,” Moondrop asked, catching his breath.

            You shrug again.

            “I like to let the winds of chaos guide my way,” you state.

            Sundrop had a lopsided smile as he pointed at you and poked you in the chest, “Hey now, don’t you go quoting our lyrics.”

            “What! It’s a good line!”

            Sundrop wrapped a mechanical arm around your shoulders and shook you lightly. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered from that.

            “You know what, I like you. You’re a ballsy little thing and I respect that,” Sundrop turned to his co-star, “What do you think?”

            Moondrop hummed contemplatively. You were sweating bullets under his intense stare.

            “I don’t know. I think they should be punished still.”

            Sundrop sighed, “Moon.”

            You looked down at your hands guiltily. You didn’t think your little prank would shake them up so much. You’ll pay for whatever emotional damages they demand of you, you guessed.

            “Instead of going back out to the crowd, they’ll watch our show from backstage,” Moondrop started.

            You looked up at him, your eyes shining at the prospect of watching them behind the scenes.

            “Then after the show, we’ll introduce them to the crowd and tell them how we became “married” to each other,” Moondrop continued.

            Your face fell. You have severe stage fright.

            “And you’ll tell the audience what your thought process was when you decided to pull that joke on us. Okay?” Moondrop finished.

            “Okay,” you mumbled.

            Moondrop gave you a sharp smile, “Good! Now let’s go. The show has been delayed long enough.”

            You grimaced as you followed them out of their dressing room.

            You enjoyed the show. Listening to their music is always the best part. You love seeing Sundrop going ham on the drums and Moondrop has the smoothest singing voice in existence. Despite all this enjoyment, you still couldn’t help but dread the end of it all.

            The final cord echoed through the stadium and the crowd cheered loudly.

            You were breathing deeply as you tried to steel your nerves for what was to come next.

            “Goodnight, everybody, you were a lovely audience,” Sundrop’s voice echoed over the speakers.

            The crowd cheered their goodbyes, and the lights went out.

            Still, you waited for what Moondrop said he wanted from you.

            “How’d you like the show,” Sundrop said as he twirled a drumstick with one hand. A proud smile stretched across his face.

            “You guys were great,” you said giving Sundrop a queasy smile.

            Moondrop came up behind his co-star and smiled at you, “You ready to go home?”

            You blanked.

            “I’m not going to speak to the crowd?”

            “Nope. Just wanted to make you squirm like you did with us,” Moondrop said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and started walking you out the backstage, “You’re just a random stranger. We’re not going to spotlight you and let our fans rip you apart. It wouldn’t be fair since you don’t have the kind of protection that we do to prevent you from being harassed to death. What happened will stay between us, but we do plan on cracking jokes about it. Okay?”

            You sigh in relief.

            “Again, I am so sorry I caused you two so much distress with my little prank. I just got wrapped up in what was funny about it.”

            Moondrop patted your shoulder as the two animatronic rockstars walked out of backstage with you.

            “Have a goodnight,” Moondrop said.

            “Can I have my shirt back,” Sundrop asked.

            You looked down at yourself to see you were still wearing what you took off the rack.

            You thought about it for a moment, then you crossed your arms and said, “No.” Then you calmly walked away.

            You heard laughter follow behind you.

There’s no way you’re going to see them in person like this again. Might as well have some mementos for this crazy night.

#fnaf #fanfiction #punk! sun & moon #punk! sun #punk! moon #kaleidoscopek9

[paragonrising]

Goose's Promo Parade begins shortly, Exquisite Beans.

But I’m going to take a moment to appreciate a few people who have made my experience on this blog wonderful ❤︎

@stxrlxrds

AAAAAAAAA I’m so glad you followed me back ;w; do you know I had a little mini panicfest when I was originally about to follow? I was petrified you wouldn’t want to interact. All your muses are fantastic, but I won’t lie, Quill has a special place in my heart with how he set off every alarm and claimed that was his plan all along.

You are a fantastic bean, and I know good things are coming your way~

@benevolentgodloki

When I saw your username, I couldn’t believe you were the same Loki I admired for years when I wrote Steve Rogers. XD I never had the nerve then to approach, and I am super thankful with Carol I was a tad braver. Your Loki is spot on, and you are the sweetest of beans.

@definitelynotaraccoon

Y’know I never knew how Carol would interact with Rocket, I never read the comics. So I had no idea what to expect other than big guns and sarcasm XD. Approaching you and your muse was incredibly easy and our thread is so much fun. I was and still am ecstatic that you’ve returned to the rpc.

You capture Rocket perfectly, and I can’t wait for our muses to have more adventures. C:

@labwebs

Carol will protect Peter 1 to the end of her days, fact. He is the sweetest, and gave her his Disney+ account to binge (which she 100% does, and probably shares it with the Guardians on movie night, let’s not lie).

Peter 3 is a fun companion to have on a spaceship, especially when he jumped up on the ceiling and Carol just sort of… stared.

You’re an amazing person to talk to, and I really enjoy reading your headcanons and thoughts that pop up on dash. Your writing is top notch and your characterisation on both muses is wonderful.

@girlofsteel

Loveliest bean, you’re sweet, kind, and patient. I adore your writing and your rendition, Kara is mwuah *chef’s kiss* Actually all your muses are perfecto, but Kara is this wonderful ray of sunshine that Carol can’t get enough of.

Also Carol has a crush, but can you blame her?  

@normaltothemax

MOON GOONS. They’re all precious. Does Carol have a favourite? Yes. Is it Jake? Also Yes. Will she ever tell him that? Maybe.

All your characters are fascinating and well written, even though I don’t interact with them, I do lurk and read <3 You’re an amazing human being, and a lot of fun to talk to and plot with.

@recklesshybrid

You came out swinging my friend, with your kindness and excitement. :D I was honestly surprised when you sent me a message so quickly after we followed one another. You’re lovely and your enthusiasm is a blessing &lt;3

Your Quill is wonderful, fun, and well written. I look forward to the adventures that our muses will go on >:3 perhaps after he finds a way to get…you know… unarrested. XD

Also, you should know that Quill is never getting his jacket back, it belongs to Carol now. >w>

@rcdlcdger

Lovely bean, did you know I have not once spelt your url correctly on the first try? xD Honestly, it took me three times just now. You are super sweet and kind, never change! You’re perfect, and I’m so thankful we get to write together and chat. :3 I hope soon when our schedules line up we can add gaming to the list.

You write a number of muses, but Nat is my favourite. I adore the sass she gives to Carol, and though Carol complains, she loves Nat and her attitude as well. Captain Adorable will always be there for her spy. 

#// suffer and endure my admiration #// yall are amazing <3 #✭ // species: flerken (positivity goose)

[apocalypse-gang]

I want to SCREAM, like as a trans Arab person the way the fandom is acting like Allison is transphobic for yelling at Viktor is driving me crazy. It feels so antiblack to me that this fandom immediately assumes transphobia when allison had valid reasons to yell at him. He nearly killed her in s1!

Yeah it's really fucking weird and gross to insinuate that her anger is automatically bigotry! So much of this crap really just bleeds misogynoir!

It's also just like.... disregarding the fact Viktor fucked up! He was wrong for lying to Allison! They wrote a trans character character that is flawed and can make the wrong choices, and people are ignoring that, and saying it's bigotry when it's not. Allison clearly states why she is so upset with him.

People just are refusing to engage with Allison's perspective in the situation, even a little bit. Allison clearly went over the line with the basement comment among many other things, but her anger at Viktor is justified in a lot of ways and understandable.

Viktor almost killed her and made her lose her voice for a year, is the reason she ended up in racist 1963 Dallas that literally traumatized her, and her daughter lost in the apocalypse. Then she had to leave the life she spent two years building up with Ray, thinking she'll be with her daughter again, but her 2019 life is erased and her daughter doesn't exist at all. But despite that Allison has been strong, and been Viktor's side. Viktor says he'll do anything to help bring Claire back, but then lies to her about what caused it to protect Harlan, and that pushed her limit. She feels betrayed by Viktor and that he betrayed Claire too, for a near stranger. It was the final straw, she's been being strong, because she loves Viktor, for so long but she can't handle it anymore!

Now we the audience, and Viktor, know Harlan. We know he was a sweet kid who's life was ruined by this power, and he isn't a bad person and didn't mean to do what he did, but Allison doesn't have the full perspective we have. She didn't know Harlan as a kid. She knows him as a dangerous and out of control man, who has a hold on her brother that reminds her too much of his serial killer manipulating ex did. She also knows that Viktor can be too easily trusting and Viktor hasn't actually known this person in the 50 years since they parted ways, and this man even ended up hurting Viktor. And then she learns that Viktor actively lied to her to protect this man who literally doomed her daughter's existence.

When I think of part of why Viktor lying about Harlan hurt so much, it's improtant to remember the end of season one. Allison was the only one to choose Viktor over the world, a world including her daughter, but here, what Allison was seeing, is Viktor was choosing Harlan over Claire, her daughter and his niece. The niece who he said he would do anything to get back to her. What she's feeling isn't that Viktor just lied to protect Harlan, but the lie was dooming Claire.

And also, I do not understand why people are mad she's being emotional or angry....she's literally in her grief of course she's going to be. Grief does that. Feeling betrayed does that.

I've also seen people say the basement and the oversized shirt comment were transphobic, which was like... no? Again, the basement comment was wayyy over the line, we are meant to see it as such, but it wasn't literally or metaphorically transphobic or whatever I saw people say. And the oversized shirt was a dig at his clothing style, and he did an equal dig at her old lifestyle right back. It's like when aluther and Allison joked about Diego's knife harness, it's the usual Hargreeves snark and the most civil Allison and Viktor had been at that point.

I really am just frustrated people are doing this. Part of me wondered if it was because they were infantilizing Viktor as a trans man, but people have been pulling this sort of shit since season one.

#before you accuse me of anything i am a trans man #tua s3 spoilers #allison hargreeves

[xocasper]

BITCH OH MY GODDD I JUST READ KISS AND TELL?!?!?!!!

i dont know how i hadnt read it yet but oh my god i literally hate you so much that was the best fic ive ever read?? it got so poetic by the end wtf

my personal favorite line was "It seemed as though you had shed your exoskeletons, leaving nothing but the reality that laid beneath layers of labels and assumptions, facades and fronts." LIKE HOLY SHIT BRO YOURE SUCH A GOOD WRITER WHAT

i just love the entire ray's sister concept, and i realy really really love how you didnt make her all naive and sheltered (esp during the smut) because i love the older brother's best friend au but people always make the reader so embarrassing HAHAHA so i really applaud how you made her confident and even snarky at times. no secondhand embarrassment in this fic!

also the reader's friendship with the other guys is YES 🙌

just total chef's kiss all around, love you cas!

OKAY SEVERAL THINGS BECAUSE I COULD WRITE AN ENTIRE RANT ON THE MAKING OF THIS FIC

1. i adore these long messages. i appreciate you sm <3

2. she’s a fucking masterpiece. i consider myself to be relatively humble but kiss and tell is my magnum opus. i will never beat her and i don’t think i want to.

3. i love writing poetic shit. i love metaphors and imagery. i think my favorite lines are either the entirety of the religious guilt passage (mainly “the taste of unholy desire graced gerard’s tongue, wicked truths and sugar-coated lies having him believe that sin would swallow him whole.” for some reason my best writing is done at ~5:30pm. i love that part. i think about it a lot, actually.) or the five senses passage! (i cant pick favorites here honestly. taste and smell absolutely fuck though, i love those lines. smoke and earth?? tongue and teeth and hands where they’re not supposed to be?? shakespeare could never!)

4. i actually wrote that part with a single stream of consciousness at roughly 1am in my notes app! i also do my best writing in my notes app, and i can’t figure out why.

side note: hearing about people’s favorite parts and when they tell me that they laughed at my jokes is the best feeling ever. i love your asks and comments so so much.

5. yeah, it was a really great request! i forgot to mention in the author’s note and stuff that i changed it to step to be more inclusive, but it’s only mentioned in the beginning. i have a couple half siblings and i’ve always considered them full, so i didn’t make it too obvious throughout the rest of the fic.

going along with being ray’s sister, i wanted to give her a sense of edginess that wasn’t overbearing. i feel like ray gets babied in a lot of fics, and i genuinely hate it. rather than making him all innocent, i gave him the overprotective brother role, and even then, i tried not to make it suffocating. he’s worried about her mixing in with the wrong crowds because he’s an outcast himself. he doesn’t baby her either, and they have a similar dynamic to the ways’, except ray’s a little more protective.

6. i didn’t want her to be naive either! the last thing i wanted was to give myself second-hand embarrassment, much less my readers. just because she’s younger doesn’t mean she hasn’t done the same shit. i don’t really picture her as a virgin with a perfect liver and lungs. fics that make the younger sister all innocent make me uncomfortable tbh; it feels like infantilization, which is frankly, really gross.

7. making the reader witty is my favorite thing to do. i don’t know why readers are never written as confident and sarcastic, and instead defaulted to boring and naive. live a little, make your reader less insufferable!

(now that i’m thinking about it, my favorite part might actually be the banter towards the end—“honey, your brother is gonna kick my ass if i sleep with you.” “baby, you’ve already got one foot in the grave for kissing me, and i’d hate for you to die a virgin.” where did that come from??)

8. i really wanted to highlight the fact that she’s friends with all of them! she’s not the annoying little sister; she’s actually pretty cool. i used the mikey way effect, if you will. frank and the reader have this goofy relationship, similar to their relationship with gerard but very platonic. they’re the kind of friends that would fake an engagement for free dessert.

mikey and the reader are the same age, and both pretty quiet compared to the rest of the group. i didn’t touch too heavily on it, but they’re definitely the kind of friends that can read each other with one look. they lay on his bedroom floor in comfortable silence and listen to music just to escape loneliness. all in all, they’ll do pretty much anything together because they simply love being around the other.

9. CAS. I AM UNWELL. I’VE ALWAYS LOVED NICKNAMES :,))

10. i love you too! thank you for reading and leaving the sweetest messages for me. it makes my day every time!

#answered asks

[watermelonsugacry]

please post more of writing fine line series!! i'm OBSESSED

Writing Fine Line: Canyon Moon

A/N: Hey lovies!! What do we think about Harry’s House? Favorite songs? Tell me all the things 💚

SUMMARY: YN and Harry have known each other since 2010 when they were put in a band together called One Direction. Since the band split up, YN and Harry have kept in close contact, may or may not have grown deeper feelings for one another and have continued to help each other create music. After having helped Harry with HS1, he has invited YN back again to Malibu to help make Fine Line. This was how Canyon Moon was made. (6.3K)

GENRE: harry x 1dbandmember!reader, friends to lovers, slow burn, 

WARNINGS: lil angsty?

side note: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary)

Since 2010 Masterlist Previous Song Here 🍄

It’s been two days since YN has taught Mitch her stoned solo from She and has helped produce the song to its completion. 

YN had mentioned to Harry later that day about needing to go back to her house soon to give her overnight bag another refill before spending another week at Kid’s Malibu home. Although she drove herself, he offered her a ride over with no hesitation, taking the opportunity to suggest a mini road trip on their way to LA.

So now YN sits in the passenger seat of Harry’s yellow Ferrari with the windows down and a pair of red heart-shaped sunnies on her face. 

Sea salt, The Flamingos, Tom Ford cologne. 

Harry sneaks a couple of glances at her from time to time from under the protection of his Ray Bans. He can’t help but admire how beautiful she looks as she rests her chin on her crossed arms on the window sill, the wind blowing across her features as he drives them down the PCH. She looks peaceful, unbothered, and absolutely stunning under the clear California sky.

She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she’s been stealing glances at him, too. His hair messily yet perfectly tousled on top of his head, a pair of sunnies resting on the bridge of his nose. The way he grips the steering wheel with one hand while his other is to his lips as he casually rests his elbow on the window ledge. The slight stubble covering his jaw and upper lip is just begging for her to run her fingers across the skin, longing for her lips to be brushed up against.

She shakes herself from those thoughts. She reminds herself that they’re just friends right now...but could they really be considered that after writing Adore You? Does he still feel that way? Was he simply writing from a place in the past? Things have changed. She wants to set some boundaries between them from the amount of whiplash she gets from her contradicting emotions towards this man. 

They’re both undeniably competitive; it’s a game of ping pong that neither one of them is willing to lose.

YN loves him—more than a best friend—but she’s paralized by fear. Fear of loving someone so much to the point where you can’t even tell which way is left or which way is right, where it’s physically impossible to be away from the other, where you can’t even breathe. Fear that she’s already there.

Maybe she knows Harry feels the same way but she’s too scared to ask about it. Instead, she'll just sit quietly in the comfort of friendship.

YN has her phone connected to his stereo, some of their favorite music sounds through the car’s sound system. It’s a mix of songs the two of them like. 

After some time, YN rolls up her window and lowers the volume on the music to let some of the quietness come back into the car.

“Think the album is coming along really well so far.”

“Yeah? Not just saying it cause your names in the credits.” He teases.

“Pft. If there was something wrong with it, you know I would have told you already.”

That’s one of the things Harry respects YN for as an artist and as a friend. She isn’t afraid to sugar coat anything when something’s not right. It’s one of things that made Harry know he wanted to bring her back to work for him. She was—and still is—pushing him to create music out of his comfort zone, to have another take in the recording booth because she knows he can hit that note better. Nudging him to write from a deeper place within himself that he was too scared to look at.

“There’s no denying that. But, yeah I think She turned out really nice—”

“Woah, woah, woah—”

“What? What?” Harry’s panic soothes over as YN reaches forward to turn the volume up on his stereo. The song You Don’t Have To Be A Star (To Be In My Show) begins to play through the small space.

He takes a glance over to YN to see her moving her upper body along to the hippie song. Her arms push and pull in front of her with her eyes closed. It’s one of the songs on their karaoke list, having sung it on countless, drunken occasions in an undeniable duet.

He’s about to start singing with her but the words get caught up in his throat as the sound of her singing.

Baby come as you are with just your heart

And I'll take you in

You're rejected and hurt

To me you're worth what you have within

Her fist appears in front of his lips as if she’s holding an invisible microphone. “Sing it, Harry!” 

“Dunno know the words.” He shrugs, a smile sitting comfortably on his lips.

“Liar.” YN yells back with a beaming smile. 

Now I don't need no superstar

'Cause I'll accept you as you are

You won't be denied 'cause I'm satisfied

With the love you inspire

As YN continues to sing, she makes her movements dramatic. Pointing out in front of her like she’s on stage, her “microphone” in her other hand. 

Oh honey, there'll be no cheering from the crowd

Just two hearts beating out loud

There'll be no parades, no tv or stage

Only me till your dying day

It’s ironic how differently those lyrics ring true to their lives now. From their two hearts just trying to find a heartbeat to the sound of their beating hearts becoming loud enough for the world to hear. 

Despite the fame, the tour, the spotlights, they’re each other’s other half. That’s something that will never change. 

“You don't have to be a star, baby, to be in my show.” The two sing together, repeating it with smiles bright enough to outshine the sun. 

It’s like he’s hearing the song for the first time again. It’s sweet, heart-wrenching, and fitting. 

Another half hour goes by before Harry’s pulling into a backlot of an all too familiar café on the corner of Beachwood street. 

"Figured we should get a bite to eat before heading to your place. Dunno about you but m’starving."

The two walk the short distance around the small building before the sight of the huge sign reading "CAFÉ" and its royal blue door adjacent to it.

After Harry and YN order their food at the front counter, they take a seat at one of the only open seating in the busy café. She thinks her favorite thing about the café is the secludedness of it all. Although LA can be anything but discreet—with its paparazzi constantly seeking the opportunity to pounce from the depths of any shadow on the street and the looming, persistent need to have a perfect exterior acceptable by the stupid standards of society—sometimes the community likes to keep to themselves, too self absorbed to bother looking anywhere other than their phone screens. 

That and the yellow and blue triangle tiles littered across the ground. Those are really cute.

As the two settle into their seats, a waiter delivers their drinks.

“I’m a Brit at heart and am always gonna love my tea but the coffee comes out whenever we come here.” YN lifts the wide mug to her lips, blowing the steam off the top before taking a sip. She hums, licking her lips as to chase the sweet taste of the brewed beverage. YN looks around to take in the small cafe. The sound of soft chatter and utensils clinking against dishware fills the space. “We used to come here quite often, didn’t we?”

The Beachwood café was discovered on a rare day off during the band’s third tour. With the itch to be anywhere but a stuffy hotel room, the two went exploring the streets of LA in search of somewhere to eat with the hope of not being spotted by fans or paparazzi. The café was small but big enough to not get noticed, cozy enough to lose track of time, and coffee good enough to break a Brit. 

Over the years, the walls of the space have seen the two come here as friends, lovers, and anything in between.

“Things have gotten a little hectic since then, huh?”

“Just a little.” YN says with a scrunch of her nose. Both of them know their jobs come with a heavy price of little to no down time but neither one of them would choose a different career path. With that also comes the little room for relationships. It’s one of things that Harry finds some comfort in with YN. They both have a clear understanding of the demanding work hours and the long travels that there’s no need to have a sit down and explain to one another about it; they both just knew.

A waitress sets down their plates before giving the two a kind smile and leaving them to enjoy their meal.

When YN looks down at her healthy, kale wrap and sweet potato fries, she instantly regrets not ordering a plate of chocolate chip pancakes like Harry instead.

“Do you want a fry?” 

Harry looks up from grabbing his utensils to his friend’s raised eyebrows and wide eyes. His eyes flicker from her face to her plate before giving her a knowing smirk. From an outsider’s perspective, her offer is simply a kind gesture to share her food. An invitation to let him snack on her plate while he eats his (a given for the two of them in any meal hour, but nonetheless). He knows her better than that.

Without a word, Harry moves his iced tea out of the way before he picks up her ceramic plate and swaps it with his. 

He plops a fry in his mouth and gives her a cheeky smile. “Yeah, I’ll take one.” YN giggles at his gesture and takes the fork from his giving hand.

“It’s kinda freaky how well you know me.” YN stabs the fluffy food before waving it towards him like a magic wand. “It’s like you can read my mind or something.” She says before sticking the fork in her mouth.

If only I could. He thinks to himself. Then I would know what’s racing through your mind all the time.

Harry kisses his teeth. “I knew you would find out sooner or later. Just don’t blow my cover, yeah? Have to keep my superhero identity a secret and all tha’.” 

“Roger that.” YN pretends to zip her lips shut, locking it at the end, and handing him the key. He plays along, leaning back in his seat to put the imaginary key in his front pants pocket, smiling at the sound of her giggling. 

Harry takes the fork from her hand. She tries her hardest to ignore the way her skin tingles at his touch or how mouth watering his jaw looks when he chews on a piece of her pancakes. 

“Oh shit, that’s good.”

“You kiss your mum with that mouth?” 

Harry wipes his thumb against the corner of his lip before bringing it to his mouth, licking off the sticky syrup there. He gives her a laugh through his nose as he looks down at his plate and begins to tear the white paper the wrap is covered in.

“My mum has been asking for you actually.”

“Been meaning to pay her a visit.” YN leans over to grab a fry from his plate. 

Harry accidentally bumps his foot with hers underneath the table. He's about to give her an apologetic smile but he just sees her head down as she cuts another piece off of her pancake stack and feels her sneaker slide further next to his.

"Do you remember that one time we did a show in London in like 2014? And had our families backstage? It was the time Anne wanted to see the tour bus."

"And then that made all the other mums want to see it too?" Harry moves the tip of his shoe along the side of hers.

"They way we all ran to the bus and chucked everything off the ground and into the spare bunk beds and the cabinets." YN giggles into the back of her hand. 

"I saw Louis throw a pile of Niall's clothes out the window." Harry chuckles. YN fully laughs at the memory. She remembers the absolute chaos that she and the boys went through to clean the nasty tour bus. YN was an organized person for the most part, but when you live in a confined space with five brothers 24/7, tidiness gets kicked out the door.

“He was so confused when he saw it outside.” She musters out through her laughter. Harry squeezes his eyes shut as he laughs, the skin beside his eyes wrinkle at the action.

Shared pancakes, coffee, and easy conversation.

On the drive to YN’s house, with a full belly and the sound of soft background music in the car, she fell asleep halfway there.

Harry pulls into YN’s secluded driveway and turns off the car. The sun was beginning to settle down for the night and so was he. 

He doesn’t have the heart to wake her; he even entertains the thought of just carrying her inside. He carefully reaches out and brushes a strand of hair out of her face. 

He looks out the windshield to her front door. Despite the sleek wood and brick modern architecture of her home, he looks fondly at her pastel yellow door. 

He always appreciates her touch in everything she owns. Hell, she’s the reason his own front door to his London home is pink. 

Her yellow door gives him comfort, a warm gooey feeling in his tummy, and a place to physically call home. 

...

Jenny paces around in front of the sink as YN sits comfortably on one of the bar stools on the kitchen island. Her manager looks over to YN with a dramatic roll of her eyes as her ex-husband rambles on over the phone. YN tries to hold back a smile as she goes back to her plate of fruit in front of her. 

Her and her manager are in the kitchen of YN's LA home and she has a couple days off before she has to leave for her next show. The two women were going over some documents, scheduling, and vague plans for her next album before they were interrupted by Jenny getting bombarded with phone calls.

"I just told you that the babysitter just called me saying that she can’t make it and I don’t have time right now.” Jenny points over to the slide glass doors that leads to the backyard and YN gives her a reassuring wave of her hand while munching on a piece of watermelon. “Go get the kids from school, Andrew...”

At the sound of one door sliding closed, YN turns her attention to the sound of keys opening her front door. She certainly wasn’t expecting anyone else over today. She’s close to calling her manager back in but her panic quickly dissipates at the sight of a head topped full of familiar brown locks, a dimpled smile, and the smell of Tom Ford cologne.

“Hi, baby.”

YN is off of her seat in an instant. Her bare feet quickly pad across her hardwood floors before she crashes her body with Harry’s. She wraps her arms around his neck and Harry bends forward enough to wrap his arms around her lower back, lifting her from the ground in a much needed hug.

“What’re you doing here?” YN softly asks into the crook of his neck.

“Wanted to surprise you.” Harry whispers into her hair. There's no other course of action but to melt into his embrace. “Did it work?”

“Mhm.” YN pulls back slightly to see his face, as if she’s making sure what she’s seeing is real. He’s supposed to be on tour right now, thousands of miles away and singing to crowds of devoted fans. Yet here he is with his arms clasped around her, clearing her of any doubt that this is a dream. “I thought you weren't coming over for another two weeks.”

“Hmm. Couldn’t wait any longer." Harry whispers, rubbing his nose with hers. Loving the way the action makes her lips tug up in a soft smile that would bring any man down to his knees. "Missed you.”

"Miss you more." YN gently runs her fingers through his hair to push it away from his eyes.  

She can’t wait a second longer before softly pressing her lips to his. “Welcome home,” She hums. She can feel him smile into the kiss and she lets out a giggle, too giddy to contain her emotions.

Home. He thinks. I’m finally home.

...

Harry's gaze turns to his right at the sound of YN stirring awake from his passenger seat. 

“Hmm? We’re home already?” YN rubs her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

“Yeah, lovie.” We’re home.

When the two walk inside YN's house, he's immediately hit with her familiar scent of vanilla. It’s not strong enough for a headache or anything but he’s certainly overwhelmed. 

“Do you want anything to drink? A snack? Still have some of the smelly vegan chips you like.” Harry chuckles seeing her carelessly kick off her shoes as she walks into the kitchen space. After setting down her duffle bag next to the door he goes to stand next to her slouched figure against the open refrigerator. She looks up to him with heavy eyes, still a little puffy from her nap.

"S'time for bed yeah?" Harry cups her jaw, rubbing his thumb over her temple. She hums in agreement, not having the energy to give him a complete answer. He gives a soft kiss to her forehead before leading them both up her spiral staircase.

YN drags her feet further into her bedroom but stops when she notices that Harry's still standing in the doorway. He lazily throws his thumb behind his shoulder.

"M'going to sleep in the guest room tonight." As much as he would love to share a bed with her tonight, he's not sure if they're there at this time of their relationship. Sure, they've slept in the same bed countless times in the past as friends or more, but with the constant back and forth of their confusing feelings, it's probably for the best.

“Thank you for today. I had a lot of fun.” YN stands before him, craning her neck to look up at him.

“Of course. Missed our little getaway trips.”

Out of habit, like a magnetic pull, the two friends lean in and give each other a quick, friendly kiss. Despite their on and off relationship, in between the chaos, it’s just become a natural thing for them to kiss each other goodbye.

He’s the one to blame for her causal affectionate behavior, but is she truly mad about it at this point?

Still close enough to feel each other’s breath on the other’s lips, YN whispers a soft, “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, YN.” Harry tries to ignore the strain on his heart as she pulls away completely. Her hand rests on the door handle before looking at her friend as he walks down the hallway.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

YN hesitates with her next words. She wants to invite him in and spend the time together, like they used to. It doesn’t have to involve anything sexual, she surely doesn’t think she could hold herself back if one thing led to another but his company alone is enough. She just doesn't want this day to come to an end.

What is she thinking about? The words race through Harry’s mind.

“See you in the morning?” She utters out instead.

“In the morning.” Harry repeats, trying his hardest not to let his expression falter from his hopeful expectations.

He waits until she closes her door before unsticking his feet from the floor and carrying himself over to the room across the hall.

Harry rolls from his back to his side before rolling to his other side and then returning to his back. He looks at the digital clock on the bedside table and the bright red numbers tell him that it's a little past 3 am. He lets out a deep sigh as he runs his hands over his face.

As quick as the kiss was, his lips haven't been able to stop themselves from tingling all over. Although they've shared plenty of friendly kisses in the past, it was the first one they've shared since they've decided to end things for the time being. 

It was so subconscious that he doesn't think that even she realized what had happened when it happened. Was she going to invite him into her room? Did she want the kiss to last longer? 

He closes his eyes once again in hopes to drown out his loud thoughts only to be snapped back open in a roll of his eyes. He throws the comforter off of his body, swings his legs over the bed and carefully twists the door handle open. He passes her door with half the mind to enter her room but his feet carry him down the stairs to the kitchen. 

He stops in his tracks at the sound of a rerun from Friends, the light of the TV casting enough brightness to capture YN's facial features. She has her knees to her chest and her chin resting on top of them.

She turns to head to look over to him with a soft smile. 

"Told you I'd see you in the morning." YN pats the cushioned seat next to her. Coming into the light from the TV, it isn't until now that she notices that Harry's merely in a pair of briefs. She has his worn out Rolling Stones t-shirt on with a pair of pajama shorts.

Harry plops himself next to her and lazily throws an arm on top of the couch behind her. 

"Whatcha you still doing up?" She questions, keeping her eyes on the screen. She lets out a short laugh through her nose as Rachel pours marinara sauce into Monica’s handbag on the TV. 

Oh you know, I couldn't stop thinking about how your lips taste and have been going mad wondering if you've been thinking about me in the same way I think about you. The usual. 

"Could ask you the same thing.”

“But I asked you first.”

“Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Same." She rests her cheek on her knee to look at him. 

He reaches out and tucks a piece of her hair away from her face and behind her ear. She lifts her head before inching it closer to his. He thinks his heart may have skipped a beat and prays that she can't hear the sound of it beating out of his chest. He meets her halfway in a gentle kiss. It’s short and sweet. It makes him feel satisfied and unsatisfied all at the same time. When they pull away, her eyes flick back and forth between his before glancing down to his lips once more. 

Harry brings his palm to her cheek, thumbing over the apple of her cheeks. "What are you thinking about?" 

"Too much." YN puts her hand over the one on her cheek. "Help me turn my mind off?"

Harry pulls her into him with a seal of their lips. The TV show is long forgotten as she turns her head to the side, deepening the kiss. Their tongues dance around each other and fingers run across skin.

She kisses the side of mouth, down his jaw to the spot below his ear. He releases a shaky breath and slides his hand down the expansion of her outer thigh. As she continues to sponge her lips around his neck, Harry's eyes briefly open to be met with the couch beside them. The memories of drunken actions, jealousy and dependency flood his mind like a tidal wave. 

Harry brings her lips back to his in hopes to push back those memories and focus on the now. He kisses her slowly, kissing her top then bottom lip before pressing his lips fully on hers. He wants to savor this moment, to draw out and drink up each gasp and hum that she gives him. 

He brings his hand to the back of her neck and leaves a trail of kisses down her throat. She leans her head back to give him as much space as possible. When he sucks on the skin where her neck meets her shoulder, she sucks in a sharp breath and brings her fingers to rake through his hair. He can't help his eyes from flicking back to the couch. 

Alcohol breath, glossy eyes, the shake of her head.

He can't make her go through that again. He can't be the boyfriend for her. She doesn't deserve that.

"Harry? Are you alright?" YN leans back to look into his eyes. "Sorry, was that too much? We can stop if you wanna...”

"What? No—I mean.” Harry lets out a deep sigh. “Sorry.” He shakes his head with a furrow of his eyebrows.

"Hey, s'alright. Got a little carried away there." YN gives him a small smile, slightly out of breath.

Harry sighs and runs his hand over his face and through his hair. He wanted to kiss her for so long now. Stayed up all night thinking about it but now he's messing it all up. He doesn't deserve her. Her understanding, her kindness, her ability to make an uncomfortable situation feel anything but.

He loves her and, boy, is he in deep.

"Do you wanna finish the rest of the episode with me? Maybe have a cuddle?"

With her doed eyes and swollen lips, how could he deny her request? He'd do just about anything she asked, all she has to do is say the word.

"O'course. C’mere."

YN snuggles deep into his side and reels in the feeling of his hand running up and down her arm.

"Who got you being so cuddly nowadays, huh?" He teases her when she wraps her arm over his torso. He jumps a bit when she playfully pinches his side.

"S'all your fault. Don't act like it's anyone else’s."

Harry smiles and brings down the throw blanket behind the couch and lays it on top of her curled up figure.

With one hand caressing her arm wrapped around him, his other hand is brought up to her head as he mindlessly massages her scalp. It doesn't take long until he hears her breathing even out.

The couch taunts him and it makes his heart sink to his stomach. 

...

YN’s eyes flutter open and she has to squint a bit from the bright ceiling of her living room, letting her know that the sun's already out. The sound of a random sitcom plays quietly from her TV.

She feels hot, a little too hot. Along with a knitted throw blanket, Harry has the majority of his body laying on top of hers, his neck comfortably tucked into the crook of hers as he softly snores.

She runs her fingers through his hair. It has its desired effect as he gently stirs awake.

"Harry?" YN whispers. He hums, cuddling himself further into her. "We need to get up."

"Five more minutes." He says into her ear, his voice is a lot deeper and raspier in the mornings. "Promise."

"But I need to pee."

Harry peels his head away from her neck and looks down at her with sleepy, hooded eyes.

Day or night, he wonders how she can possibly look so beautiful in any given moment. Her hair is spread across the cushion behind her. Her eyes blink slowly up at him as the sun makes the color of her eyes seem brighter, lighter. Her smile, gosh, that smile.

"What's the password?"

"Move, I need to pee." After a playful raise of his eyebrow, she gives him a knowing look. "Please."

Harry kisses his teeth. "Actually it was Harry's the best in the world but better luck next time." He lays himself back down only to be pinched in the arm.

"Ouch. So it’s like that? Y’know I like it rough."

"How's your mind in the gutter this early?" YN giggles.

"Ooh say it again. M'close." Harry laughs when she slaps his arm but he eventually rolls himself to the little couch space left and she wiggles her way out from under him. He lays on his back as he watches her scurry her way to the bathroom. 

When YN closes the door behind her, she leans back against it as she closes her eyes. Once she kissed Harry good night and laid underneath her sheets, she couldn’t get him out of her head. She wanted to physically be with him but had a feeling that he didn’t want the same. It must have been true since he felt so uncomfortable with kissing her last night that he literally just stopped. She didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable than he already was so she swerved past the speed bump and moved on. Ugh, she was so dumb for thinking he saw her as anything more as a friend at this point. 

After splashing some water on her face, she heads back out to find Harry in the kitchen. Her belly fills with butterflies at the sight of him moving around her kitchen with such ease. He opens each cabinet with the knowledge of what’s in it. After putting two mugs on the island table, he lifts his gaze to hers.

“Good morning, lovie.”

“Morning.” She hums.

Harry pours hot water from the kettle into their mugs and the two quietly make their cups of tea.

“Anything you need to do before we leave?” Harry says as he moves his tea bag up and down before taking a sip.

“Gonna have a quick shower and finish packing then we should be good to head out.” YN sturs her honey into her tea before tapping her spoon against the rim before sticking it into her mouth. 

“YN?”

“Hmm?”

Harry leans a little forward, unable to keep his body from being apart from hers. 

"Do, do you..." 

Do you regret the kiss? Do you wanna kiss again? Does your heart flutter every time I’m near you like mine does? Do you still have feelings for me?

She watches as he takes a glance somewhere behind her before looking down to his mug. “Do you mind if I have a shower first?” He internally cringes at himself.

“Course not. Go ahead.”

As Harry truges up the stairs, YN looks behind herself to see what he could possibly be looking at. Was there something out of place? All she sees is her couches. She brings her mug to her lips with a sigh.

What was he thinking about?

...

YN enters the studio space to find the rest of the producers talking amongst themselves as they sit in front of the huge console full with hundreds of buttons and sliders. Mitch and Harry are sitting on the couch that’s alongside the wall of the room. Mitch has an acoustic guitar ready to play as Harry sits writing down what she assumes is lyrics, the clipboard resting on his lap. He moves his head from side to side, like he’s singing the words in his head, before going back to writing.

She gives a friendly nod over Mike, one of the camera men that’s recording content for the Fine Line Documentary. It’s nice to only have one person recording the album process. It takes away some of the pressure of feeling like the team is supposed to act a certain way or hold back from conversations. YN thinks back to the times of the band’s This Is Us film and Harry's Behind the Album documentary back in 2017. 

Video recording an album is different in that it’s way more intimate than just following a couple of teenagers mess around on tour. By having just one photographer versus four in a room, being out of the way and almost forgetting that he was in the room brings a sense of ease and calmness to everyone involved. 

"Anything good?" YN plops down the coffee table in front of the two men.

"Maybe," Harry scratches his temple with the end of his pen. "Wrote it a while back but I added a bridge to it. Needs some work though."

"Can I have a listen?"

Harry nods over to Mitch and he begins his quick strumming. His fingers move sharply up and down the neck of the guitar. YN’s immediately transfixed on the upbeat melody. She can already hear the stacked harmonies, the layered guitar melodies, and the funky bass thumping. 

The world's happy waiting

Doors yellow, broken, blue

I heard Jenny saying

“Go get the kids from school.”

Mitch looks up to see YN’s reaction to the lines, she has a small smile on her lips, clearly knowing what Harry’s referring to. She has to admit, she’s a little taken aback by the lyrics. He was really all in wasn’t he?

I'll be gone too long from you.

Mitch switches from strumming to tapping the body of the guitar.

Staring at the ceiling

Two weeks and I'll be home

Carry the feeling

Through Paris, all through Rome

And I'm still thinking back to

A time under the canyon moon

He thinks she's his home? How has this become more intimate than Adore You? 

"Um, yeah." Harry lets out a nervous chuckle but tries to cover it with a cough. "That's what I got so far."

YN doesn't want to ask when he wrote it or how he meant by this random person named Jenny and her kids. She doesn't ask questions she already knows the answers to.

"I love it. S'like Crosby, Stills and Nash on steroids.” She looks at him expectedly, with a soft raise of her eyebrows towards the clipboard on his lap. "And the bridge?"

“Like I said, it’s still in the works but it goes like: Quick pause in conversation, She plays songs I've never heard, An old lover's hippie music...” He sings by himself. 

She’s back in the leather seats of his Ferrari, driving down the PCH and singing along to Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis Jr.

"Pretends not to know the words." YN sings, making Harry's dimples dig into his cheek. "So I'll keep thinking back to a time under the Canyon Moon." YN continues. "And then you can go back to the I'll be gone too long from you part." She casually sings the last bit as Harry scribbles down the new lyrics. Maybe he wasn’t writing from a place in the past after all.

“I love harmonies and YN is just, she’s such an artist when it comes to arranging them and making them sound so cool.” Harry moves his ring-covered hands in front of him, emphasizing his points. “Like, I’m just the guy who sings and she’s the one to make all of it come together to make it be one of the greatest things I’ve ever heard.”

YN has her big, studio headphones on as she bobs her head along to her newest vocal arrangement of all of the harmonies Harry just sang for her. His repetition of “I'm going, oh, I'm going home” that plays along with some of the added adlibs brings a smile to her face.

“I don't think a lot of people know that Harry can really reach those high notes." YN motions her hand, palm down, above her head. "Like he can get up there when he wants to. Can put Mariah Carey to shame—” YN can’t hold back the laugh that erupts from the back of her throat, covering her smile with the palm of her hand. The crew members behind the camera can’t help but softly chuckle along.

From her spot on the editing desktop, YN turns her head to look to the window that’s above the studio console desk. Harry’s on the other side with headphones similar to hers as he claps rhythmically into a microphone. He catches her gaze almost immediately, a smile already tugging on his lips. 

He matches her head bobbing motion before moving his entire body to the beat of the song, never stopping his clapping.

“No, but in all seriousness,” YN sighs and wipes her watery eyes with her thumb. “He’s an amazing singer. Truly. Could he be the next Ariana Grande? Who knows—” YN bursts into another fit of laughter when Harry quickly comes in from the sideline and tucks her neck in the crook of his arm. 

“Take it back.” He laughs.

She squeals out his name as he nearly pulls her off her interview chair but she’s quick to pinch his side, making him let go immediately when she touches his ticklish spot.

YN sits on one of the chairs inside the recording room. She has a leg on top of the other with Harry's clipboard in hand. She bounces her sick covered foot up and down to the sound of Harry singing into the padded microphone who's only about an arms length away. Both of them wear their studio headphones to listen to the music.

When he finishes singing the first verse, Harry decides to do an experimental whistle riff instead of scatting it like his last take.

While still looking down at Harry's written words, YN mindlessly harmonizes his riff. 

They both look up at each other with wide eyes and curling lips in a playful scoff. She meets his outreached hand with a slap before sliding her hand down to his fingers and pulling it back with a snap of their fingers.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” YN snickers as he walks away with a hand to his side. The rest of the crew members chuckle, making sure to capture every bit of their interaction. As she fixes her hair, you can hear him distantly say ‘brat’ from his spot somewhere behind the camera.

“Wanker.” She smirks at the camera.

Next Song Here! ☎️

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee

#harry x 1dbandmember!reader #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry's house #writing fine line series #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harries

[leahblackk]

Lies Pt.1

(The gif is not mine. Whoever made this thank you and I’m sorry)

Summary: Spencer Reid and Y/n Y/L are two incredible agents with a beautiful relationship. But things get messed up when Cat Adams comes into their life.

Type: Angst. 

I changed things a little bit so there’s no spoilers for those who haven’t got into this part of the serie. Probably a second part if I dont have another block. Enjoy!

Pt.2 here

Pt.3 here

...

Y/n Y/L and Spencer Reid are some of the best FBI agents the Bureau has ever had, and all of their coworkers can tell you the same. Even those cops and agents who had to work with when the case was far from home. They were always so dedicated to their work. It wasn't a surprise when they got pretty close to each other. They had a beautiful friendship.

Their coworkers and other people they had worked with can tell you they looked so in love with each other. It wasn't a secret. The way they protected each other, the way they looked at each other. In the cases, always talking and laughing around and even got to the point where they got touchy, need to feel the other warmth. Yeah, they were in love.

But yet they were too proud to say it out loud. It took two long years to finally say it out loud. They started a beautiful relationship which, in the words of the technical analysts Penelope Garcia, their relationship was the remainder for all the team that love still exists, even when sometimes all can be sadness and death, they were the ray of sun and happiness who have entered the doors of the BAU.

But like anything can be rainbows and happiness all the time, things got messed up when Cat Adams came into the couple's life. Spencer had questions, and the only person who could give him answers was her.

Y/N on her side didn't feel right talking to Cat. It wasn't because she was jealous, she wasn't like that, and even if she were, she understands that it was vital for him to talk to her. Besides, Spencer wasn't excited either. Adding the fact that she received letters from Adams while Cat was in prison.

Cat Adams was utterly obsessed with Spencer Reid, and when she found out he was dating Dr Y/L, she got furious, so she decided to make a living hell for Spencer's little girlfriend. Writing her letters, telling her how much Spencer loved Maeve and Cat, and because he couldn't have any of them, he decided to pick Y/N as a third choice.

Y/N wasn't stupid, and she understands what Cat was trying to do, but the letters never stopped. Even in those moments when she needed comfort from all the stress, Spencer never found out what was going on.

Y/n exhaled and stood from her desk and walked through the BAU hallways with a million thoughts in her head. She stood in front of the Batcave how Penelope used to call it, and knocked on the door. After a few seconds, she heard chairs wheels moving on the floor, and later soft heels steps walking closer to the door. And then the door was opened, letting Y/N see Penelope's face. She smiled at her, and Y/N smiled as well.

"Hey pumpkin, how may I help you?" She asked and stepped aside, letting her friend inside.

"I just need some light and love into this madness," Y/N said while she sits on the empty desk aside from the computers.

"Well, you came to the right place."

Garcia could sense something wasn't okay with her. She sits on her chair and looks at her friend who was playing with her rings and with the specific one that Spencer gave her on their anniversary as a promise ring. Garcia wasn't a profiler, but she knew that the reason why she was acting particularly was because of Boy Genius.

"Tell me what is bothering that pretty mind of yours." She put her hand on her knee to give her comfort cause she knew Y/L wasn't good with talking about her feelings.

"It's just all of this thing about Spencer talking with Cat, I don't know, makes me have this weird feeling in my heart."

"Are you jealous?"

"No, I'm not. I thought that maybe was the reason, but I'm not at all. It's just, I don't know Pen." She exhales, feeling frustrated because she couldn't find the right words.

Garcia gives her a sad smile. "Look, if you were jealous, you don't have to because let me tell you that boy genius is in love with you. He wouldn't cheat on you or hurt you on purpose. Besides, with Cat? That lady is hella crazy."

Y/N chuckled and smiled at her.

"Hey, you two had a party and didn't invite me?" Emily said, walking inside of the room and sitting next to Y/N.

"Well, you are already here," Pen says.

"Is everything alright? Morgan told me Spencer was coming from his little chat with Cat."

"I hope he got the answers he needs," Garcia said, looking over at Emily.

"He didn't," JJ said in the frame of the door, looking exhausted.

"How did everything go?" Y/N asks.

JJ exhaled, walking inside and sitting in front of Emily and Y/N. "It wasn't right. She got into his skin, and he got so mad. When we're driving, he didn't want to talk with anybody. And then when we got here, he went to Hotch's office." "I hope he's okay." Y/N whispers, playing with her ring again.

"Why won't you go and talk to him? He probably wants to see you." Emily says, looking at her, but she was focused on playing with her rings.

Y/N shook her head. "When he's mad, he likes to be alone. Besides, if he went to Hotch's office for a reason."

"You don't want to talk to him, do you?" Emily asked.

Y/N could feel tears in the corner of her eyes and shook her head again. "Is not for something he did, but I don't think I will help if I go with him right now. I just feel weird, you know?"

"It has to be a reason why you feel like this, honey. "Garcia said.

Y/N nod and sigh. "When Spencer and I got together, he already met Cat, and when she found out we were dating, I don't know what happened, and she started sending me letters. She used to tell me how much Spencer loved Maeve and her, and you know I got this job months after Maeve died. Obviously, Spencer told me, but the way she described everything was so weird and hurtful, besides she told me he loved her so much and the reason he was with me it was because he couldn't have any of them and I was the third choice. I know she did it because she wanted to make me mad. But, I don't know, and today she wrote to me and told me she was going to do anything in her power to have Spencer with her again."

Y/N wiped the tear going down on her cheek.

"That bitch." Garcia said, wiping her tears because watching Y/N cry, one of her best friends, hurt her.

"Spencer knows about this?" JJ asked.

"No, he doesn't. It was nothing initially, and then I couldn't find the right moment and then all the stress we had been through. I didn't think it was a good idea."

"Baby, he's your boyfriend. He needs to know." Emily said, grabbing Y/N's tight.

"I know, but I don't think this is a good time either. Please don't tell him, I will, but not now." "Your secret is safe with us," Garcia said, and Y/N smiled at her friends.

…

When Y/N finally felt a little bit better, she walked out of Garcia's Batcave and put herself to work.

"Hey, where were you? I was looking for you." She heard her boyfriend's voice, watching him standing beside her. She looked at him and could sense how tense he was.

"I was with Garcia. How did everything go?" She already knew the answer but still asked. She watched her boyfriend sigh. She didn't notice the cup of coffee in his hand until he put it on her desk.

"It wasn't ideal, but it could've been worse."

"I'm sorry." She said, giving him a sad smile.

"It's okay. I have to talk with you about something." She could sense he was nervous.

"Yeah?"

He looked down, not wanting to tell what he was going to. He didn't want her to feel bad, but he needs her approval.

"Cat wanted a deal. Me going on a date with her so she can tell us what we need, but I needed to ask you first because I am not going to do anything you are not comfortable with because-"Spencer started rambling.

"Spence," She stops him. "It's okay. I mean, I know how bad you need to know this, so yeah, don't worry." It wasn't okay, she didn't want him to go on a date with her, but she would be selfish if she denied it.

Spencer stared at her girlfriend, he didn't think she would agree, and he would understand why. He didn't want her going on a date with someone else too. Yet, he felt relieved.

"Are you sure?"

Y/n only nodded.

…

It was now the day date. Spencer tried to find Y/n before he left, he needed to see her and ask her again if she wanted him doing that, but he didn't find her. She was getting distant from him. He felt weird not having her with him. They couldn't talk about it because Spencer knew that if she needed to speak to him, she'd.

And then with his heart hurt because he couldn't find his girlfriend, he went on a date with the woman who made her girlfriend be apart from him.

…

Y/n was doing paperwork all day, but then she received a strange call.

"Hello?" Y/n asked.

"Y/n Y/L?" The other line asked.

"Who is this?"

"I need you to come to the direction I will send you on a message, alone, please. I need you to save me."

"Who is this?" She asked again, more confused than ever.

"Emily Johnson, please come. She said that If you come with anyone else, she is going to kill me, please. I am scared."

Emily Johnson was one of the victims they were looking for a few months before, but for reasons the team didn't know, the case got closed, declaring Emily Johnson dead. The line went dead, and Y/n didn't know what to do. She knew that she might get in trouble if she goes alone, but she might kill her if Y/n doesn't go.

She grabbed her things and walked out of the Bureau. And then she received a message with the direction. Biting her lip, Y/n got into her car and started driving.

…

Y/n stood in front of a brown apartment door with the number 206. She took out her gun and opened the door softly. She walked inside, closing the door behind her, watching Emily Johnson tied on a chair, tears coming down her face. When Emily watched Y/n, she started moving and tried to talk, but she couldn't because of the tape on her mouth.

Y/n walked where she was. "Hey, it's okay. Everything is okay. You're okay. It is over now." Y/n took the tape out of her mouth, and Emily started crying again.

"Thank you, thank you so much. I thought she was going to kill me."

"I need you to tell me who she is." She started taking off the string who kept her in the chair.

And then the door got open, and Y/n retook her gun, pointing to the door. Her heart got broken when she saw what was in front of her. Spencer, her boyfriend kissing Cat, with his hands on her hair. Y/n put down her gun, and then Spencer pulled away from Cat, watching her, but Cat was watching Y/n with a smile.

Spencer, confused, looked where Cat was looking, and his heart got paralyzed. There was his girlfriend, looking at them with tears in her precious eyes.

"Y/n," Spencer said with all the guilt in the world. Shaking.

"It's her! Y/n, it's her." Emily said, and Y/n came out of her shook.

"Hello, Y/n, it is so nice to see you," Cat said with a smile.

"Sadly, the feeling is not reciprocated. And it's Doctor Y/L for you, " Y/n said. She untied the girl who was shaking and took her hand. "I will return you to your parents, okay? But we need to go with someone first." The girl nodded. Y/n looked at Spencer with disgust. He looked at her with guilt, trying to figure out what to do or what to say.

"Doctor Reid, I hope you can get Cat where she belongs, unless, of course, you want to keep her." She said, walking outside. Spencer took her arm hurt at the name she just calls him. It wasn't Spence, Spencer or even Reid. "Don't touch me."

"I told you I was going to get Spencie back," Cat said.

"What is she talking about?" Spencer asked, confused.

"Doesn't matter anymore."

And then Y/n left. Spencers biggest love went thinking he cheated on her

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler imagine #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #MGG angst #mgg fanfiction #mgg fic #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid #spencer reid angst #angst #reid #doctor reid #dr spencer reid fanfic

[zephyrcove]

Summer Thing by @zephyrcove

Well, I didn’t think I had time to write today but I came across @the-dream-team ‘s TPT for today, read the first few lines and RAN to see what the prompt was and write it myself. SO here’s the accidental 3 pages of summer Jily that I wrote for @petalstosarah training prompt tuesday :)

It was a pleasant sort of hot as they lay there, basking in the summer heat but protected by a gentle breeze. If he tilted his head ever so slightly he saw the curve of her face tucked into his side, a pointless attempt to shield her pale Irish skin from the beaming English sun. James held up a hand to cast a shadow on her features, admiring how his own tan skin soaked in the warmth unfazed by the pinkish burn that had begun to spread across her cheeks. They were silent, listening only to the sounds of nature around them, the whispering breeze rustling through the grass and the chirping of birds as they flitted through the trees behind his house. Their secluded spot in his expansive backyard afforded them privacy, tucked behind a mossy knoll in the lawn and far enough away from the house to not be seen by the prying eyes of his mother and brother. Not that those two didn’t know something was going on anyways; they always saw through his halfhearted excuses, his doting smile giving him away when he went off to meet her even as he said he was headed to Scrivenshaft’s for new ink. 

Her breathing evened out and he listened to her above the natural underscoring of the grounds, the rise and fall of her chest beside him lulling him further into the happiness of the summer heat. His hazel eyes flitted left again, taking in the golden glow of her auburn hair in the afternoon sun, framing her rosy, freckled cheeks perfectly as she dozed off contentedly beside him. He was happy to stay there for the rest of his life, frozen in this sliver of time where everything was perfectly, incandescently happy. 

But even as he lay basking in the August sun, he knew that this sliver of time could not last. It was August after all, and despite the joy of its sunny days, August alway brought September. And with September came the wake up call of normality, of school and Scotland and the marching on of time. September brought the end of their days in the sun, stifled by those chilled winds of their separate lives. So while he tried desperately to stay present in August, to get lost in the rays beaming on their faces and the bubble that they’ve formed in that golden hour, he could not help but frown at the prospect of September, the prospect of the end.

Hours passed like seconds as James pushed back the thoughts of September for one more day, focusing instead on the girl beside him. It’s as if August had two suns for him, her bright light compelling him to stay and bask just a moment longer in his happiness, in their bubble, in her. The real sun had begun to shift now towards evening and he knew that he needed to get the other home in from the night air. 

Moving for the first time in hours, he shifted towards her, pressing a warm kiss to her hair. The soft sound she made as she woke from her sunkissed nap tugged at his heart and he added that moment to the long list of memories he was keeping of the summer, of her. Lily’s eyes fluttered open and he watched in macro as her lashes gave way to emerald flashing in the setting sunlight. The corner of her pink lips tilted upwards as she smiled serenely at him, her mouth forming a breathy “‘lo”. 

“Hi there,” he smiled back at her, his eyes dancing across her features, aching to take in every second with her, building a composite memory of all that he could see and hear and feel so he would never be made to forget this summer. 

“Is it horrible?” she questioned, pulling his focus back to her eyes. “The sunburn, I mean, I think by now I know that you don’t find the whole of me repulsive.”

The smirk lit his face, as it was wont to do, and her teasing smile matched its energy. “Well not the whole of you I s’pose… your tits are pretty bangin.” Her eyes flamed as if you could floo through them and she slapped his cheek playfully, feigning offense.

“Damn right they are, you cheeky boy.” The hand she had swatted him with came to rest on his muscled chest and her eyelids fluttered lower, sultry as she leaned up to press her lips to his. The arm he wasn’t propped up on wrapped instinctively behind her, his strong, worn hand gripping her ribcage through the floral linen of her sundress, holding her tight to him. Her delicate fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt she smiled into the kiss as his tongue probed at her lower lip. When her lips parted, James deepened the kiss and rolled so he was atop her, gently lowering her back to the grass and holding himself up with his forearms framing her face. He brushed back a strand of hair as he pulled back for air and she bit her lip lightly, even as their noses were still touching, breath ragged from desire. Lily reached up and wound her hand into his curls, pulling him back down to her. His body was thrumming with feeling and with want as they continued, but her moan brought him back to August, the precursor to September,  and he pressed a final kiss to her rosy lips before he pulled back enough to look at her.

James shifted onto his hips beside her, his palms pressing into the sides of his head as he exhaled and raked his fingers through his hair. He felt Lily move beside him as well, knowing that the preemptive stop was out of character for him and that she would want to know why. He felt the weight of her hand lightly on his shoulder and he looked up at her, his eyes glowing in the sunset with a painful passion. Lily’s brow was furrowed slightly, and he resisted the urge to lift his hand and smooth that wrinkle with his thumb, not wanting his feelings to mar her pretty face.

“James…”

“Lil I-” he stopped to take a breath and she watched him carefully as he shook his fingers through his hair again. “I just- I don’t want this to end.” Her eyes glistened as she let out a small sigh through her nose, her expression one that he couldn’t quite place. Not able to bear the words that he knew were to come, he spoke again quickly.

“I know this is just a summer thing, but I want you to know that when I’m with you, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. These summer months that we’ve been together have been the best I’ve ever felt.” He shifted towards her again, nearly facing her but not yet ready to look into her eyes, afraid of the roadblock he might find there. “It’s like I was in this dark room, content and cared for, but not knowing what living with the lights on was like, and then this summer you kissed me for the first time and it’s like you turned on the light. You were the light, the sun, and now I can see… everything... and I feel so much. I can’t imagine a life where I don’t get to lay here in the sun with you where I don’t get to kiss you. I can’t imagine a September where I have to pretend like this August never happened.”

Lily’s emerald eyes shone back at him as he finally met her stare, and he only hoped that the passion he’d expressed hadn’t ruined everything. Resolute to conclude his speech, he put a calloused hand on her arm, holding her attention and conveying the magnitude of his feelings as he finished. “I know what we said, about the summer, about keeping this thing between us… contained. But I am happier than I’ve ever been. I’m in love with you. And I’m not willing to just let that go without fighting for it.”

In the moment of silence, besides James’ slightly ragged breathing, anxious from the declaration, the air around them was quiet. Even the birds paused as if they too were waiting to hear her answer. The soft wind blew by for a moment, darting in between them, as they sat in the orange glow of the setting sun, so much riding on this very moment in time. 

Within seconds the fear in his chest was cast aside as Lily surged forward and kissed him passionately, her hands clutching onto his shirt, pulling her as close to him she could get. Her hair curtained around them keeping them in their bubble as he broke from the shock and met her passion enthusiastically. His hand snaked behind her neck and held her there as she confirmed all he had ever wanted. 

Having properly kissed him, she pulled back ever so slightly, her warm breath still feathering his cheeks as she whispered to him. “The only Septembers I want are with you by my side and I never August to end. If we’re just a summer thing then summer is all year long baby, because I couldn’t handle not being yours. I’ve spent years of my life trying not to fall and two months of you in the sunshine has thrown all that out the window. I love you James. I am happiest when I am with you.”

As the sun set behind them James didn’t know what he could possibly say to top the feeling of hearing Lily Evans say that, so he did all he could think of and kissed her again. The warmth of the summer night air reminded him that the sun was still there, she was right in front of him and she was blinding, and he was happy.

#tpt #training prompt tuesday #brotp: coves and petals #petalstofish #for petals #inspired by dyl #jily #jily fanfic #jily romance #jily fanfiction #one shot #summer thing #i caught that Tay reference I see you #harry potter #marauders era

[astarlightmonbebe]

the devil judge ep. 4: thoughts

i know i already wrote like five paragraphs of thoughts yesterday. well it turns out i had some more, though this post mostly focuses on what we learned in episode four, as well as other questions, and some analysis.

yohan and the fire.

the number one question we’re (the viewers) left with at the end of the episode is how much of the story yohan tells gaon is true. considering what we know, i would say most of it is, but likely there are some crucial parts are different. now, this isn’t only based on yohan’s cryptic, ‘i knew it, people like stories like this.’ 

here’s what we know about the fire, and about yohan:

1) in episode one, at the ending when yohan looks at gaon, he sees a fire, and remembers seeing his brother looking at him. he also remembers touching his brother’s face, with what looks like a teddy bear in his hand - which i’m pretty sure we see elijah holding in the episode four fire. since this is introduced first, in episode one, and is obviously a true flashback, i am assuming that this actually happened. however, in yohan’s events, we don’t actually see this scene. of course, it might just have been omitted between yohan crying and then him leaving the church, but it’s certainly interesting, especially because parts we see in flashback usually make an appearance when the full memory is revealed. also note that the scene of his brother looking at him happened after the fire was actually put out, in the blue lighting, when he should have already been dead - of course, it could have just been what yohan saw when he looked at gaon, or it could have actually happened. 

2) the firefighter. in episode two, i think, we see yohan looking at homeless people and checking their wrists. his motive is confirmed in episode four, when he finally finds the firefighter who stole isaac’s watch. however, the firefighter is terrified enough of yohan that he has a panic attack of sorts when he sees him and then flees, eventually accumulating in his suicide. now, this reaction seems out of proportion compared to what we saw in yohan’s flashback. yes, the firefighter is guilty of stealing from a dead person, but there’s really no reason for him to be that scared of yohan. he could have just given the watch back and run away, but he fled as if terrified for his life instead. this insinuates that the firefighter had a negative experience with yohan during the church fire. also i’m 99% sure that the watch yohan takes back is the same one he gave to gaon which is interesting for many reasons.

3) elijah herself seems to hate yohan. now, this could be because she hates him for leaving her parents there and rescuing her instead of trying to save them, but apparently she wants him dead, which is a little concerning, especially since they are uncle and niece and live together. her reaction is strange towards someone who supposedly saved her life, and it doesn’t just seem to be because she wishes she hadn’t survived, etc. 

4) yohan’s line at the end itself. this line clearly indicates that he told his story for the purpose of manipulating gaon. if the story itself is more sinister, it makes sense for him to share a version that would make gaon clearly empathize with him.

my conclusion based on all of this is that the events likely happened in the order, but that yohan’s position in all of this might have differed a bit, and not been as heroic as initially described. yohan genuinely hates the people in power, believes in the cruelty of the world, and has a reason to. however, he also benefits immensely from making the events more sympathetic towards him, which makes it hard for us, as viewers, to completely trust him. all i can say is that i hope he’s not lying entirely, because if he lied with the purpose of manipulating gaon and steering him away from the actual truth, by telling a story he knew would make gaon feel strongly about due to his own trauma and backstory, then that’s just a disaster in the making.   

gaon as isaac’s lookalike.

this episode clearly established the story of kang isaac, who gaon shares a remarkable similarity to. there’s a possibility that he is isaac’s son, but that feels like it wouldn’t fit. gaon looks like he’s in his mid to late twenties. yohan is probably somewhere in his thirties, but it’s hard to tell with men that look like that lol. there’s at least a ten year age gap between them in my opinion. elijah is probably in her mid teens, given it has been ten years since the fire and she was a young child then. still, the ages don’t exactly match up, and there’s no scenario for how that could have occured, so why does he look exactly like isaac? 

there’s also the fact that no one else has noted his resemblance to isaac. i can understand why the other rich people didn’t, but jung sunah spoke directly to gaon about isaac, but didn’t seem to note any similarity. now, it has been ten years since his death, and i think if people aren’t looking for similarity they won’t see it, especially since glasses change a person’s face, but the jarring similarity should have at least turned some heads.

yohan is seen to give gaon isaac’s watch. this is symbolic for many reasons. one of them, like yohan said, is because he’s syncing gaon to yohan’s time, another way of demonstrating how yohan is introducing gaon into his world, bringing an outsider in. but the fact that he gave gaon a watch that belonged to his dead brother who looks exactly like gaon says something else. almost as if gaon is transforming into isaac, or something weird like that. it was just weird, period, and yohan obviously made it a deliberate choice. 

gaon and yohan in general.

i already talked about them quite a bit, and a lot of other people have as well, but this episode really served. first there was the white vs. black, especially when introducing gaon to the corrupt world of the rich. the white coat initially protects gaon in a way, but he takes it off when meeting with the actual rich people, as if his kind morality is not allowed there, further demonstrated by yohan bodily throwing him out of his chair when he tried to speak up. although jinjoo also went with yohan to a social event, gaon is invited to the intimate gathering of the top tier organizations, given a seat at the table, with yohan basically wanting him to see things as they are at the moment, making him aware of what yohan himself knows.

there was also the scene in the car, when yohan jerks the wheel. i think this scene was super interesting because it clearly demonstrates how yohan is just. not really that sane. which isn’t exactly what i mean, but i don’t know how else to describe it, because yohan isn’t exactly mentally unstable, though he certainly seems to be. instead, the yohan of today is just a mirror of the yohan who the priest described as the devil. he thrives off chaos. yes, his actions as a child were inventive and clever, but it also demonstrates how yohan can and will exploit other people for no other reason than enjoyment. the live court gives him the opportunity to do this to the whole world. he has a flair for dramatics, he’s the gamemaster, carefully orchestrating everything and enjoying the results for his benefit. not only is he making himself popular, but he’s turning himself into a godlike idol, which is honestly blasphemous considering the fact that he’s a judge, but it makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that he’s been called the devil, the judge robes look like a priest’s robes instead, he has the symbol of the cross on his back (scar), etc...it all adds up, and the religious imagery is frankly insane. one wonders if he’ll end up a martyr, or cast into fiery pits. 

in cast interviews, or the clips that i’ve seen, gaon’s character has been referred to as an angel of sorts, a ray of hope. this is obviously in stark contrast to yohan, who is darkness, who is gray morality. gaon believes in the idea of justice taught in school, which i think makes sense when you consider the fact that his childhood was likely extremely unfair: living in poverty, parents killing themselves because of debt. he believes in lawful justice almost as if he has to, to have a chance to change things. he doesn’t understand what yohan is trying to make him understand: that lawful justice will never apply to the rich, that fairness doesn’t matter to million and billionaires, because they can change the law however they please the suit their benefits. it’s funny because that is what yohan is proving with the public, that the rich can be brought to justice. i’m really interested to see how their views will change when they get to know each other better and/or team up. there’s a lot of potential there (yes i’ve said this like five times. it’s all i think about right now.).

jung sunah.

i actually don’t have much more to say on that character, but as she’s revealed to be the actual head of the social responsibility foundation, we’re left wondering if mr. seo is just a figurehead, or if she just gained power by controlling him. idk if this makes sense - is she in charge charge of everything, or just in charge of mr. seo? i think next episode will more clearly demonstrate this.

the public, the ethics of live court shows, etc.

this episode was by far the most concerning one when it came to the live court show. whereas their first case was something that was clearly evil and neatly tied up, youngmin’s case was a brutal display of the power of the public and what it means when someone has the power to manipulate the public. youngmin definitely deserved to be punished. i think it’s actually super funny how his argument was that they didn’t have the right to judge him, when he did exactly that to everyone who suffered from his abuse. however, public flagellation seemed absurd. despite most people saying he deserved it, there was also the vibe that most people didn’t believe it would actually be shown. however, when it was, you could see that most of the public was deeply unsettled by this. yohan’s cult was also demonstrated in this scene, from the people cheering. 

was youngmin’s punishment justice? maybe, in a way. i don’t think there really was a punishment that would be right for him. flogging would scare him, but it also ignites his anger. in prison he might live a better life than most, but he would also be kept away from people he could hurt, which is kind of the purpose of prisons.

the flogging felt very dystopian, but i think it also showed the danger of the live court show perfectly. not only did it incite people and their bloodthirst at being offered a sort of justice, but it also showed how people feel when confronted with a decision they chose. over 95% of people chose for that punishment to be carried out, but few appeared to actually enjoy seeing it carried out. it’s a lot easier to click a button and feel as if you don’t matter in the large scheme of things than it is to see what happened as a result of you and many other people choosing to do something. it showed the power of the public, or more exactly, how yohan was able to manipulate the public into torturing cha kyunghee and ripping her family apart slowly. 

at the end of the day, i doubt few (of the viewers, at least, though i don’t really know) were actually satisfied or happy by youngmin’s punishment. it might have been satisfying to see his court breakdown, but when it comes down to it, it’s just more human suffering. 

it also begs the question of if yohan will ever be put on trial. could that even happen? it seems an almost inevitable conclusion to his trajectory right now - when you fight corruption with corruption, the only thing left when the corruption is gone is your corrupted self - but i think right now he’s also building the public as a way to protect himself, which has proved right so far. it’s interesting to wonder if the public will ever turn on him, and what will happen if public opinion shifts.

#the devil judge #tvn the devil judge #episode four #kdrama #i mean the viki translation for the ending line is wildly different from the dramanice trans #it says 'indeed people put on a show by saying things like that' #which is a little concerning for me. but yk #i'm not here to debate the prison system btw i don't have the energy for that #anyways many thoughts #i think this is all #it's mostly just me having thoughts again #bsjajs did i even say anything new WHO KNOWS

[ruzek-halstead]

i knew i loved you then (but you'd never know)

i have no self control and another fic was born out of what was supposed to be just an outline on how i would write it. sorry, not sorry. thanks @thedeathdeelers for sending in the incredible prompt that led to this fic!!

julie molina, pop princess taking on the world by storm, with her trusty bodyguard by her side. a short take on how luke and julie fall in love while travelling the world. 

bodyguard au

masterlist

For as long as she could remember, Julie Molina couldn’t picture herself doing anything except performing in front of screaming fans every night. It was everything she ever wanted. She would practice by herself in front of her mirror, giggling when she spotted her mom peeking from the doorway. Sometimes Rose would join her, grabbing Julie’s hairbrush to harmonize with her daughter. Julie would sometimes stop and stare in awe at her mother’s range; every shred of talent Julie had was because of her. It was their routine, their tradition. Until it wasn’t. 

After her mother’s death, it took Julie a while to be able to sing; by herself in front of the mirror and in front of anyone else. Why should she get the opportunity to showcase her talent when the entire reason she had any at all wasn’t there to see it anymore? But then she realized the only way to rid herself of the anger and hurt she was feeling, was to write it down. Her words eventually transformed into song lyrics, and without even realizing it, she started singing again. It happened gradually, to the point where she didn’t even notice what a massive change it was for her. Then she started playing for an audience; she needed an outlet for her thoughts and feelings and this was the perfect opportunity for her. When she was noticed by a producer at random, it didn’t even hit her until she was signing her first ever record deal. Julie signed the papers, stepped into the bathroom and cried for a solid ten minutes. She wanted so badly for her mom to be here with her, to witness this monumental moment. Julie knew, no matter what, Rose was looking down from above, beaming with pride. She promised herself she would do this for her, to make her proud. That was how Julie found herself on her third tour, following her third number one album. Her first album went straight to number one. Julie remembered the moment she found out; she was grocery shopping with her father when she received a call from her label to give her the good news. Both she and Ray couldn’t contain the screams of excitement as they jumped around in the cereal aisle. After that, everything changed for Julie. In preparation for her first local tour, multiple people were hired to take part of the crew; so many that Julie couldn't possibly name them all. She was appreciative of every single one, especially the ones in her immediate circle. While she played her piano mostly, she still needed a band for the road; that was how she met Alex, Reggie and Bobby. Alex dominated on drums, throwing some sass everywhere he went. He constantly made rehearsals the place to be, sometimes maybe a bit too distracting. Reggie played the bass so passionately, Julie didn't think she'd ever met someone so passionate about an instrument. He always kept her laughing in rehearsals, especially with his dances as he played. Bobby took the lead as their rhythm guitarist; he was quiet and shy, but when he joined in on the other boy's shenanigans, he felt completely in his element, almost like they'd been friends for ages. She loved her band so much, she insisted they accompany her on every future tour. While her first one was small and local, she never could've dreamed that she would be embarking on her third tour, this one being a world tour. It was the most exciting journey, and now at the age of twenty-two, she would be taking this trip solo. It was intimidating, but she knew she had the best team. It also happened that she had the best protection detail around. The more she was known, the faster her fanbase grew and just to be on the safe side, her label hired her a bodyguard to accompany her on the first tour. When she first met him, she was shocked; he was so young. She truly believed he could do no better of a job than she could, but during her first mobbing, he proved just how resilient he was. Julie quickly realized that when it came to her safety, Luke Patterson did not mess around. He was two years older than her, and it seemed like her label was trying to surround her with staff that she could feel comfortable around. At the time, it was her first tour and the only person she knew was her father and brother. It was nice to have people close to her age that she could pass the time with. Luke had worked with other celebrities before he landed his gig protecting Julie Molina. But he could safely say, no one he had ever met even came close to her. With someone being thrown into the limelight at such a young age, the rush of fame could very easily corrupt them. But that didn't happen with Julie. She was always so kind, so appreciative of everyone helping her dreams come true. It was so easy to get along with her, and it helped that they got on exceptionally well. He spent more time with Julie than anyone else in the crew; he quite literally watched her grow as a popstar, at how she handled her success. But she never had a wild phase. All she ever wanted to do was make her family proud and continue to make music. Julie had such a big heart. He knew it was unprofessional, but he couldn't help it - his attachment grew. By the time her third tour rolled around, they'd known each other for years; they were friends more than anything. It became normal for him to linger longer than necessary, but Julie never seemed to mind. Everyone knew he had his own space on the second tour bus for crew, but they also didn't question when he began spending more and more time in Julie's tour bus. Once again, she never objected. "What do you think of this?" Julie was clad in a pair of sweatpants and a merch hoodie. Her feet were adorned with fluffy slippers and they were hoisted on Luke's lap. They were on the road to their next city, Julie was exhausted from her show earlier that night, but she was adamant on finishing a new song. Even though she was celebrating the success from album three with a tour, she still couldn't stop herself from starting on album four. Luke always warned her that she would burn herself out, but her determination strayed beyond his wise words. Luke read over Julie's lyrics, humming thoughtfully. She was aware that he was into music, but Luke never revealed just how into music he really was. He wasn't confident enough about his vocal abilities to sing in front of a worldwide popstar, even if it was only Julie. She also knew he dabbled in writing songs, but he seriously undersold it, because if she were to ever ask to see his material, he wouldn't even be able to show her. Why wouldn't he be able to show her? Because he wasn't sure when it happened, but somewhere between their years of knowing each other, months upon months of spending every waking moment together, Luke fell in love. Every line he wrote, every word, was about Julie. "That's beautiful, Jules," he had responded softly. It was dark in the bus, only the soft lighting from the lamp beside Julie illuminating their surroundings. She was growing sleepy; playing a two hour show every night really drained the life out of her. She was hyper aware of how close Luke was next to her. She knew he wouldn't get off her bus until their next stop, wherever that may be. Julie might as well enjoy his company while she still had it. She grabbed the notebook out of his hands and tossed it aside. She also pulled her feet off his lap and curled them underneath her instead, scooting closer to lie her head comfortably on his shoulder. Luke stiffened for a moment. But then she curled her arm around his and he nearly melted. All the words died on his tongue. He wanted nothing more than to be here in the moment. He knew it was wrong. His feelings were incredibly inappropriate, but it wasn't as if he could shut them off. He didn't think his feelings affected his job performance; if anything, he felt even more motivated to keep her as safe as possible. It didn't change his behaviour with her either. He would never do anything to make her uncomfortable or ruin the bond between them. He merely suffered with his feelings in silence; it was for the best, and he knew that. Luke genuinely believed his feelings were completely one-sided. But as time went on, he started noticing things. It was Julie's first worldwide tour; the stakes were much higher and Luke knew his job was more important than ever. His focus was first and foremost on Julie's well-being, feelings be damned. He truly tried to even distance himself, keep it strictly professional. But then he noticed the way Julie's eyes would linger on him sometimes. Sometimes her smiles were softer, almost like they were just for him. At first, he thought he was absolutely losing his mind. Maybe his brain was just trying to trick him and show him just how ridiculous this whole thing was, but eventually, he couldn't deny it anymore. Not after she basically stared directly at him for the entirety of one of her love songs. And it wasn't only that. Sometimes she would hit him with some flirty comments, ones where he would actually have to take a moment because what? But then other times, she avoided him like the plague. He was having a hard time keeping up with her and pinning her down, but he was really starting to get the impression that maybe his feelings weren't completely one-sided. Eventually, she continued to avoid him like the plague (which, made his job increasingly more difficult since he was supposed to be protecting her). It made things awkward and this was supposed to be a good experience, especially for her. Every time he tried to clear the air and have an adult conversation about the tension between them, she did everything in her power to avoid it. The excuses she came up with bewildered him. He tried to be as patient as possible. This was her moment, he didn't want to ruin anything. But she knew this better than anyone, he was everything but a patient man. It all came to a head in Barcelona. Luke finally felt like he was making some progress again. Julie had actually stayed in his presence longer than needed and seemed to enjoy it as they threw some jokes back and forth. He wished her luck before she went on stage and she sent him such a blinding smile, he momentarily forgot how to breathe. So, when she finished her show, he politely congratulated her, as he did every night. He was momentarily knocked backwards a few steps as she threw herself into his arms. He was surprised, but in the absolutely best way. It had been a while since she'd felt comfortable enough to be in his embrace. Luke could feel her melting into the hug. But then it went on a second too long, or it got far too intimate for Julie because she pulled away as if he burned her. She refused to meet his gaze and mumbled something about going to change. Luke was so glad everyone around was too busy to realize what had just happened. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure what happened; all he knew was that he was feeling awkward and uncomfortable and he really wasn't sure he could go on like this any longer. She was clearly feeling something, though what that was, he wasn't sure. But her inability to have a conversation with him about it was really starting to put a strain on their professional and personal relationship. Luke wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on. Later that night, when it was time to lead Julie back to her tour bus, Luke checked out their path before bringing Julie out. Fans and paparazzi clouded their way and Luke knew he had to clear a safe way for Julie to get the few feet to her tour bus. When Julie stormed past him, his jaw dropped in shock. It took him a second to spring into action; he had to literally run to catch up with her and get in front. She knew the routine, they did this all the time. Julie always went behind Luke; always. Luke grunted angrily as Julie attempted to move past him for the fourth time since they exited the building. As soon as they reached the door of her tour bus, Julie zoomed inside and shut the door harshly behind her. Luke took a deep, calming breath before storming in after her. "What the hell was that?" Julie ignored him as she went to the fridge to grab a drink; Luke's eye twitched. "I'm responsible for your safety. How am I supposed to keep you safe if you pull that bullshit?" He was angry now and his tone conveyed that. To his utter infuriation, Julie continued to ignore him. She took a seat on the couch and grabbed the television remote. She was acting as if he wasn't even there. Luke stepped forward and captured the remote out of her hand. Her venomous eyes turned on him and he had to take a step back at the pure hatred within them. "Julie," he breathed, brokenly. He felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. "What is going on? You've been avoiding me for weeks." Her eyes seemed to soften, but her gaze was still nowhere near how she used to look at him. He wasn't sure where everything had changed. But then he watched as Julie swallowed harshly and stared at anything but him. That was when he knew. He knew this wouldn't work. He was in love with her and she couldn't even stand to be around him anymore. He couldn't do this. He couldn't protect her anymore. Not from the world and not from him. Luke's heart started to break the moment he realized what he had to do next. "I'm sorry, Julie," Luke's voice cracked with the pain he was feeling. It felt like his heart was being physically removed from his chest. "I can't do this anymore." Julie finally met his eyes, eyebrows furrowing at the glimmer of tears. "I'm compromised. I'm in love you with and I clearly can't protect you anymore. You can't even look at me." Julie felt her heart physically drop. He looked so broken, so crushed, quite literally ready to cry. He finally admitted what Julie had been trying to admit to herself for months. He was so much braver than her; he was stepping down from his job because it was the 'better' option for both of them. He was stepping down from his job because of her. Because she had ignored him for months because she wasn't brave enough to face what she was feeling. It wasn't fair to him. It was time for Julie to be the brave one. Luke was ready to leave; he had backed up a few steps closer to the door. He was giving her an opportunity to stop him, to tell him something that would change his mind, but she didn't say anything. It broke his heart all over again. Before he could turn away to leave, Julie launched forward into his arms. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, legs locked around his waist. It was the closest they'd been in weeks, the most intimate they'd been ever. The words weren't coming to her. But Luke couldn't hold her the way she needed, not until she gave him something. "Don't leave me." His arms squeezed around her almost instantly, as tightly as he possibly could. His face was buried in her curls and he sighed. It still wasn't enough. "I don't think I can stay. Not when I feel the way I do." Julie pulled back to look into his eyes, her own shimmering with unshed tears. "What if I felt the same way?" Luke forgot how to breathe. There were no words in his brain, nothing he could say in this absolutely perfect moment. He didn't need to say anything though because Julie wasn't finished. "I think I'm in love with you too," she admitted, feeling the most vulnerable she ever had in her life. "Please don't leave." Julie's head found its way to Luke's neck. She couldn't let him go; she was too scared he would leave. "I'm not going anywhere, Julie." Even with his promise, she couldn't find it in her to let him go; so, she didn't. Luke sat them down on the couch, keeping her close. When she finally pulled her head out of his neck, she was met with his sparkling green eyes, shining with pure happiness. It coaxed a giggle from her lungs and Luke joined in. The pure joy they were feeling couldn't be matched. But then their laughter died off as Julie's eyes glanced down to Luke's mouth. The energy between them changed immediately. Luke's urge to kiss her was nearly overpowering, but he wanted Julie to feel comfortable. His hand found its way up to cradle her cheek; she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and sighing in contentment. He leaned his face closer, giving her an out, if she wanted it. But she didn't. Instead, she chased his lips with her own, pressing into him. She had wasted too much time acting like a child; she wasn't going to waste anymore. Her hands found themselves in his hair, scratching at his scalp and eliciting a low moan from him. Luke senses were overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. He pushed back against Julie's lips, as she deepened the kiss, parting his lips. He kissed her fiercely, like she was the oxygen he'd been deprived of. It was the type of kiss that left little room for thought; his focus was all on feeling this moment, remembering this moment. 

Julie pulled away with a giggle to take a breath. Luke still hadn't gotten enough of her and his mouth travelled to her jaw, dropping light butterfly kisses. Julie closed her eyes in contentment, tipping her head. When his mouth moved to her neck, all logic immediately flew out of her brain. She was unable to form coherent thoughts when Luke's tongue was doing that to her neck. When she let out a whisper of a whimper, Luke popped back up with hooded eyes. "God, I'm so in love with you," he mumbled before diving back into her lips. Julie loved him too, and in that moment, she vowed to never do anything to ever make him second guess his place in her life. 

x

okay so now that i wrote ‘luke and julie falling in love while travelling the world’ i want to write an even more fledged out fic WHERE THEY ACTUALLY TOUR THE WORLD AND FALL IN LOVE. i can’t be satiated. anyway, i hope you enjoyed.

tagging a few lovely mutuals who shared some interest: @brightattheorpheum @pink-flame @missjoolee @ourstarscollided @burntchromas 

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #juke #julie molina #luke patterson #juke au #jatp au #juke fics #jatp fics #luke x julie #jatp fic #juke fic #jukebox #fics

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Guns Ain’t a Plague

I wrote some version of this story over and over. This is the version I apparently emailed to a friend in 2013 and just rediscovered in my inbox. I am staring at this and realizing how long ago 2013 was now. Oh my gosh.

Background: I was already very much all about post-apocalyptic stuff, but this takes place in a world entirely unlike - and yet strikingly like - our own. In a world where war and disease once tore the land apart, an isolated, caged city of children struggles to survive.

Until one decides to leave.

Oh man somewhere in my stuff I have all my old maps and descriptions of the different countries and the war and... I wrote so much stuff for this universe/storyline...

-

The young woman crouched where the last of the road crumbled into broken stone. It had been crushed when they exited the city, taking their horses and carriages, doctors and soldiers and history, with them. Her feet were bare and she dug her toes into the warm red earth between the cracked rock. The muscles in her legs tensed, she placed one hand for balance on the ground.

She would have to run like wind if she was going to survive this.

“Don’t,” came Tor’s familiar voice behind her. She jumped up, wondering why she was even surprised he had followed her. She had, after all, been the one to teach him how to do it. She turned around, to look him in the eye, heart aching at the idea that if she didn’t time this just right, she would never see him again.

“Ed,” The boy said in the same pleading tone, hands held out to grab her, “don’t. You can’t even think it. You’ll die, same as they all do!”

Ed rolled her eyes and shot him a baleful glare, but she was bluffing and they both knew it. The toughness fell off of her face almost immediately, and she grabbed the much younger boy, pulling him into a fierce hug.

The two of them looked so alike that they seemed mirrored, almost, the teenager and the adult just barely ten years older than him. Ed’s skin was the same dusky red-brown as Tor’s, their hair the same rich black. It even hung in the same small twists, cut short and close to their heads, although Tor’s was cut a little longer. The only difference was in their ages and in their eyes. Ed’s eyes were a deep, rich pure brown, but Tor’s were green.

Ed thought she was somewhere near twenty-five; no one was completely sure on ages here. She knew Tor had been something like two when she’d found him; herself a ragged orphan, hearing him crying from two buildings over and simply taking him home. It was better than letting him die.

“I should’ve known you’d follow me,” She said, shaking her head. “And if you’re here… Jedder came too, didn’t he?”

“I run faster’n Jedder,” Tor said, clinging to her even harder. His arms around her waist felt like they were crushing her organs and she attempted to try and loosen his grip, with no luck. “Don’t die, Ed!”

“Won’t die, Tor,” she replied. “Don’t think I will anyway. How long they been standin’ there, those towers? Ten years now? Every gun’s got to run out of bullets sometime, right?”

“Not those guns.” Torrin gestured at the small turret towers stationed every twenty feet or so as far as they both could see around the place designated as the ‘edge’ of the city. Wherever roads had gone any farther, they had been smashed to bits until the towers were up. It felt like a river of grass, weeds, broken rock and bone surrounded them, surrounded this whole ruined city, a city that no living person had ever seen before it was a pile of ghosts and disease.

Ed, for a moment, allowed her grip on Tor to be as tight as his grip on her.

“Besides,” he continued with his face still pushed against her shoulder, head still tucked just under her chin. “who’s gonna feed us if you’re dead? Who’s gonna take care of us? You always take care of us, Eddi! Always. Since everybody died you take care of us. You can’t just stop ‘cause your feet got itchy.”

“Tor, you know damn well that ain’t why I want to try this time. We can’t stay here forever. This place is full of us, we can’t keep enough food to go on livin’ like this.  It’s been over a hundred years since this city fell, by my parents’ reckoning, since they just left everyone to die. Left a city full of kids with a bunch of dead bodies and bullets, fat lot of good it’s doin’ us now. The Oracle and her folk may like this place, an’ the Keepers may think we’re stuck here carin’ for the dead, but I think… I think somebody needs to get out and prove we still exist.”

There were footsteps behind them and they turned, almost as one, with Tor’s hand still twisted in Ed’s shirt.

The sweaty, fast-breathing young man who came running up to them was not like them in the slightest. His skin and hair were the same flat and dull gray-white. Compared to Tor and Ed, his arms seemed too long, he was too skinny, his hands and feet just a mite too big to be human. His eyes were unsettling to everyone but his little chosen family; wide and far apart, set on a diagonal line in his face, they were black. He broke into a relieved smile at seeing them both standing there. “Eddi! Tor caught up with you then. He runs faster’n me!”

“That’s what I said!” Tor was entirely too proud of himself. Ed bit her lip to stop from chiding him for it.

Jedder stopped, leaning over to lean his hands flat on his thighs to try and stop gasping quite so much.

“’Course he does. Plesalka never could run to save your lives,” Ed said with a responding smile and managed to extricate her shirt from Tor’s grasp. She turned back to survey the turrets again. Old and rusting over time, evidence of Plesalka scientific genius, the kind of machines and creations that neither Letenje like Ed and Tor or the Teci had ever been able to match. Their last apology for their part in this before the Exile began.

She knew about the reason those turrets existed only her parents had hoarded the scribble writings of their own ancestors; her great-great grandmother had been alive to witness the Plague and the death, had survived long enough to make sure her children were as protected as possible.

In the end, there was only so much protection to give; scarcity of food and resources meant that no one had a very long life span here.

It was one of the reasons she was so aware of her need to leave.

“I’m going to try whether you two like it or not. I’m going to try on my own, got it? And if I make it over that rise to the other side, I will shut those turrets down somehow. I’ll bash ‘em in with one of those twisted hunks of metal lyin’ all over the damn place. Once they’re broken, you two can get over and we can leave together. We’re not gonna die here where they left all of us, thinkin’ we’d be gone eventually.” Old grief twisted in her heart; she’d lost both her parents when she was 12, when they had gone out scavenging and been caught in the middle of a battle between the old Oracle’s gang and other Scavs like them. It had been a long, lonely, horrible year before she’d found Jedder.

She crouched down again, curling her fingers around one of the broken pieces of the road here at the edge. It was heavier than it looked, warm from the constant rays of the sun. Even with the lean muscle she’d picked up in ten years of scavenging everything she ate she left out a small grunt of effort as she threw it straight at the closest turret. She missed by a long arc. The gun did not respond or move to follow the stone’s movement. “They’re gettin’ worse. They used to shoot the rocks, too.”

Jedder and Tor shared a look behind her back, unsure of what to do. Jedder, at fifteen, was still nine years Ed’s junior and Tor at twelve was a full twelve years younger. She had been as much a mother to them as a teenage girl could be when she’d found them. Jedder had been found first, a little Scav just barely staying alive by stealing from the gangs, unwelcome like all Plesalka were… Tor just two years old, crying inside a makeshift nursery, his parents dead on the floor and all their food stores stolen. She had taken them in, even knowing Jedder being Plesalka would make it harder on them.        

No one ever stopped being angry, especially since in a century the stories to explain what had happened had gotten weirder and more elaborate as told by the remaining survivors. Even the truth made it hard to forgive either the Plesalka or the Teci for what they had created, what they had done in their war on each other… even if kids like Jedder were so far removed from those events as to be a whole separate people by now.

“Eddi,” Tor said, and now his voice was starting to take on a edge of nagging worry, “Eddi, what if this doesn’t work and you die?”

“Then you and Jedder go on livin’,” Ed replied without looking back at them.

She was surveying all possible obstacles between her and the turrets. Rocks. Weeds.

Bodies.

The last made her shudder, made the already roiling pit of nervousness that was her stomach threaten to riot up her meager lunch. Some of the bodies out here weren’t even bodies anymore. It was mostly bones left for her to look at, though now and then she could see evidence of newer deaths. Some kids still went crazy and made a run for it. She herself probably counted as crazy, just to be thinking about it. Still. There was a lot of bone out here. A lot of dead people dumped here at the edge to warn away anyone who might see them, to keep visitors out, to keep the descendents of Pohroma citizens in.

Barefoot, you want to run through a burial ground, she thought, wondering if it would be the last thing she did. “I’ve taught you both how to live if you lost me. If you think you can’t stick it out just the two of you, well, the other Plesalka that’re still alive would take Jedder in, if he went to them. Tor, you know the Oracle or the Keepers would have you. They could keep you safe. Don’t you dare join up with any of the Scav gangs, though.”

“We want you,” Jedder said stubbornly. “Besides, even if you died we’d just stick together. We don’t know any other way to be but the three of us.”

“Then you better be prayin’ to somebody’s god I don’t die now, because I’m going to do this.” She didn’t wait for their response but just launched herself forward with all the speed her legs could give her.  Not being able to crouch down and prepare first had only cost her half a second, but nonetheless she felt a rush of fear that it would be a half-second too many.

She felt Tor’s fingers clutch the back of her shirt, but he couldn’t get a grip and she twisted away from him easily, running like the devil was at her heels.

There was a rusty shrieking coming from turrets that had been left abandoned, not repaired or even touched in almost twenty years. The sound filled the air, coming from nearly ten turrets who were all slowly, inexorably pointing in her direction as she ran. Birds, having made nests in the openings, took to the air in a sudden frenzy of wings and shrieking birdcalls. For a moment, the sky was dark with them.

Ed ran.

She dodged larger rocks and the corpses of both people and animals shot dead by the turrets. Dogs, rats, foxes, cats, people… all just empty bones, she told herself, trying not to let her feet even brush them as she went past.

She ran.

She caught a glint and looked up, realizing that she could see the sun shining off all the metal casing on the ground for every bullet these huge guns had ever fired. She was caught by the shine of them just long enough to distract her.

And she tripped.

She had to have tripped on a rock, she could feel the rough of it scrape all the way down from mid-calf to her ankle as she fell and went rolling, coming to a halt only when she hit another big chunk of rock a few feet away. The breath was knocked out of her and she could only gasp, frozen, realizing that the horrible groaning of the moving metal had finally come to an end.

She looked up, and was looking directly up the barrel of one of the turrets, and it was aiming at her. She could not move. She thought of her parents, long dead from the violence in this city. She thought of finding Tor at two years old, Jedder at the time the only one who keep the little toddler from crying all the time. She thought of how they had lived the last ten years as a family, kept each other safe. She thought of every time she had ever seen a wild animal gunned down by these turrets, ripped to absolute shreds by the bullets.

She flinched at the sudden click of the gun.

Click?

It echoed, bouncing off against the walls and back again and at least twenty of the turrets were clicking in a chorus and Ed began, despite the aftermath of adrenaline still pumping, to laugh.

The sound of her laughter was something just below a scream, hysterical and echoing, bouncing off against the old stone walls behind Tor and Jedder, making them jump.

It took some effort and her ankle ached in a way that told her this victory wasn’t coming to her without some price to pay, but she began to hobble back to Jedder and Tor, arms out to them, spread as wide as her smile.

“They’re empty!” She called out above the noise. “Every single one!”

Only a moment of hesitation, a look of pure relief shared between the two boys, and then they came pounding across the earth until they could throw their arms around her, the both of them at once.

“They’re empty,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Tor’s head, to the fuzzy twists of his hair, before turning to lean her forehead against Jedder’s cheek. “I knew it. They never did come back to replace ‘em, not since before I was born, at least my da said. They had to run out sooner or later.” She squeezed the two of them even tighter, then finally let them go. Reluctantly, they let go of her as well.

“Empty,” she said one more time, savoring the taste of the word.

“So we can go,” Jedder breathed out. “We can leave. I don’t. I’ve never been outside the city. No one has. We don’t even know if there’s other people out there or if everyone died in the Plague, if it hit other places, too.”

 “I don’t think it did,” Tor said, thoughtfully. “Cause otherwise why would they have had to send people to keep us locked in by replacin’ bullets, ever?” Curling his fingers in Ed’s patched and worn shirt, he shook his head. “Bet there’s a whole world full of people out there. Maybe they don’t even know about us.”

Ed smiled, but it was a smile entirely without humor.

“Let’s go show the bastards we’re still alive.”

#original writing #original fiction #writeblr #writblr #escaped whumpee #runaway whumpee #whump writing #guns tw #defiant whumpee #post-apocalyptic #post-apocalypse #post-apocalyptic fiction #dystopian fiction #fantasy fiction #sci-fi fiction #sci-fi writing #this was more of less the video game idea i once had #I tried to make it into a story #again and again #I still have Eddi rolling around inside my head sometimes #she's a badass and I love her #this is no more edited or changed than it was when I sent it to my friend

[deejadabbles]

Parkside Confessions (Yami x Reader drabble)

Due to upheavals in my personal life I’ve been unable to write much of anything for several months, so, to help get back into the swing of things I figured I’d make some presents for some people I appreciate here on tumblr. You could also say these are very very, very, very late Christmas gifts. The first one is for @readerinsertfanfiction​ who is not only an amazing writer and someone I admire, but also someone who wrote me a couple fantastic drabbles not long ago.

I know it’s February but I set this during spring time because I’m desperate for winter to be over before I break my ankle on ice while walking to work bc why not. I also kinda tried to give this a Not Quite Unrequited vibe while still making it it’s own thing, so hopefully you like it, Rif <3

Yugi took note of the way his brother was holding himself; arms crossed tight over his chest, eyes locked firmly on the ground, and lips pursed in a pout unlike any he had seen on Yami before. Yugi was struggling between wanting to laugh and actually feeling sympathy for his big brother.

Instead, the younger man put a comforting hand on Yami’s shoulder, “Hey, you don’t have to be so nervous! Just think of it like any other conversation, you guys have talked a million times before!”

He was glad to feel Yami’s muscles relax a little under his hand, though it only really served to make Yami start shifting his feet in a one-step dance of restlessness. Fidgeting was rare sign in Yami and Yugi fully started to appreciate how shot his nerves must be.

“But this isn’t just any other conversation, Aibou,” Yami muttered and if the sounds of nature in the park were any louder, Yugi might not have heard him. “I’ve practiced what I might say in my mind for over a week, yet I still feel no more prepared to say it face to face than I did two weeks ago.”

That made sense, Yami always did his best thinking on his feet. He was amazing at plans and strategies, but this wasn’t exactly the same as putting good card combinations in your Duel Monster’s deck.

Yugi felt his lips curl into a frown as he turned and peeked out from behind the line of trees they were conveniently settled behind. As always when the weekend weather was nice (and the gang had no plans to hang out) you were there, enjoying the outdoors as you worked on your tablet. Your usual bench was a bit isolated from the main part of the park, set off in the grass some ways away from the play ground and flat field others frolicked through. It was also surrounded by a spattering of trees, so a thick umbrella of leaves protected you from the sun, though your favorite hat did that job well enough. This was the third time Yami had passed through the park when you were here- only to powerwalk passed you without so much as a wave or awkward hello, despite his previous intentions of stealing some one-on-one time with you. 

Living up to the ‘ray of positivity’ title his friend’s bestowed upon him, Yugi quickly though of a solution to get Yami over there and under those trees with you. “Okay, new plan. What ever you’ve been practicing in your head- forget it, throw it out!”

Yami finally lifted his eyes from the uneven grass to blink at him, “What?”

Yugi grabbed his brother by the arm and started tugging, “You always come up with your best plans in the spur of the moment, so stop overthinking what you’re going to say and just go over there! It’ll come to you when you need it, I’m sure!” Yami’s eyes went wide as Yugi actually started (gently) shoving him in the direction of your spot. 

“Aibou, I-”

“No buts!”

“I didn’t say but!”

“Just get over there!”

Another shove with surprising strength behind it and Yami was stumbling out into the open. You hadn’t noticed, him being too far away and you too engrossed in your tablet. Yami stood frozen, like a cat caught climbing the curtains, until he let out a breath and stood straighter. That literal push was helpful, and just like other points in his life, Yami found strength in his brother’s encouragement. He could do this, it wasn’t like talking to you was anything new! It would be fine if he could forget the fact that this was the only time you two had spent alone...and push exactly why he was wanting to talk with you alone to the back of his mind.

Yami watched your bench for a moment, felt himself smile at how at peace you looked. When the breeze picked up and swept through the park, he saw the way it caught and lifted the strands of your hair. Your eyes closed against nature’s intrusion as you tucked some flowing strands behind your ear and Yami felt something warm and fluttering swell in his chest at the almost cinematic sight. That bubbly heat wasn’t new to him, he had actually grown quite accustomed to it the last few weeks. Warmth clawing up his neck and face when you smiled at him, head feeling light and stupid the few times he managed to get a laugh from you, how he wanted bury himself in the moments where you talked about your passions with that look in your eyes. All of these were signs even he couldn’t ignore. 

He had tried, gods had he tried, but he hadn’t managed it for long, he couldn’t. Couldn’t deny the way his eyes followed you like a smitten school boy, or how he scowled in disappointment (and perhaps a drop of jealousy) when he couldn’t snatch the seat next to you, nor how he longed for you to look back at him with similar feelings hidden in your gaze.

With another deep breath, Yami finally moved his feet in something other than nervous fidgeting. He could practically feel Yugi’s eyes on his back as he took strong and sure strides towards you. He passed a young couple on a walk as his mind worked through encouraging words. He tucked his hand in his pockets for a bit of security when he thought of how you would look up at him and greet him in your usually fashion. He took more calming breaths as even that mild imagery made his face heat up. He was closing in on you now, all he had to do was call out and wave and he would be one step closer to everything he had been planning and-

And without breaking stride Yami spun on his heel in a sharp U turn, stormed for a few hot-faced paces, and planted his butt firmly on a bench that was definitely not yours.

He was staring forcefully at the ground again, lips tight in annoyance, and fists clenched over his knees so tight the knuckles were already whitening. He knew he heard Yugi’s voice carried to him on the wind, but at the moment his mind was too busy scolding his love-struck cowardice.

Back in their hiding spot, Yugi huffed, wishing his beloved brother was in reach for a good shaking. “For the love of...”

Now, Yugi was not usually one for acting on impulse, but seeing his brother look so frustratingly hesitant made him act on the first plan that came to mind. Yami just needed a little push, that’s all.

Yugi ran out into the field, put his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, and in the best possible impersonation of his brother’s baritone he could muster, he yelled your name.

On the lonely bench, Yami’s heart sank when he heard a voice (trying to sound like his??) shout your name so loudly it carried across he park. His head snapped up in time to see Yugi retreating back to their previous hiding spot, darting out of sight- but not before the young man flashed him a thumbs up.

A few choice words to hurl at his brother ran through his mind, before Yami heard the voice that made a fresh wave of bubbly heat start in his chest.

“Yami? Is that you?”

Taking an almost audible gulp, Yami turned his head towards you sitting not far across the field. He prayed his dark skin would hide the blush he knew was scorching his face.

“Hello,” the tone was flat and awkward as he lifted his hand in an equally awkward gesture. 

You didn’t seem to mind, or maybe you did and were trying to spare him further embarrassment, because you nodded in greeting with a half smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I was- I” Yami cleared his throat in a hurry, “I was just taking a walk.” Somehow through the haze of panic and mortification he managed to stand up and start walking towards you. Of course he noted how his legs felt like jelly and his stride was likely very odd looking as he closed the distance. “I see you’re enjoying the nice day,” he observed, scrambling for any start to a conversation.

You nodded, “Just until it gets too hot anyway, we won’t have many more cool day like this with summer getting closer.”

“Right. I’m sure Anzu will try to get us to go to the water park when it gets hot.”

When you huffed in bemused laughter he felt some of his tension ease, especially when you said, “Probably, so I’m definitely going to enjoy the spring days while I can. Hey, you want to sit down?”

He found his lips lifting in a smile as you scooted over a bit and patted the newly freed spot beside you. He took it, glad to give his jelly legs a rest, though they were getting better with every passing moment.

“What are you working on? If you don’t mind me asking.”

And just like that you two fell into easy conversation. It didn’t take long for Yami to forget that he was alone with you for the first time, in a nice private setting. Rather it felt like any other day: you and the rest of the gang coming over for an anime marathon, all of you going to the arcade, or playing Monster World at Ryou’s house. It was...simple. Well, almost, but it was getting easier with every word and sentence. 

Of course, he eventually realized that the words to tell you the deeper things in his heart weren’t coming, like Yugi thought they would. Yami wasn’t even able to conjure up the speech he had planned when he took a second to think about it.

Then again, maybe it just wasn’t the right time. Maybe this was all he needed for now. Some time between the two of you, one on one. Something simple, though no less special. Something to help ease him into the things he wanted to say someday.

Yes, this was more than enough right now. He could tell you those deeper feelings held in his heart another day, right now he was more than content to sit by your side and enjoy your smile, your voice, and your company.

#atem x reader #yami x reader #ygo x reader #ygo #yugioh

[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Epilogue

First  -  Previous

Yep, this is it :’’’( The very end. I most certainly teared up a bit while writing it. Thank you all so much for reading, sharing, and commenting. I still have trouble believing how many people actually like my writing, but you all have never dropped your support. I really mean it when I tag ‘love you guys’ on every chapter.

If you want to see any of my other works, Here is my AO3! 

Thank you again for sharing this journey with me. And now, on to the finale!

cw: flashback from an outsider’s pov, food

~

“Everything’s fine? The move went well?”

“Dad, we’re fine,” Patton replied, smiling at the camera. Logan shifted uncomfortably on the other end. “Really, we’re good. The neighbors even brought over some banana bread.”

His father flinched at the mention of neighbors, then forced a smile onto his face. “That’s . . . very kind. Of them. To do that.”

“Yes, it is,” Patton encouraged.

Logan hadn’t been able to take enough time off work to come visit them yet, so it had been five months since they had seen each other in person. They video chatted every day, but Father always seemed on edge. As time passed, he didn’t appear to be getting much better at all with the distance. Remus would sometimes sit in on the calls, and he seemed happy with Father’s progress, but Patton couldn’t help but compare him to the man he’d grown up with. Where was the quiet strength, the soft smiles, the feeling of protection?

Patton didn't blame him, though. They had all changed. It was part of life, and growing, and learning. Nothing stayed the same, and that was okay.

“How are you and Virgil?” Father asked, as he always did. Patton laughed a little.

“We’re good,” Patton signed. “I told you that we’re doing therapy together, right?” Logan nodded. Patton nodded as well. “Yeah, it’s cheaper. And we’re learning a lot.”

“And no fights between the roommates?”

“We . . . we did just move in yesterday.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are four of you,” he signed. “Who knows?”

“Since it’s only two bedrooms, Remus and Roman have decided to share too,” Patton told him, “but Virgil and I are pretty sure that won’t last long. They have a deal to trade between the bed and the air mattress every other week, but Virgil thinks it won’t even be one week before one of them drags the air mattress into the living room.”

The room shook a bit and Patton looked up to see Virgil closing the front door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and propped his white cane up in the corner behind the door, before turning his head from this way to that, listening.

“I’m on the couch,” Patton called out. Father jumped at the sound of his voice, but tried to play it off as straightening his collar.

Virgil waved in the direction of the couch, then promptly tripped over Roman’s dress shoes. Patton giggled when he signed a curse as well as saying it out loud.

Virgil paused by the couch, well in view of the laptop that Patton was video chatting on. Father began talking (probably a greeting) as Patton hopped up to kiss his boyfriend. Virgil smiled, said something in response to Father, then headed toward the kitchen.

Patton checked to make sure his phone was on. Remus had been the one to do the shopping, and who knew how he had thrown everything into the cupboards and fridge. It was a little after noon, so Roman would probably be home soon to help Virgil find food, but if he didn’t want to wait Virgil would take a picture of the contents of the fridge and text it to Patton so that he could tell him the locations of each thing.

“How is everything for you? Remus says he won’t hesitate to drive down there if you don’t take care of yourself.”

Logan smiled softly. “I assure you, I am quite all right,” he waved. “I am even attending therapy.”

“That’s—” Patton dropped his hands as he glanced back at his phone, which had just buzzed. The notification wasn’t a text message, though. It was from the app that all of them had, the one that called for help. The notification was from Virgil. His heart dropped, just as it always did.

“I’ve got to go, goodbye,” Patton signed quickly. He’d closed the laptop before Father even finished his farewell. Then he was up and off to the kitchen, which luckily was only a few steps away from the living room.

Virgil was crouched on the floor, a container of food open in front of him. His hands covered his face and his whole body was trembling, tension in every line.

Patton froze for a moment, scared. What could he do? He had no idea what had triggered Virgil, or if they had any ice cubes to use to snap him out of it, or if he would even be able to bring him back by himself. But the moment of uncertainty passed, and Patton dropped to his knees beside the shaking man.

It was easy to kick the leftovers away, less easy to maneuver Virgil into his arms. Once they were sort of comfortable on the floor, Patton began tracing soothing words into Virgil’s arm. It wasn’t instant, but soon enough Virgil began to calm down, eventually breathing in a steady rhythm.

“You okay?” Patton asked quietly. Virgil shrugged, gripping his jeans as his legs continued to shake. Patton held him closer, a hand rubbing his back soothingly.

Don’t let go, Virgil wrote tremulously onto Patton’s arm.

I never will.

When Roman arrived home, slinging his backpack onto the card table that made up their dining room, he found them still that way, curled up in each other on the tiled kitchen floor. He made a mental note to later ask what had happened, quietly picked up the container of food, then retreated to his and Remus’s bedroom.

-

Remus pushed open their bedroom door, ready to just flop onto whichever bed was Roman’s. Lucky him, Roman was already stretched out there, a container of leftover pasta and a plastic fork beside him. He looked up from the food and smiled cautiously.

“Hey,” he said. “How was therapy?”

Remus shrugged.

Roman winced. “Is that . . . not something I’m supposed to ask about? Virgil’s usually okay with talking about it a bit, but—”

“Nah, it’s . . . whatever.” Remus dropped to the mattress on the floor, toeing off his socks. “Didn’t really say anything, but that’s group therapy for ya. Not talking doesn’t waste anybody’s time.”

Roman was quiet for a moment, and Remus glanced at him. He looked like he was thinking—always a first time for everything, Remus supposed. As soon as Remus had pulled his phone out of his pocket, Roman spoke.

“Do you think that, possibly, I could come with you? Next time?”

Okay, apparently there was a first time for everything. Remus frowned and dropped his phone, looking at the wall.

Roman was quick to backtrack. “I mean, I know that I didn’t go through all that . . . stuff . . . that you did, but . . . I don’t know. Maybe as support for you?”

“Is this still about you punching me?” Remus asked, eyes narrowed. “Because I told you, we’re cool.”

Roman shrugged awkwardly, his face turning red. “Yeah, I just want to help you in any way that I can. Also, Virgil thinks that I might be developing secondhand trauma?” he added, grimacing. “So I thought that perhaps I could benefit from it. And learn more ways to help all of you.”

“Roman, that’s. . . .” He wanted to say ‘very thoughtful’ or ‘selfless’ or ‘good thinking’. What came out of his mouth, though, was “expensive.”

Roman looked away, and now it was Remus’s turn to backtrack. “I mean, I did just get that job,” he said quickly, “and I’d love to help ya out in any way that I can. I even wouldn’t mind giving up therapy, if you think you wanna try it out. I don’t need it that bad.”

Roman laughed, and Remus relaxed fractionally. “Don’t worry,” he said, turning back to his pasta. “Mom and Dad are willing to pay for half of it, and I can cover the rest if I cut down my meal plan. After all, we’re buying plenty of food. I don’t need twenty-one meals a week.”

“You sure? After all, you’re walking an extra two blocks to campus,” Remus reminded. “You need all the strength you can get, for such a journey!”

Roman threw a pillow at him. “Shut up,” he chuckled, then frowned. “And give that back.”

Remus shoved the pillow under himself and smirked. “Too late.”

Instead of fighting for it back, Roman just smiled softly and twirled his fork in the pasta. “Yeah. That’s okay, though.”

-

Virgil breathed in as he woke, feeling the warmth of the sun on his arm that rested above the blankets. It wasn’t quite time to get up, then. If it was, the sunlight that filtered through the gap in their blinds would have reached his face.

He lay there for as long as he could, burrowing deeper under the blankets and into Patton’s arms. The softness of his nightshirt rubbed against his nose and cheek, and Virgil sighed contentedly. This was everything.

Yesterday’s flashback had been bad (who even gets triggered by the sound of a container opening?), but Patton had been there. Moving had been hard, but Patton had been there. Therapy was hard, but Patton was there.

It wasn’t just Patton, either. Roman was taking many of the same classes that he was, despite not needing all of them. Remus was willing to drive him just about anywhere, even to a park just to sit in silence for hours. Patton’s dad, for some reason, regularly called him to check up on him. Roman’s parents cared for him like he was another son. Even Roman’s on-and-off boyfriend, Janus, dropped by to hang out sometimes.

So, Virgil had a pretty good support group. On the days when he felt like just giving up, there was always someone to help him up. Just like he was there for the others. They all loved and supported each other, in their own ways.

Patton’s breathing shifted with a snuffle, followed by him nestling his face into Virgil’s hair. A moment later, he was tracing on Virgil’s arm.

Hey you.

Virgil didn’t even try to muffle the giggle that escaped. The ray of sun had reached his head, warming his dark hair. The alarm would be going off at any minute, but for now, he was happy to be in his boyfriend’s arms.

Date tonight? he asked, his fingers moving slowly on Patton’s arm. At the smoothie place, with Roman and Janus?

Sounds good!

Virgil placed his hands on Patton’s chest, meeting his lips for a slow kiss. When they parted, he relaxed back into his love’s arms, unabashedly snuggling. The alarm clock would have to grow arms and pry them apart to get him out of bed.

Old Virgil would have scoffed, unimpressed at his thirst for human contact. Old Virgil wanted to be alone.

As long as it was Roman, and Remus, and Mr. and Mrs. Allred, and Logan, and Janus, and Patton—wonderful, beautiful Patton—Virgil didn’t think he would mind it if he was never alone again.

~ Taglist: @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog  @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides @awkwardandanxiousfander @thekitchenpan @im-an-anxious-wreck @larkiaquail @anteonnix @fantasticfander21 @007ardra

#slower than words #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #patton sanders #ts patton #logan sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #remus sanders #ts remus #janus sanders #ts janus #moxiety #ts moxiety #background roceit #fanfic #it's finally over #janus had literally zero screentime this fic #just a handful of name drops #i'll miss you all :) #i write regularly #and i'm planning on putting out a masterpost of all my fics soon #so feel free to follow for more of my stuff! #love you guys

[anthonyjlockwood]

17 OF THE 50 WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU FOR LALEXIE PLEASEEEE

em, my fellow luke angst lover, my lalexie brain rot-causer, my beloved <3

here is your prompt on ao3. tw for discussions of luke wanting to cross over. please read responsibly💜

Luke’s song book has been through a lot over the years.

It’s had tears soaked into its pages. It’s had crumbs stuck in between its binding. It’s had dozens of songs written on it in fast, messy handwriting, thousands of words based on Luke’s inner thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams.

It’s survived years worth of scribbles, cross-outs, rips and tears; even hugs and kisses, when Luke’s written something he’s sure will be a hit someday.

It’s survived death, some time in a dark room, and a tumbling trip back to Earth twenty five years in the future.

And now, the boy who’s been writing in it for all that time, whose soul is attached to it in ways most people wouldn’t even understand, is using its pages for something else.

Something no one would have ever expected.

A list.

Ways I Can Cross Over.

He thought that maybe, Unsaid Emily would’ve been it. There was a small part of him that had expected to just vanish into thin air the second Julie handed his parents that sheet of notebook paper.

His notebook is almost empty now. Luke thinks that that’s fitting; he’s spent most of his soul onto the pages. He’s a ghost. He’s got nothing more to give. Maybe it’s even a sign -- a sign that he’s not going to need to write music for much longer. The notebook is running out of space. It’s running out of time, just like he is.

He wonders if he could even use a new songbook. It wouldn’t be a part of him, the way his old one was. It would be empty; a blank slate for him to start a new journey in. A whole new marathon to run just as he’s crossing the finish line of the last one.

And… he doesn’t want to.

He’s tired of running. Running from his parents. Running from Caleb. From things that he broke, from things that were threatening to break him. From things that were hurting his friends.

Luke’s always been one for impulsive decisions.

So after he makes his list, he dog-ears the page and gives himself a time limit.

He has until the pages run out in his notebook to figure out what his unfinished business is… and finish it.

~

The problem is, Luke’s life on Earth wasn’t that long. He’s had seventeen years to start things, and practically no time at all to finish them. The possibilities of what his unfinished business actually is are endless. There was that music festival the guys had wanted to play at the end of summer ‘95. Countless world tours they wanted to go on. He wanted to sign an autograph for Dave Grohl, shake hands with Mick Jagger. He wanted to drink chocolate from the world’s largest chocolate waterfall in Alaska.

So few of these things he could actually do, now that he was dead.

Even fewer of them he could do without the guys. If his unfinished business really had to be just for him, maybe the band stuff wouldn’t be enough.

He never finished high school. He never learned how to play the bass -- he’s always wanted to; after all, Reggie could play the guitar, so Luke should know how to play his instrument, too.

And the only other thing he could think of that was absolutely, one hundred percent his business to finish… was his relationship with his mother.

Julie bringing “Unsaid Emily” over to his old house had been something. It filled the hole in his chest just enough that he could pretend it wasn’t there. Having his mom finally see how he felt about her, how much he regretted leaving, was like putting an ice pack on a burn. It eased the pain for the moment, had him thinking maybe that would be enough, that it would heal properly. But the ice pack’s melted, now; it’s gone back to room temperature, and his heart is still screaming.

Luke wonders what else he would have to do to get rid of the guilt.

He knows -- he hopes -- that the guilt won’t follow him to the afterlife. Because it’s really the only thing about this ghost-limbo that he wants to escape from. He doesn’t mind the invisibility, or the intangibility, because those things have never really prevented him from playing music. Music, though, he’ll miss, but Luke thinks it’s a small price to pay. After all, Alex and Reggie should’ve had their whole lives to play music. And even if Luke crosses over, they still can. He’s the one who caused their untimely deaths in the first place.

And he can never undo that, but… something he’s realized as all of them have adjusted to being ghosts is that he’s not really needed.

Sunset Curve could go on as a trio. Julie would still have her found family in Alex and Reggie and Willie. Reggie would have his friends that remained, as well as Ray and Carlos to fill in any gaps.

And Alex and Willie would have each other.

~

For Willie, the whole concept of “unfinished business” is just… not really on his radar. He’s pretty content in his afterlife. He is, as the kids say, vibing. He’s moving along, singing a song. He was never in any rush to figure out what his unfinished business was, and he was especially never in any rush to cross over, to fade out of existence entirely and into the unknown.

He also never really understood why other ghosts would want to do that. Until he met Alex and the others, and realized that sometimes, urgency forces your hand. Outside circumstances throw you out of your comfort zone, force you to do things you never would’ve considered before.

But also, since meeting Alex, the tiny part of his soul that’s always been curious about what his unfinished business was -- curious about crossing over, about what’s on the other side -- has pretty much shriveled away to nothing. Alex gives a whole new meaning to Willie’s life -- to his afterlife, really -- but the drummer makes him feel alive again in a way that he hasn’t felt in decades. Long before he’d forgotten the age-old saying, look both ways before you cross the street.

Willie wouldn’t call himself the most observant person on Earth. Sometimes, he can be a little oblivious. He can be blinded to the truth, only see what he wants to see -- he can deny what’s right in front of him. Give people the benefit of the doubt who don’t deserve it, like he’s done with Caleb so many times before.

He tries not to stress about things. Tries to just be. Live -- or do whatever he’s doing as a ghost, honestly -- with no regrets, no looking back. He doesn’t worry about consequences. But at the same time, he’s also scared of disappointing people. Scared of how he’s coming across to other people. He needs to make sure he’s not messing up too too badly, because he wants the people he loves to love him back -- he wants them to want him to stick around.

So he pays attention. He misses stuff sometimes, sure… but Willie’s mission in his afterlife is simple. Chill out, do whatever he wants to do -- it’s not like he can get caught; he’s invisible. Just don’t get on Caleb Covington’s bad side.

Love whoever he still can, and be loved back.

Willie loves Alex. He’s loved him since the museum. He’s needed him since he ran into him on the street with his skateboard. But lately, Willie’s started to realize that he might also love Luke. Not any more or less than he loves Alex, which is a confusing problem in itself. And not really in a different way than Alex, either. His heart does somersaults when he’s around Luke now, too.

He might need him in different ways than Alex, though. Alex calms him down, grounds him when his head’s in the clouds or he’s too distracted by other things. He brings him back, makes him aware of what’s most important in the moment. He makes him laugh. Makes him think. Makes him stop and appreciate everything around him, instead of just whipping through his afterlife with no concerns. Alex makes him care.

But Luke… With Luke, it feels like he’s stuck upside-down at the top of a roller coaster, but there’s no one else he’d rather be stuck with. He feels more dangerous with Luke, willing to do things that he’s too scared to drag Alex into. He feels like there’s no limits. In one of Luke’s songs, he wrote face first, full charge, and that’s the exact energy he brings when he’s around Willie -- when he’s around anyone, really. He’s passionate, and driven, and so unafraid. Willie doesn’t have to be as careful around Luke.

And they’re both super protective of Alex.

Willie needs Alex for the slow rollercoaster ride to the top of the hill, and he needs Luke for laughter, for thrill, for excitement. For the thrilling, twisty way back down.

Willie’s not sure that anything feels complete without Alex and Luke.

So, since they’re both a part of Willie in ways that he can’t even really explain, Willie watches. He pays attention to both of them, taking in everything about them in quiet, soft, subtle ways.

That’s how he starts to notice that something’s off with Luke.

~

A week goes by, the pages in Luke’s notebook are dwindling, and he still has no idea what his unfinished business is.

It’s frustrating, having to narrow his entire life down to one possible milestone he’s never gotten to achieve. There are far too many. And the nagging voice in the back of Luke’s head -- the one telling him that Alex and Reggie have just as many milestones -- isn’t helping matters at all.

Luke just wants all this to be over. He deserves it -- he’s not sure whether he deserves the questionable peace crossing over would bring; everyone always says death is peaceful, anyway. But he definitely deserves the “no longer existing” part. And Alex and Reggie do deserve it. They deserve everything that life -- or afterlife, really -- can still offer them. Luke’s tired of holding them back. It feels like nothing’s ever good enough -- like he’s wearing shoes made out of lead, or something, trying to walk across a desert, and he’s got a time limit to get there. And Alex and Reggie are chained to him -- stuck in the same predicament, because they just had to follow him to that hot dog stand. He’s tired of getting them into these messes. First death; and, as if that wasn’t bad enough, into the Hollywood Ghost Club with Caleb Covington, all because he just couldn’t let his grudge against Bobby -- Trevor Wilson -- die.

He’s still writing music, but his lyrics aren’t as powerful anymore. They’re not as confident, not as inspiring. And he writes with Julie, but he thinks Julie can tell that his spark has dimmed.

He hopes that she thinks he’s just going through writer’s block, or something. Something fixable.

He’s been working on his list for the past week, too. He thinks he’s got his unfinished business pretty much narrowed down; there’s three things on his list he wants to try. School. Bass. Emily.

He needs Reggie’s help with the bass one, so he’s been putting it off. And Emily…

Luke has tried to steer clear of his old house since Julie gave his parents the song. Because… the fact that it didn’t help, that it didn’t ease the ache in his heart in exactly the way Julie hoped that it would, made Luke feel guilty. And he doesn’t really want to see if the song made a difference for his parents. Because what if it didn’t?

What if they’re like Luke, just wishing for more? More interaction that they can never have -- an actual conversation about the regrets that he touched on in the song? A physical hug, the weight of their arms around each other, a look of real, actual understanding in their eyes that Luke’s never thought he would actually see.

And the thing is… if his parents are Luke’s unfinished business, what the hell is he supposed to do about it?

The prospect of being chained to the Earth forever because of something he’d screwed up beyond repair when he was alive has his stomach churning, almost as badly as it was when he’d eaten that hot dog.

The easiest one for Luke to focus on is school -- which, if someone had said to him twenty-five years ago that school would be at the top of his priority list, he’d have laughed in their face -- and the easiest way for him to do it is through Julie.

Julie’s sufficiently banned him from actually showing up at her school, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do other things. Like homework and studying. So Luke’s plan is this: he’ll study with Julie, maybe convince her to let him do a couple of her homework assignments. And if she aces her next math test because of the work they’ve done together, Luke’ll consider it a win.

It’s the best option he has. It’s not like he can sit in a classroom anymore, or take his own tests.

He sneaks up on her one afternoon as she’s sitting in her bedroom, chewing on a pencil, face scrunched in confusion.

“Hey, Jules. Whatcha doin?”

At the sound of his voice, Julie looks up at him and her confusion transforms into a smile. “Hey, Luke! Just homework.”

“Need any help?” He shuffles a little closer to the bed, mindful of Julie’s distaste for having the boys in her room.

Julie’s face flips back to confusion like a lightswitch. “You… want to help me with my homework?”

“Yeah!” Luke huffs out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… was curious, I guess. About what you’re learning in school.”

“Why?”

“You know, I never finished high school!” Luke says. “I’ve kind of always wondered what it would’ve been like if I had. Y’know, walking across a stage in that dumb cap and gown. Um -- accomplishing something. Being able to finish something important!”

He’s saying too much -- he knows by the way Julie’s expression shifts, confusion into curiosity into concern.

“Hey, wait,” she says, placing her pencil down and closing her textbook. “Are you okay? Is there something you want to talk about, Luke?”

“What? No! I’m fine!”

He hates the way his voice comes out, rough and high-pitched and decidedly not fine. Julie looks like she’s about to argue, so he opens his dumb, not-fine, impulsive mouth once again. “Seriously, Jules. I’m good. Gotta go meet the boys now, see ya!”

He poofs away, but he can still see Julie’s worried stare still fixed on him behind his eyelids.

~

“Don’t you think he’s been acting kinda strange?”

Willie is sitting in the garage, Reggie on the couch to his right and Alex behind him, braiding his hair like he does when he gets nervous.

And he’s trying to console Alex, to tell him to relax, that they’ll make sure Luke is fine -- only the confidence that Willie’s normally so famous for is dwindling.

Alex is worried about Luke, and Willie would love to reassure him, except that Willie thinks that Alex has a point. Luke has been acting strange lately; way too over the top during rehearsals, more trips to see his mom than usual -- trips that he thinks they don’t know about -- plus, he’s been reading books.

Julie’s school books, which he takes out of her room sometimes and stashes up on top of the loft. Books that Alex found there earlier that day, when he was looking for his drumsticks. Books that Alex had asked Willie about… and they’d both determined that it was Luke who had brought them up there, because Reggie wouldn’t hide the fact that he was teaching himself Trigonometry, and Luke’s been acting really weird as it is.

“You said he’s doing math?” Reggie asks, eyes wide. Willie figures Reggie must know just as well as he does -- if not better -- what Luke doing math could mean: that he’s not acting like himself.

“Yes!” Willie flails, waving his arms wildly -- to make a point -- and knocking into his boyfriend, who flinches back, tugging on Willie’s hair in the process.

“Ow!”

“Well you didn’t have to jump like that!” Alex hisses back. “Stop moving. I’m trying to stress-braid.”

“Sorry, Alex,” Willie sighs, straightening himself on the sofa. Sometimes, Alex just needs to stress-braid his hair. It gives him something to do with his hands; it’s a way for him to occupy his mind -- to focus on things other than the anxiety. And Willie’s usually all too happy to provide that service (what feels better than having your hair braided, especially by a boy you love?)

“Do you think he’s okay?” Alex mumbles, fingers once again fumbling through Willie’s hair in his unpracticed, clumsy way.

“Why don’t you guys just talk to him?” Reggie asks. “D’you have any idea what could be wrong?”

“No,” Willie huffs. “He’s just been acting so weird. I know it’s something. He’s doing stuff that he’s never cared about before -- like math. But also just… the stuff he normally loves, music. He’s… acting like it’s gonna be taken away from him, or something. Haven’t you noticed how hard he’s pushing you guys in band practice?”

“He’s acting like… like we’re running out of time,” Alex realizes. “But why?”

Just then, the boy in question poofs into the garage -- like he was rushing to get there; his landing’s not clean, and he stumbles around for a moment before catching himself on one of the microphone stands. He straightens up and sees that he has an audience.

“Hey -- hey, guys,” he stammers. “What’s up? We gonna practice?”

His eyes fix on Reggie, then, and he perks up. “Oh! Reg! I’ve been meaning to ask you -- can you teach me how to play the bass?”

“Can I--” Reggie stops, stares at Luke for a moment, trying to piece everything together.

Alex, though, right in front of Willie behind the sofa, looks like he’s already figured it out. He blinks at Luke. “You want to learn how to play bass?”

“I always have,” Luke shrugs. Alex studies him, and Luke twitches under his gaze.

“I just thought it would be cool, ya know, to know all our instruments. So can you teach me, Reg?”

“Um -- I --” Reggie’s eyes dart between Alex, Willie, and Luke, probably trying to figure out what the right thing to say is. Willie doesn’t know, exactly, but he knows one thing for sure: there’s no way Luke’s sudden interest in learning the bass is a coincidence.

Alex seems to be on the same page, but unlike Willie, he’s more inclined to take charge, to do something about it. “Reg, can we talk to Luke alone for a minute?”

“Yes,” Reggie lets out a sigh of relief and poofs away, leaving Willie and Alex to deal with… whatever this is. Willie still isn’t totally sure.

He’s once again enormously grateful for Alex, and the fact that his boyfriend has a pretty good handle on what’s going on in the world seventy-five percent of the time. Because it shocks Willie just as much as it does Luke when Alex says, “Why are you trying to cross over?”

What?

Willie hasn’t put the pieces together nearly as well as Alex has -- in fact, he feels like they’ve been working on entirely different puzzles. Why would Luke be trying to cross over? Why would he want to leave all the guys, and Julie, behind forever?

He wouldn’t. It doesn’t make sense.

Except the second the words leave Alex’s mouth, Luke freezes, eyes wide like he’s been tossed into the path of an oncoming train, shoes welded to its tracks.

And Willie starts to think that maybe his boyfriend wasn’t so far off the mark, after all.

~

“There are people who love you, you know.”

Luke blinks up at Alex, still frozen, still thrown for a loop, still… not understanding how Alex figured him out.

“How do you think we’d feel if you crossed over?” Alex continues, his intense gaze still fixed on Luke, Luke squirming uncomfortably underneath it. “Without us? Is that… is that something you want?”

Alex’s voice finally cracks, betraying the emotion underneath it, and it’s almost too much for Luke to take. His wild eyes dart around the studio, looking for something -- anything -- to focus on, to take him out of the moment… and he finds the string lights, hung across the walls and the ceilings. He starts counting the bulbs, reciting the numbers in his head. He only makes it to seven before Willie’s voice breaks his concentration.

“Luke?”

“How… how did you know that’s what I was trying to do?” Luke mumbles.

“Well… the math’s what clued me in,” Willie lets out a half-hearted laugh as Alex takes slow steps around the sofa and sits down.

“Come here,” he calls out to Luke -- and although every bone in Luke’s body is screaming run, get out, get far, far away from this conversation… he finds himself joining them, sitting down in the spot on the couch they’ve made in between them.

“We just want you to know there are people who love you,” Willie says. “People -- people who need you, Luke. You can’t leave us, okay? You can’t cross over. Not without us.”

“But you -- you guys and Reggie and Julie -- you don’t need me.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex asks. “Of course we--”

“You and Reg would still be alive if it weren’t for me,” Luke growls. “So don’t say you need me. All I do is mess everything up. You guys, our careers, my parents…”

“Hang on, Luke,” Alex reaches a hand out, momentarily caught off guard. Luke doesn’t see why; it’s not like what he said was that complicated. He’s messed up. He breaks things. He ruined his parents’ lives by running away. He almost ruined Julie’s life, by getting involved with Caleb. And -- and Alex and Reggie…

“None of that’s your fault,” Alex says with conviction.

“Alex--”

“No!” Alex gets up, suddenly, and starts to pace around the room, fingers digging through his hair. “You have to know that. We don’t blame you for any of that!”

“Luke, Alex is right,” Willie reaches a hand out, cautiously, and takes one of Luke’s. When Luke doesn’t pull away, Willie pulls him even closer, into his chest, and starts gently running his fingers through Luke’s hair.

Luke sinks into Willie’s chest, eyes following Alex’s nervous pacing -- he’s biting his lip, and his hands are shaking slightly. Luke hadn’t realized that it might be hard on Alex, too, dealing with Luke’s current mental spiral.

He pulls away from Willie, ignoring the other boy’s whine of protest, and sits up to face Alex. “Hey, Alex,” he calls out quietly. “Come back and sit down. I’m-- I’m good. You don’t have to worry about me. Just… take deep breaths, okay?”

“Are you seriously trying to calm me down right now?” Alex snaps. A flash of hurt crosses Luke’s face -- one that he must not be quick enough to hide, because Alex’s own face softens at the sight of it.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Luke… I--”

“Just come back here and hold me, please,” Luke croaks.

Luke… doesn’t cry much, if he can help it. He hates tears, both his own and other people’s, and generally tries to avoid them at all costs. But… the look on Alex’s face, the tone of his voice -- his scared, anxious, desperate voice as he snapped at Luke for trying to calm him down -- has the dam breaking, finally, and the tears are bursting out of Luke’s eyes and running down his face before he even knows what’s happening, running down and soaking into the collar of his flannel shirt.

At the sight of Luke’s tears, Alex startles, and makes a beeline for his side. Luke is thrown into a group hug, Alex and Willie on either side of him.

And he just lets himself cry.

~

It takes a while, but finally Luke calms down a bit.

He stays on the couch, sandwiched in between two of his favorite people on the planet. Willie’s hands are still running gently through his hair; Alex’s thumb is rubbing small circles on his wrist.

His tears have finally stopped, but there’s this annoying, puffy ache in his head and behind his eyes that feels like it’s going to linger for a while.

It’s quiet, and the quiet allows Luke to think about everything that’s happened that day -- after weeks of his stupid, ill-advised mission to complete his unfinished business, he’s been found out.

And he found out that people -- Alex and Willie, who are love and sunshine and light and everything beautiful about the world personified -- would actually miss him if he was gone. That people care, that they don’t blame him for the stuff that he’s been blaming himself for for months.

It’s… a lot to wrap his head around, and even though the tears have stopped, the uncertainty and anxiety and desire to not be a burden is still swirling around in his head, leaving him silent and still as he sits there in between Alex and Willie, his head now resting on Willie’s shoulder.

He knows that those feelings, like the ache he feels in his heart and his head, will probably be around a while.

“I’m sorry for making you worry ‘bout me,” he mumbles, burrowing his face even deeper into Willie’s loose-fitting sweatshirt. Willie’s arms wrap around him and hold him there, and Luke takes in a deep, slow breath, inhaling Willie’s musky scent, shutting his eyes in the first moment of contentment he’s felt in weeks.

“I meant what I said, you know,” Alex whispers. “None of it’s your fault. There are people who love you. We…”

He stops, and Luke turns his head as much as Willie’s grip will allow to try to see why. He’s able to just peek at Alex out of the corner of his eye, and he sees that the other boy’s frowning. Like he’s unsure of what he’s about to say. Like he’s nervous.

“Alex?” Luke struggles out of Willie’s grip, and reluctantly, the other boy lets him go. He shuffles to the other side of the sofa, closer to Alex, and the drummer opens his arms for Luke willingly.

Being in Alex’s arms is different than being in Willie’s, too. Alex is sturdier; less teddy-bear like than Willie is, but comforting and warm and inviting all the same. Alex’s arms feel like home just as much as Willie’s do, and Luke melts into the hug instantly, like an ice cream cone on the hot pavement in July. Alex’s hand runs up and down Luke’s back and Luke shivers, eyes threatening to slip closed despite his need to hear Alex’s answer.

“Willie and I love you, Luke,” Alex says softly. There’s no more uncertainty -- a hint of nervousness, but Luke doesn’t doubt what Alex is saying for a second. There’s a conviction in his tone -- a confidence -- that Alex only really uses when talking about people he loves. This… defensiveness, this love, this conviction.

“We don’t have to figure everything out now,” Alex continues -- probably realizing Luke’s been through enough that day. Luke appreciates that, actually. There’s only one answer he would ever give to Alex and Willie -- only one thing his heart’s ever wanted; Luke can see it now, now that the sound of his heartbeat is pulsing in his ears, now that he feels like he’s both standing on the edge of a mountain, about to take a leap of faith into the crisp winter air below -- and at the same time, on solid ground, in no danger of falling, of stumbling, of getting hurt. He feels safe and exhilarated all at the same time, and this feeling is both familiar and completely new, more amplified than it usually is. Not what he’s used to.

But Luke feels like he’s ready to take the leap now. He still feels guilty, still isn’t actually sure whether his friends -- his family -- would be better off without him. But Alex and Willie have never steered him wrong before.

When he’s sitting in between them, their arms around him and their warm, soft hands running through his hair… Luke feels like maybe he can get through anything.

#julie and the phantoms #julie & the phantoms #jatp #jatp fanfiction #jatp fanfic #luke patterson #alex mercer #willie wilbur williamson #lalexie #angst #prompt fill

[peterxwade24]

Safety Found in Red Sleeves

Chapter 2

This has been a long time coming, literally I wrote this in like four sittings so I hope everyone likes it!

Jason startled awake, his eyes opened wide as he listened for the noise which had startled him awake. The repeated knocking of the door to his apartment had him slowly springing out of bed, trying his hardest to not disturb his Little Nugget. He silently padded through his apartment, glancing into the room Dickiebird and Replacement had crashed in that night to check on them, before opening the door and freezing when he had a mess of blonde hair pressed against his chest.

The girl attached to the blonde hair was sobbing, that much he knew, but without seeing her face he didn’t know who she was.

“Hey. Hey. I’m not sure why you’re crying but I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.” Jason rubbed her back and let her calm down at her own pace.

The girl pulled away enough to let Jason pull her into the apartment and close the door.

“I’m sorry to have just dropped in unexpectedly. I just,” her blue eyes filled with tears and at the moment Jason could see that she’d been one of the people who’d been backstage when Bruce had blown up at him, “he doesn’t really mean that, does he?”

“I don’t know.” Jason pulled her back against his chest and held her to let her finish crying. “Can you tell me your name? I don’t think we’ve been introduced since I returned.”

She sniffled and nodded. “Stephanie Brown, my dad’s the Cluemaster.” She looked up at Jason with tear-filled eyes and Jason knew he’d do anything to protect her.

“You’ll always be welcomed here. My little sister in all but blood is Mad Hatter’s daughter.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened and she nodded. “I never realized, I never thought he’d have kids.”

—

Jason had just gotten Stephanie settled in the last bedroom after her fit of crying and returned to the living room when a shadow darkened his living room windows. He watched the shadow open his window from outside and slide into his apartment before he strode across the living room and pulled the shadow to his chest. “You were there when Bruce made his proclamation, right?”

The shadow nodded and pulled away from his chest, just enough to allow a stray ray of light from a nearby streetlamp to stream across her face. The shadow turned out to be one of Bruce’s other kids, a girl named Cassandra Cain. Jason recognized her features from his time with the League, her mother was Lady Shiva.

“Oh Cassandra. You’ll always be welcomed here. My sister in all but blood is the daughter of one of Gotham’s rogues.” Jason smiled and brushed Cass’s hair away from her face. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

Cass nodded and slumped against Jason’s chest.

Jason smiled and swung Cass up into his arms. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a room with Stephanie. She’s crashing here tonight too.” Jason carried Cass to the room Steph was sleeping in and smiled. 

He was happy that his siblings trusted him enough to have their backs. But could he trust them to have his in his search for Pixie?

-*-*-*

Thana stared at Kim’s red sleeves, knowing her friends would give her the time she needed.

“Thana. Fragolina?” Chloé asked her friend. “Are you okay?”

Thana looked at her friends and felt her eyes fill with tears. “My big brother’s alive and I’m not there.”

Nino, always good at keeping Thana grounded, started humming a song he’d realized helped her focused over the years. “Isn’t there a contest held by Wayne Enterprises?”

Alix nodded before looking at Thana. “Isn’t it an essay contest? Where everyone mentioned in the essay gets to go?”

Thana looked at the two and tried to figure out what they were talking about.

Adrien smiled and nodded. “I’ll write the essay. Just get me a list of everyone’s achievements. We’ll have to ask someone here in Paris to hold the horse miraculous if we go on the trip.”

Kim laughed, a deep rumbling laugh that vibrated his chest, and rested his head atop Thana’s. “Who would have thought all those years ago when Mèo con arrived in Paris we would all have become friends and found ourselves with the opportunity to go back to the city she was born in to meet her big brother?”

Thana grabbed Chloé’s hand and whispered. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Thana’s blue grey eyes locked with Chloé’s blue eyes and Chloé saw the fear reflected back at her. “He’s got all these new siblings, better siblings, why would he want to see me?”

Chloé’s response was cut off by the Akuma siren outside. She sighed before standing and stretching her arms above her head. The white gold metal of her Miraculous glinted in the light before Trixx landed on her shoulder. “Duty calls.”

The team rose to their feet, their Miraculi glinting in the light.

Adrien let an easy smile spread on his face before he shook out his shoulders. His Miraculous, a pair of silver clip on earrings, shined in the light. “Tikki, spots on.” Adrien was engulfed in a dark red light and when the light vanished, he was no longer Adrein. He was dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt, dark red pants, a dark red jacket covered in black spots surrounded by light yellow rings with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pair of black combat boots with light yellow accents, black gloves, and a dark red almost black mask with light yellow spots. He had a dark red yoyo settled on his left hip with black spots surrounded by light yellow rings.

Chloé tossed her hair over her shoulder before smiling. “Trixx, let’s pounce.” Chloé was engulfed in a yellow-orange light and when the light vanished, she was no longer Chloé. She was dressed in a pale yellow bodysuit, a dark orange-brown skort, knee high light brown platform boots, a light brown jacket left unzipped and dark brown gloves that ended in claws. She had a fluffy light brown tail that was tipped in black. She had a pair of fluffy fox ears atop her head, the ears and her hair a light brown that darkened as it moved towards the tip. She had a pale yellow mask with dark orange paw prints outlined in brown. A dark brown flute rested on the small of her back.

Nino stretched his arms over his head and smiled. His Miraculous, a bronze snake wrapped around his wrist, twinkled in the light. “Sass, scales slither.” Nino was engulfed in a dark green-blue light and when the light vanished, he was no longer Nino. He was dressed in dark green pants with a black long-sleeved shirt, black combat boots with a dark blue bandana wrapped around his right ankle, a dark teal hooded jacket without sleeves zipped closed over his chest with the hood pulled up over his head, dark blue gloves covered his hands and wrists, and a dark green mask with a blue scale pattern concealed his identity. A bronze lyre was secured on his back.

Alix bounced on her toes before cupping Wayzz in her hands. Her Miraculous, a malachite turtle bracelet, gleamed in the light. “Wayzz, shell on.” Alix was engulfed in a dark pastel green light and when the light vanished, she was no longer Alix. She was dressed in a light brown bodysuit with black spots of various sizes on the ends of the sleeves, matching light brown leggings with black spots of various sizes on the ends of the legs, a slightly darker brown skater skirt, black gloves, matching black sneakers, a light brown mask with black splotches, and an oversized stiff leather jacket with a myriad of splotches in an array of shades of brown and yellow. Her normally puffy pink hair was slicked back under a dark brown swimmer’s cap, with an expandable circle throwing disk hidden under her jacket and a pair smaller throwing disks hidden under the heels of her sneakers.

Kim twitched his nose, a habit he picked up from Stompp, before letting a grin spread across his face. His Miraculous, a red nephrite septum ring, glimmered in the light. “Stompp, olé.” He was engulfed in a dark sienna light and when the light vanished, he was no longer Kim. He was dressed in dark jungle green cargo pants, a dark blue-green sleeveless shirt with light seaweed blue details, a dark sienna long-sleeved high neck shirt under the sleeveless shirt, a light seaweed blue sleeveless jacket, black combat boots with dark blue-green accents, black biker gloves, and a dark jungle green mask with dark sienna accents. He had a thin dark blue-green ox tail which whipped violently behind him, dark blue-green ox ears and light seaweed blue ox horns which curled up over his head. He had a black extendable bo staff strapped to his back.

Thana let out a sigh before letting a tiny smile grace her face. Her Miraculous, a gun-metal gray ring, shined with a hazy gray shine in the overhead light. “Plagg, claws out.” She was engulfed in a dark hazy gray light and when the light vanished, she was no longer Thana or Marinette. She was dressed in a smoky black spandex suit which was so high necked that it covered the lower half of her face and covered her hands with tiny, but sharp, claws. Over her suit was a deep black jacket with dark purple lining and baggy dark gray pants with dark purple detailing. She wore what appeared to be oversized olivine sneakers (but were actually Heelys) with dark purple cat paw detailing on the soles of her sneakers (and matching cat paw detailing on the palms of her hands). Her mask was a black domino mask just like her brother’s had been, except instead of white eye lenses her’s were the same blue her brother’s eyes had been. She had a deep black hood (not unlike the hood her brother’s mentor wears) topped with deep black cat ears, a fluffy deep black cat tail which waved lazily behind her. She had a black and olivine staff secured at the small of her back.

The six teen heroes exchanged grins before they dove out the closest window.

—

Madame Bustier stood in the front of the room with a smile on her face. “Okay kiddos. Listen up.” She waited for everyone to turn their attention to her before her smile grew even bigger. “Thanks to one of your classmates, who wishes to remain nameless, we’ve won a trip. The trip is being funded by Wayne Enterprises, although that doesn’t include souvenirs, and everyone will need to have a permission slip signed by their parents because the trip is taking us to Gotham.”

Thana shot Madame Bustier a look before raising her hand. “Technically my father is in Gotham, do I need his permission?”

Madame Bustier glanced at Thana before sighing. “Ms. Dupain-Cheng. I do not approve of this newfound snark.” She shook her head before turning back to the class at large. “Everyone take one and pass them back until everyone has one.”

—

Kim sat on the settee in Thana’s Parisian room, the smaller girl held against his chest. Nino was playing music in the background while Adrien and Alix were playing Ultra Mecha Strike 3 and Chloé was going through Thana’s closet trying to find clothes for them to wear while in Gotham.

“What is the fashion like in Gotham?” Chloé glanced over her shoulder at Thana. “Colour-wise and actual fashion wise.”

“Darker than here. Unless you’re one of the rogues.” Thana sat up and scrambled for her laptop before returning to Kim’s lap on the settee. She quickly unlocked her laptop and went to Skype. She waited all of a few minutes before the familiar noise of a Skype call filled the room. The four other teens crowded around the settee and waited to see who was on the other end of the line. Thana’s face brightened and she couldn’t seem to contain her excitement.

A tall man with short red hair and green eyes sat beside a tall man with long brown hair and hazel eyes. The tall man with short red hair and green eyes smiled, the smile bringing light to his green eyes. “Hello little Hood.”

“Mini Todd.” The tall man with long brown hair and hazel eyes smiled, allowing his hazel eyes to twinkle behind his thin wire frame glasses.

“Uncle Ed. Uncle John.” Thana’s face brightened further when she smiled at the two men. “These are my friends. Kim, Nino, Alix, Adrien and Chloé. Friends, these are my Uncles Ed and John.” The seven other people waved at one another.

“Fragolina. Why did they call you little Hood and Mini Todd?” Chloé asked with a single finger on her chin.

“Jay-Jay’s last name is Todd and I used to sign all of my assignments Thana Hood.” Thana shrugged before leaning back against Kim’s chest.

“Did you hear, Mini Todd?” John asked, a smile on his face.

“Big Todd is back on the streets.” Ed continued.

“I’ll be back on the streets soon enough.”

Taglist

@southamericangothamite @maribat-is-lifeblood @mystery-5-5 @our-preciousss @mochegato @chocolatecatstheron @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @2confused-2doanything @wannajointhecrabcult @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmymind @moonlightstar64 @justafanwarrior @mialuvscats @pheony1882 @pepelachanel @moongoddesskiana @abrx2002 @ladybug-182  

Do you want to see shorts for this fic? If so, would you want to see Big Todd and Mini Todd’s adventures on the streets? Would you want to see how Ed Nygma and Johnathan Crane became Uncles Ed and John? Are there any characters from the DC Universe that you want to see interact with Thana and Co.?

#maribat #mlb crossover #ml crossover #ml x dc #mlb x dc #gothamite!Marinette #platonic sibling jasonette #Safety Found in Red Sleeves #SFiRS