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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

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Apologue.

Yan Albedo x F Reader. Commissioned piece.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Albedo just having this strange unsettling energy... Word count: 3k.

There’s a homely atmosphere to Mondstadt that you don’t experience in other cities.

Everyone knows one another and does their part. If a neighbor falls ill, without requiring formal organization, the community provides meals so fresh, you can still see steam rising off it. Birthdays are remembered each year, you go to one childhood friend’s wedding then the next, and funerals pack the Favonius Cathedral to its limit. There’s an unspoken sense of togetherness each denizen of the city of freedom possesses. It is invisible, yet tangible, like a gentle breeze.

That’s why you don’t think much of it when Noelle seeks you out, carrying the news that once again, Klee has been placed in solitary confinement.

When the stalwart maid departs, you just sigh and shake your head. Klee’s solitary confinement punishment has become synonymous with ‘wait until [First] comes to take her off our hands.’ The Spark Knight may not be your blood relation, yet you often care for and look after her. Her eccentric mother is gone more than she’s around. While you can appreciate Alice’s zest for adventure, you wish she’d take her daughter into account before disappearing for half a year.

You can practically hear the globe-trotter’s voice from the last time you raised this concern.

“That’s what I have you for,” Alice would say. “Klee is fortunate to have such a kindhearted influence like you in her life. If it ever gets to be overwhelming, why not rely on her big brother more?”

At the mention of him, you dropped the topic. If Alice noticed the change in your demeanor, she didn’t comment on it. She instead elected to discuss a stipend you then respectfully refused. Monetary compensation was the last thing on your mind — you were raised in a community that helped one another because they wanted to.

You slide a bookmark into the latest novel that caught your interest. Chapter five will have to wait until after you’ve rescued Klee from the strange way the Knights try curbing her behavior.

Not even a second later, a shadow envelops your form on what is otherwise a sunny day.

“[First],” a calm voice belonging to a certain alchemist greets. Then there’s a gloved hand held out for you to take. “I assume you’re also going to headquarters?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you inspect the choice you’ve been presented with. Presently, you’re sitting in a field of fluffy dandelions, right outside Mondstadt’s gates. This particular gesture is harmless enough. It feels like a concession on your part, but nonetheless, you place your palm in his and he hoists you up from the ground.

You come eye to eye with Mondstadt’s resident genius, Albedo.

It isn’t until silence resounds that you realize you should respond.

“Yes, I was just about to walk over there now. How did you…?”

“I heard about Klee’s predicament. As her guardian, I wanted to smooth things over with Jean.”

“Of course,” you say a little too hastily. Your eyes flicker downward, to where your hands remain connected. Should you tug it back? The thought doesn’t sit well with you, it’s too flagrant. Fortunately, he notes where your attention lingers, and releases his hold. You pray the relief you feel isn’t too palpable.

You dust some imaginary dirt off your blouse. “I’ll let you get to it, then. I know you’re busy.”

“You aren’t planning to come with me?”

His tone isn’t the slightest bit accusatory, and still, you’re burdened with this burning need to defend yourself.

“Ah, well, there’s no need for both of us to go, right?”

“Klee’s missed seeing you around, you’re all she talks about,” The edges of Albedo’s lips tug into a smile. His eyelids then droop ever so slightly, and he tilts his head. “I hope your reluctance isn’t because you’re trying to avoid me.”

Incredulous, you gape at him, heat flooding your face. He’s impossible to get a read on. If eyes are windows to the soul, then that wall of impenetrable teal might as well be shutters. Most consider Albedo to be aloof and polite enough, if not impersonal. He doesn’t entertain conversations longer than necessary and prefers to be left alone to his own devices. You either pique his interest or you don’t. Depending on the category you land in, he’s more willing to show his wry disposition.

“I’m joking,” Albedo claims, though his composed visage remains impassive. “You’ve already done plenty for her. You’re under no obligation to do more.”

This snaps you back to reality. “It isn’t like that. Should we discuss this later? I don’t want Klee to be in that dark closet longer than necessary.”

He takes a moment to study you. You instantly regret the way your words came out, they were more abrasive than you intended. He didn’t technically say anything to incite your displeasure. From a purely logical standpoint, this rings true every time you’ve talked. You’re never given a justification for the apprehension his presence brings.

At least with a bad omen, you know what to expect, even if it foretells disaster. There’s a paradoxical comfort that comes from learning certain doom awaits. It is kinder to tell a man he’ll be killed tomorrow than to say he’ll be killed sometime in the future. He’ll rest easier the night total oblivion awaits compared to an agitated lifetime of glancing over his shoulder. True anguish comes not from knowledge, but a lack of it.

This is the limbo you occupy where Albedo is concerned. A permanent state of inertia that could equally be a product of your overimaginative mind or a legitimate threat. A pendulum swings yet tauntingly, yet never fully settles between the two.

Albedo finally grants clemency from being held prisoner beneath his stare.

“You’re right. That takes priority,” he relents. When he’s no longer facing you, he then casually adds, “It’s never good to be kept in the dark.”

You scrunch your lips to the side and follow him into Mondstadt.

“Big sis?”

Klee sits before you on a red gingham blanket. The little girl pinky promised not to try playing leapfrog with her bombs in Mondstadt’s main square again, but in return, she wanted an outing with you and Albedo. This request was paired with doe eyes and a pout. Although you had your reservations, this infamous combination easily demolished your defenses. So here you are, sitting beneath the shade of the monumental oak tree in Windrise. For the moment, Albedo is absent, the only sign he’d been here is his easel. He said something about needing a more accurate shade to faithfully paint your hair and took off to his workshop.

“Hm? What is it, Klee?”

You continue brushing through her platinum blonde locks. In all the excitement today, her signature hairstyle got entangled in knots.

“Are you mad at big brother?” She inquires, much to your astonishment. You’re grateful she’s situated in such a way that she can’t see your face. “When he comes back from the snowy mountain, I don’t see you as much.”

Your grip on the hairbrush tightens. Kids are nothing if not observant. “I’m not mad at him, no. I’ve just been busy lately.”

“All the fun grownups are always busy,” You can practically hear the way she puffs out her cheeks. “No one can tell stories like you, big sis. The chatty lady with a bird tried, but I couldn’t understand.”

What’s admittedly a cute anecdote tugs on your heart in a painful way. You do come around less often when Albedo is in town. For the longest time, he seemed content to conduct research for months in the frigid climate of Dragonspine. This allowed your interactions to be few and far between. Lately, however, he’s been hovering around Mondstadt like a storm cloud that refuses to dissipate.

Hence your current predicament: avoiding him meant avoiding Klee. It’s a temporary solution in desperate need of a better fix.

Not wanting to sully the mood, you extend an offer. “Would you like me to tell you a story now to make up for it?”

She practically leaps up in excitement. Stars twinkle in her eyes as she wraps her arms around your form, pulling you into a tight hug. You can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. You’ve never found the stories particularly impressive, though Klee would vehemently disagree. It must have to do with your flexibility to retcon Dodoco into every fairytale. He’s been a valiant knight, a mad scientist, an explorer of the sky, and far more. Your humble apartment is decorated with colorful drawings from Klee, depicting these collaborative storytelling efforts.

Her attention goes up and over your shoulder. “Big bro! Big bro! Big sis is gonna tell a story!”

He must be back. That was fast.

“Oh, is that right?” You hear Albedo reply. Klee nods fast enough that it’s a miracle she doesn’t get dizzy. “I had good timing then. It’s been a while since we’ve been treated to a [First] narrative.”

Is he going to make a point of mentioning that as well? You pay him no mind, instead opting to fix Klee’s hair before she gets too impatient. She sits crisscross, unclasps Dodoco from her backpack, and places him on her lap so he can participate. Meanwhile, Albedo gets to mixing his paints. He’s already roughly sketched various outlines onto the canvas. So far, it’s Klee tugging on your hand, pulling you to some unknown yet fantastical destination.

Klee once told you her big brother has drawings of you “everywhere” in his laboratory, prolonging the first syllable for emphasis. You still recall how you shuddered upon hearing this revelation.

“Let’s see… what kind of story would you like to hear, Klee?”

“A scary story!”

You knit your eyebrows together. “... A scary story? Are you sure? I don’t want to give you bad dreams.”

“It’s okay. I have Dodoco and my big brother to protect me,” Klee reassures. “Ms. Lisa told me I can’t check out a scary story until I’m older. She said you’d share one with me instead. Pretty please?”

That’s one crafty librarian. What is it with the Knights of Favonius and pawning their Klee-related problems off onto you? Your genial nature must lend itself to such dilemmas. After mulling it over a few moments, you arrive at a story that frightened you as a kid, but not excessively so. You’ll still tone down some elements regardless.

“Once upon a time, there was a poor married couple who lived in the woods. The wife was pregnant with their first child, yet she never had enough to eat. She asked her husband to pick vegetables from a nearby field, believing it’d long been abandoned by its owner, who they never saw. Her husband did as he was asked. He returned with cabbages, carrots, and potatoes. His wife cooked a yummy stew. Full and happy, she no longer had to worry about being hungry. A healthy baby girl was soon born. Their daughter grew up to become a sweet young lady who everyone in the nearby villages loved. Though the family had little, they cherished one another. All seemed well. Until one day, the father went hunting, and came across a man wearing a cloak.”

Klee’s eyes widen and she leans in closer.

“The man wearing the cloak revealed himself to be a warlock who had magical powers. He knew that many years ago, the husband had taken vegetables from his garden. The warlock demanded to be paid back for what was stolen. The husband said he had nothing of value. The warlock threatened the husband, saying that he’d place a curse on him and his family for a thousand generations. Unless, that is, he made it right by giving up what he loves most. And there was nothing the husband loved more than his sweet daughter. Left with no other choice, the married couple tearfully gave up their daughter to the warlock.”

“Oh no!” Klee exclaims in a whisper. “The poor daughter…”

You nod solemnly in agreement. “And so it was that the daughter was taken to a dark, isolated tower where the sun never shone. The warlock quickly fell in love with the woman, for she was very beautiful and kind. He did everything he could to make the young woman love him too. He gave her the finest jewelry and clothes in the land. Still, she wept bitterly at the sight of him, no matter what he tried. The warlock then thought to use his magic. One night, when he approached her, he created a pretty bundle of the reddest roses from nothing. She—”

“He made a flower? Like what big brother can do?”

…

An audible snap can be heard behind you.

You look over your shoulder to see Albedo holding his paintbrush, which has splintered into two.

There’s a quiet intensity radiating off him in waves. He’s frowning, though other than that, his countenance remains as unreadable as a tome in a foreign tongue. He ignores you completely and fixes his strange stare on his younger sister.

“Klee,” he starts in a monotonous voice, “Would you mind running back home and getting me a new paintbrush?”

“Aw, but big sis is in the middle of her story! I wanna know what happens to the nice girl and evil magic man.”

“You can find out when you get back. I’d really appreciate your help, Klee.”

It’s rare that Albedo ever asks for help, much less from her. She promises that she’ll be right back and sets Dodoco onto the picnic blanket, so that “you and big brother won’t get lonely.” She then skips off onto Mondstadt’s main road. Once she’s out of earshot, you stand to your feet, smoothing out the wrinkles on your skirt.

“Unaware of your own strength, huh?” You ask Albedo, almost absentmindedly. When he doesn’t respond, you swivel on your heel.

The alchemist is scrutinizing his work with a hand on his chin. He must’ve been in the middle of painting your hair when his paintbrush broke, the glossy streaks revealing that it’s still wet. You pull your lips into a straight line. It isn’t like him to zone you out. You’re about to voice a similar sentiment when he finally speaks up.

“It’s smudged,” he mutters under his breath.

The impossibly idyllic scene he tried depicting is marred with an imperfection.

Teal hues scrutinize you next. “Would you be open to changing the tone of the story when Klee returns?”

“Hm? Why’s that?” You cross your arms over your chest. “It’s important that she learns there are people in the world who don’t take no for an answer, always testing the limits of what they can get away with.”

It’s such a miniscule motion, you almost miss it, but you know for certain his eye twitched.

“Is that so?”

The calm waters of his voice obscure the raging tides hidden beneath the surface. Soft tufts of sandy blonde hair brush against his face as a zephyr passes through, rustling nearby branches with it. To be a citizen of Mondstadt and a child of Barbatos means to ascribe importance to the wind. The direction it blows, its strength, and what scents or sounds may come along with it. The Anemo Archon watches over his people with a certain fondness the other gods lack.

You wonder what it is he’s trying to get across to you.

“You have that expression again,” Albedo comments.

“... What expression?”

“A prey warily eyeing a predator,” he’s walking toward you now. You go stiff yet remain firmly planted. “Attempting to access the threat level and plan accordingly. To fight back, flee, or do nothing. Do you no longer find the last option appealing?”

The pendulum errs to the side of warning.

He still isn’t giving you anything substantial. In passing, you’ve heard of Sumeru scholars who spend their entire lives trying to find rare, elusive species. Camouflage is what allows these lifeforms to go undetected for so long. They slip under the researcher’s noses, almost tauntingly, blending into their surroundings and giving the false impression there’s nothing worthwhile to look at. Then the researcher moves on to the next area, frustrated and at a loss.

Perhaps you came to a conclusion prematurely. A lack of knowledge may be damning, but possessing it and being unable to do anything might be the cruelest fate of all.

“I don’t get it. Why don’t you just do something already? Say what’s really on your mind?” You seethe in a fit of frustration, jabbing your fingers at his chest. He doesn’t so much as flinch. “You obviously want something from me that I’m not willing to give. Is this some sort of punishment for not feeling the same way you do?”

“Nothing I do is intended as a punishment on you, [First].”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Waiting.”

You take a step back as if the word had physically pushed you. “What is it you’re waiting for…?”

Albedo extends his hand into the air. The sensation surrounding him begins slowly, a focusing of energy. He sees the world for what it can be, not what it currently is. A light golden hue emanates from his outstretched palm. You’ve seen him do this enough times to recognize the alchemical process. For a natural like him, overlooking notes or extensive preparation isn’t necessary. Sucrose often impressed upon you just how prodigious Albedo’s abilities are.

The gold light fades.

Dark green stems twist into vivacious hues of blood-colored petals. Utilizing his esoteric knowledge, Albedo produced a bundle of red roses from thin air. He takes one, inspects it for thorns, and once he confirms there are none, nestles it gently behind your ear. He sweeps your hair aside with such tenderness that any passerby might mistake you two as lovers.

Dumbstruck, you accept the bouquet into your hands at his prompting.

There it is. That mischievous glint, flickering in his eyes briefly, just long enough to burn. It extinguishes before you can gauge how dangerous the fire will one day become.

“Finish the story and maybe you’ll find out.”

#albedo x reader #yandere albedo x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff #commissions

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finelinevogue · 2 years

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imagine you and harry in a photo booth ellie IM SCREAMng

NO STOP IT RN

"Come sit here." Harry patted his lap, already sat down on the small bench inside the photo booth.

"I'll squish you though." You whined, standing outside the booth and in the centre of Urban Outfitters.

You and Harry had come shopping in London city centre, since you had birthday money to spend. Of course Harry had walked you in to shops such as Gucci and Selfridges to treat you, however you now wanted to go inside shops you could actually afford. Neither of you could just leave Urban Outfitters without actually going into the photo booth though.

“Sit down before I bloody drag you in here.” He pulled on your hand and took you into the booth with him.

“You’re funeral if I crush your legs.”

“Sorry, but you didn’t seem to care about “crushing my legs” last night.” He winked, making you give up and plop down on top of his thighs. Your face slightly blushed as you thought about last nights activities.

You settled comfortably on his thighs sideways, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so that you didn’t slide off. Harry made sure that his arms snaked around your waist to hold onto you and keep you sat where he wanted you. You leant into him a bit more, before reaching behind you and shutting the curtain behind you.

“How do we do this then?” You asked yourself more than Harry, reaching into your bag to dig out your phone.

It said ‘pay to start’ on the screen, you opened your phone to open up your bank app and caught sight of you lock screen. It was a pretty picture of your boyfriend, sitting on a beach in Brighton with a 99 ice-cream. He was laughing at something you had said and as a result had gotten ice-cream on the tip of his nose. It had been one of your favourite days ever, so you just had to keep it as your lock screen.

“You changed your lock screen.” Harry said.

“Yeah, I did.”

“What happened to the picture of us two?” He asked.

“Preferred this one of you.”

Instead of saying anything to you, he leant in and gave you a few kisses on your neck whilst your phone payed for the machine to start working. He even nipped the skin a bit, wanting to stain his love against the cool of your skin.

“Stop, H. You’ll make m’skin red on the pictures.”

“Don’t care. Just shows that I love you.”

“Go away, y’pest.” You shoved his face away as he started to kiss you in the same spot again.

The screen then started to count down from five seconds and you positioned yourself better in front of the camera. He tightened his arms around your waist and brought you closer in to him.

The first photo was both of you just smiling into the camera. Your heads just laying on each other and squeezing each other tight, your smiles just showing how happy you were both with life and with each other.

The second photo you looked at Harry and he looked at you, his eyes sparkling at you with so much love. You rested one of your hands on his cheek and kept on looking at him as if he hung all the stars in your night sky, smiling at him because you were so grateful to call him yours.

The third photo was entirely candid, after Harry had made a joke. You laughed so loud you nearly fell backwards and it only made the entire situation funnier. The photo was captured of the both of you without you even noticing.

The last photo Harry took the lead and crushed his lips to yours, holding your cheek as your lips moulded together in perfect harmony. He tasted like the bubble tea that you’d just shared together and it tasted so good. So fresh and delicious. Like him. He kept kissing you and kissing you, not stopping until he knew that your lips were going to be raw and flushed - exactly the way he liked.

“I love you so much.” You whispered against his lips, going in for another peck.

“If you stopped kissing me for long enough, I’d let you know that I love you so much too.” He chuckled, mumbling against your lips that you were too in love with to disconnect.

“I don’t want to stop.” You sighed, kissing him like it was your last kiss on earth. It was so soft and yet so desperate.

After another minute, you pulled back from each other to see the effect you’d made. His cheeks were flushed and his lips puffed. He looked utterly beautiful and you could honestly cry at how pretty he was.

“I love you.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #ask finelinevogue #harry styles fanfic #finelinevogue #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #harry styles blurbs #fic rec finelinevogue #harry styles fic rec #masterlist finelinevogue #harry styles fluff

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mybelovednick · 1 month

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Crimson and Clover, Honey (Chapter 2)

Main Page

Previously

Nick Sturniolo x Male!character

Summary: Nick Sturniolo is a Bookstore owner in a small town in Northern Italy. Vayu Arora is an elementary school teacher who is a frequent customer at Nick's Store. Both of them meet and they are suppose to fall in love like faith intended. But what happens when one of them is unable to let go of their past selves?

Nick x male!character Angst Fluff/comfort Hurt/comfort

TW: Too corny ig, smoking (don't do it kids. it is not cool)

******

“I have no news. I live quietly, I love you and I wait.”

This quote has always been a mystery to me. I wouldn’t remember where I first read it, or from whom I had heard it. But it stuck with me, forever. Yearning makes a person susceptible to the madness of love. If you yearn for something or someone, the line between love and obsession becomes blurry.

It was a lovely Friday evening. The breeze was just right as the clouds swiftly danced across the violet sky. The sun was about to set but the moon was already up. Tara invited us to her family restaurant to celebrate her grandpa’s seventy-second birthday.

Nate rode my red Vespa, with me on the back while holding onto his waist for dear life; because to him, my vehicle was a race car and the world was a Drag race. We reached Tara’s restaurant an hour late, regardless of the death race.

“You bitches were supposed to be here half an hour prior to the party and you reached in hour late. Explain, now” Tara was fuming.

“Yell at Vayu, if he had dressed up a little quicker we would be here so much earlier.”

“What? You were the one throwing a tantrum like fucking baby after seeing me wear the same coral shirt that you are wearing now! Of course I had to change into a boring black one.” I tried to defend myself.

“Not my fault I look better in coral.”

“Nathan I swear to God-“

“Okay fine, Jesus!” Tara yelled at us again. (We deserved it), “Let’s go inside and hurry up, Grandpa is waiting for you guys.”

“Awe I missed you Jeremy.” Nate cooed from behind as we entered the room and everyone cheered.

The restaurant was not a very fancy one. But it did feel like home. I’ve always loved Tara and her grandparents, Jeremy and Lizzy. Frank Sinatra was playing in the background because Jeremy loved Sinatra, “Play his songs in my funeral” he’d say every time.

Tara, Nathan and I were the only ones who were not above the age of fifty-five. We all wished Jeremy ‘Happy Birthday’ and Lizzy kissed him, to which all of us cheered like monkeys in a zoo. I loved watching people smile. I loved watching people enjoy their time. Tara was in charge of the food and overall party. I was on tea duty, i.e. ensuring that every single person had their tea cups filled up to the brim. It wasn’t a difficult task considering there were barely over twenty people in the party. Yes, tea in Italy is a bizarre concept but apparently Lizzy can’t stand the smell of coffee and ever since she visited Darjeeling with her husband, she has been addicted to this beverage.

Nathan? Well he was busy impressing Lizzy’s friends. Those sixty-year old ladies loved him for some reason. “Oh you look ravishing today, Demi. And you too! Rebecca, that hair is flawless, Jim is a lucky guy.” Who am I kidding? Everyone loved Nate.

I was simply observing them, holding the warm tea kettle close to my chest; almost zoning out in the process.

Perhaps this is what love is after all; watching people you love fall in love with other people you love.

Being in love on the other hand, will always be strange, no matter how many times you’ve experienced it in your life. It is like falling in love with the moon. It looks beautiful from afar and even more tempting in theory. But no matter how many songs or poems you write about it, it will remain absurd in practicality to be in love with the moon. And you feel like the ocean, reflecting the image of your beloved moon in your turbulent waves just to get a glimpse of it. Even during the most intense storms in your life, you strive to keep your water as still as possible to catch your beloved in the reflection. It is the madness, and obsession that we humans love to bask in. This madness is love; and this love is strange.

“Yoohoo! Vayu! Tea boy, fill this up please.” Lizzy called for me raising her cup. I quickly nodded and rushed towards her. But as I was about to pour her up, she held me by my wrist and sat me down beside her. She was one strong woman for someone claiming to be suffering from arthritis.

“So, who’s the boy?” Lizzy asked in a sing-song tone.

“What? Tara told you?” I panicked.

“Oh dear, no. I just noticed that you seemed pretty distracted there and you have a glow to your face.” Lizzy said and I had to smile, how could I not? “See? You are so giggly and smiley like that. You should smile more often, you look even more handsome.” Lizzy winked.

“Well, I’d have to be a psychopath to be able to resist smiling when you say stuff like that.” I knew my face lit up like a Christmas tree at that point.

“Well, I mean it baby boy.” She held my hand carefully, “Now tell me about this man.”

I raised my eyebrow when she scooted herself closer to pay attention. She was determined to get me married to a nice man because…Honestly? I don’t know.

“Well he works at the bookstore. The one near the Marylyn street.”

“Oh I go there sometimes, I think. Is it the Libreria del Sentiero ?”

“Yes! That’s the one! Wait, do you know the guy who works there?”

“I think I have met that gentleman quite often. He comes here to get a cup of black coffee and abrownie. He is such a sweet man, and he sure does love my brownies.”

“No one could ever not like your brownies, Lizzy.” I smiled at her and she smiled back, “So, uhm… is he here often?”

I could feel her grin growing on her face. “Yes, Nick does come here on Wednesdays and Fridays.”

Nick.

Short for Nicolas, maybe. It does suit him. I remembered thinking that immediately.

Just then Lizzy’s eyes lit up. “Oh goodness, Look at that! He is standing right there, near his motorbike just along the parking. This is a sign! Vayu. Go now!” She was practically jumping in her seat while shoving my shoulders to push me out of the chair.

“But the party-“

“Fuck this party.”

Goddamn, this old lady was not playing.

She touched my cheek and kissed it quickly, “Look, V. You deserve to be happy, it is not a crime. Stop being so kind to the world and so harsh to yourself. Love doesn’t show up at your doorstep, you know? You need to chase it. Even if it doesn’t work out, you don’t get stuck in a world of what ifs. Nick is a good man. He is worth taking a chance.”

I hugged her and bid her goodbye. “Thank you.” I whispered mostly to myself. I made an excuse to get out of the party and pushed the door open.

He was standing a few meters away. I felt like I was in a romcom movie. Maybe it was because of the stars in the sky or the warm fairy lights right outside the restaurant window. Or it could be because I was willing to take a chance again.

Nick was wearing a bright red vest and a black leather jacket with black jeans. His shades were tucked on top of his messy blonde hair. And he had a pack of Marlboro in his hand. I walked towards him, still unsure of my footsteps.

God, he is beautiful.

“Need some help with the lighter?” I tried to be casual.

“Yeah, sure.”

He was so nonchalant that it was almost infuriating. He handed me his green lighter and I helped him light up his cigarette.

I watched him take a deep drag out of that cigarette. He closed his eyes and let out the smoke through his mouth and nose. He was leaning against his bike with his arms crossed. He watched the cigarette getting eaten up by the reddish-orange flame, firmly placed between his fingers.

Nick quickly bit into his own cigarette lightly with his lips and held the pack of Marlboro towards me while raising his eyebrows, gesturing if I needed one too.

“I am good, thank you.” I instantly replied.

He rolled his eyes.

Cocky bastard.

A few moments passed. It was really awkward too. I felt like pushing myself off a cliff. But I noticed a few things; he was just a few centimetres shorter than I was. However, nobody could deny that he was built. I actually felt like a twig beside him.

“Vayu, right?”

I thought I was going to combust with joy. “You remember me?”

“Of course I do. Who else would buy one of Shakespeare’s best classics with a fucking Porn magazine?”

If it were someone else, I would have knocked their teeth out (breaking my knuckles in the process.). But I saw a beautiful smile starting form in his face. He was really proud of what he said.

And I was glad I met him once again.

"You should smile more often." I blurted out. Nick looked at me with furrowed eyebrows. But soon his expressions relaxed a bit.

"Then make me." he said

*******

Next Chapter

A/N: I promise there will be more nick in the upcoming chapters

p.S. I love Lizzy

Tag: @ohmtoff @freshloveforthefit @miloisdone1 @nicksfavhoe @heyitsmemia @neo404 @matty-bear2 @thenickgirl @loud-sturniolos @maria4mari @solarsturniolo @darl1ngdr1sta @tkhzs @soursturniolo @certifiednatelover

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicksturniolo #fanfiction #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo x male reader #headcanon #nick sturniolo fanfiction #fanart #sketch #nate doe #tara yummy

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captainjunglegym · 2 months

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WIP WEDNESDAY - 13/03/2024

Tagged by jon @bigassbowlingballhead love u pal <3

I am on somewhat of a short writing sabbatical I tell myself. I've posted nearly 75,000 words in six weeks which is a lot for me. So I'm taking this week to relax from my WIPs before starting to post scheduled oneshots and start a new chaptered fic.

That being said i wrote a 1500 word fic this morning which you can just have here lmao.

Summary:

Exes Alex and Henry meet at the funeral of Henry's twin George who was killed suddenly aged only thirty-five. They haven't seen each other in four years.

The wind is bitter as it blows down from the top of the hill. It’s March, so it’s that time of year where the sun isn’t quite ready to negate the feel of the chill early in the morning and late into the evening. It’s already eleven am and the sun does feel warm when the wind dies down. A few moments reprieve where Henry doesn’t have to pull his coat tighter around his body or wish that he’d worn something that was more wind proof.

They don’t really make raincoats that are funeral approved, however.

Still, he pulls his thin black pea coat so it doubles over him. It’s too big. It’s not his. It was too big for George too, but his brother loved to wear oversized things. Said it made him feel small and holdable.

The thought crushes Henry. What he’d give to hold George now.

Everyone else has already gone. His mother didn’t even show. Her grief is exponential, increasing and deepening at such a fast rate now that she cannot be touched. Losing her husband young destroyed her, but burying one of her children eviscerated her. Not even the scars of her former self remain anymore.

And Henry understands. More so maybe this time than when his father died. He loved his father so much, but George was his twin, the other half of his soul. Maybe this is what his mother felt. Maybe this is what it feels like to break apart. Except she isn’t haunted by her husband by every reflective surface, by every future birthday. By every photograph of his childhood, every fucking Instagram post. By every friend they had because they didn’t even have separate friendship groups. Everything they had they had together and now Henry inherits it all.

It's too much.

(continues under cut, tags following)

It’s times like these that Henry curses being raised as an atheist. He wishes he could believe that something came after this, that he and George will meet again, but he can’t. People tell him that George is in a better place. A dark part of him agrees that six feet under some fucking dirt is probably better than living in a two bed on Peckham Highstreet. It’s a lot cheaper.

Henry gets the sudden urge to jump into the grave. It’s open, waiting for someone to come and cover George and seal him down there forever. Henry could just jump in with him.

“I didn’t think anyone would still be here.” A voice says from behind Henry, startling him.

He turns to see a beautiful man wrapped up in a warm black coat and scarf. It’s Alex, because of course it is. Who else would be so late to a funeral they miss the entire service. Who else would spring up out of the ground at Henry’s moment of despair like some kind of macabre dandelion.

“Right on time, I see.” Henry tries to snark, but his voice comes out small and fragile.

“My flight was delayed.”

Henry hums. “Nice to know George wasn’t worth flying out a day in advance.”

“Don’t.” Alex says, firmly but not aggressively as he moves to stand next to Henry. “Don’t do that, H.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t act like I didn’t care about him too.”

Henry feels crazed, like he wants to scream and tear off his clothes and jump into the lake and inhale the water.

He lets out a forced laugh instead. “Oh right! Of course. My apologies. Of course my ex-boyfriend who I haven’t seen in four years also cares about my fucking dead twin brother, so much so that he shows up uninvited at his funeral an hour too late. I’m sorry for being so insensitive.”

“H-”

“-No!” Henry shouts. It’s so out of character that it snaps Alex’s mouth shut. He lowers his voice. “No. I don’t know why you’re even here.”

Alex looks down at his shoes. “Would you believe me if I told you Philip invited me?”

Henry scoffs. “Pull another one.”

“It’s true,” Alex says gently. “He called me…after… He called me when, uhm-”

“-When George was stabbed to death in a pub in broad daylight?”

Alex lets that sit for a moment. “Uhm. Yes. He called me again to invite me.” He takes a deep breath and when he speaks again his voice cracks, “we were together for ten years, Henry. I loved George like he was my own family. We were a family.”

And they were. Alex had met Henry at university, and they fell in love almost immediately. Alex had transferred to London and George was assigned to be his ‘buddy’ and he’d always taken credit for introducing Alex to Henry. Always said that he’d have to mention that in his speech at their wedding.

The air leaves Henry’s body, but he doesn’t breathe out. It just evaporates in his lungs. He and Alex never got married. George never got to give his speech. And now George will never be able to give a speech at his wedding. Never be his best man.

But he has to give it to Alex. George was his friend and he know that they’d sort of kept in touch over the years, in an Instagram comment every couple of months. He never begrudged George of that. Their breakup was hard, and Henry got everything. Got their friends, their flat, the whole fucking country. Alex had gone back to Texas and not looked back. George was collateral in their breakup too and Henry knows that losing Alex was tough on him as well.

“H?” Alex is hesitant, but he gently takes Henry’s hand in his.

“I don’t know how to do this.” Henry says suddenly. “I don’t know how to do any of this without him.”

George was his better. The two-minute older brother who was confidant and sociable, who looked after Henry every fucking day for thirty-five years. Who literally and metaphorically held Henry’s hand throughout all of their hardships. Henry remembers their father’s funeral, how Philip was stone silent, and Bea was high, and their mother was vacant. How George, only eighteen, took charge and read a eulogy. He was a lighthouse built onto the rock, so strong and bright.

Afterwards George had cried, they’d both cried, in each other’s arms. But the next day George had got out of bed and forced Henry to do the same.

“It’s going to be hard; I know.” Alex says, squeezing his hand. “But you’re stronger than you give yourself credit. I mean. Look at me. You left my sorry ass.”

Henry thinks about how Alex had lost himself in his work and how their relationship had degraded over six months of broken promises and missed dinners and sitting alone in their apartment. And how it broke him down into nothing before he’d finally had enough. They’d both had enough.

He’s heard that Alex is doing better now. That he’s finally learning how to have that work/life balance that was only a dream to them back then.

“I’m all alone this time.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am. Bea has Michael and the twins. Philip is…well he’s Philip. Mum is completely vacant and our friends are all grieving.”

Henry knows Alex is going to say some placating bullshit like, ‘oh it’s okay you have me,’ like he doesn’t live thousands of miles away.

“You should come stay at the lake house.” Is what Alex says instead.

“What?”

The lake house was their place. Before everything went to shit, they often spent time there, sometimes with their friends, sometimes with Alex’s family, sometimes just the two of them. It’s a haven, really. A place where time doesn’t exist. All sunshine and water and blues skies.

“Come stay at the lake house. Get away from London for a while.”

“But my family-”

“-Be a little selfish for once, H.” Alex turns to him and looks him in the eyes. “I don’t have to be there. You can just come and unwind in the sun. Take a break from this all and have time to grieve properly.”

It’s insane. It’s irresponsible. It’s not possible. He buried his brother an hour ago, his family is falling apart again but.

But this time they all have their own families to fall back on. Their own spouses and kids. Even his mother lives with Philip and Martha and has them to look after her.

Henry lived with George, not out of necessity, but out of love. George who’s dead. George whose dirty tea mug is still on his bedside table and his laundry still in the hamper.

He can’t go back there.

“Okay.” Henry says. “Okay I’ll come with you.”

And, later, it’s hard to get on the plane. But once he’s in the air, he takes his first deep breath in weeks.

[End]

easy tag for @anincompletelist @eusuntgratie @nocoastposts @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @littlemisskittentoes @thinkof-england @happiness-of-the-pursuit @wordsofhoneydew @sparklepocalypse @magicandarchery @sunnysideprince and anyone i've forgotten plus open tag for anyone!!!

#writing tags #my fics

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szallejhscorner · 1 year

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Easier

“What are you talking about?” you shout in an almost hysteric voice, and Chishiya leans back against the sofa and exhales a deep breath. He didn’t want this discussion, especially not on his only day off since two weeks. And even though he tried anything to avoid this certain topic, here you are – arguing about the exact thing.

“It’s not even much I’m asking you for”, you continue since he remains silent. “One family meeting. Those are like once or twice a year? That’s really not too much to ask, is it?”

Chishiya just watches you, face reddened with anger and breath quickening while you try to convince him. You have told him everything he needs to know already. The wedding of a cousin, one that you really like but that lives quite far away, so you want to spend the whole weekend there. Maybe even do some sightseeing on the day after the wedding.

It wouldn’t be too much to ask for, of course. Family meetings aren’t that bad when it’s your family, and Chishiya never attends the ones on his side anyway. No, he’d have agreed to it without discussion if it wasn’t for one single detail.

“You know it’s the weekend of the Surgeon ESC.” That one world congress for surgeons that will exhibit really interesting innovations, products and services about anything a surgeon could dream about. This year, the congress will be in Switzerland and Chishiya has already been given a ticket both for flight and accommodation as well as the congress entry.

It is an important event to him, much more important than a wedding of someone he has only seen once in his life. And he doesn’t even prohibit you to go. You’re free to visit your family for the entire weekend, but he can’t accompany you this time. There will be plenty more weddings, funerals and birthdays where you can brag with your fantastic surgeon boyfriend.

“That’s…” ruffling your hair with one hand, you pace the living room the way you always do when you’re upset. Chishiya has watched it so many times now, but rarely has he been the reason to upset you. “Why do you want to go there, anyway? You already know everything they will tell you!”

Chishiya huffs. “Probably. But one doesn’t always get a ticket to Zurich to meet the world’s best surgeons.”

“And my cousin doesn’t marry like five times a month. This is a once-in-a-lifetime-event, Shuntarou! And that stupid congress is every year. You can go next year. Or follow it through an online stream or something.”

Follow a congress via stream while he sits in a hall filled with people too loud and too drunk to lead proper conversations with? Where all he will do is avoid questions why you two haven’t married yet, why there are no children, and more pathetic stuff that most people expect from others? “You can send me pictures”, he suggests in a last attempt to soothe the situation. While he doesn’t care about fancy wedding dresses, flowers or decoration, he’d allow you to spam him with images so you’d be happy. But apparently, it is not enough for you.

You have come to a stand, hands now crossed across your chest and eyes as cold as ice. “You’re so much like your father.”

That’s all you say, in a low and bitter voice, and yet those few words have more impact on Chishiya than the rest of this conversation. He clearly is not like his father, and you are perfectly aware that what you said affects him deeply.

He stiffens and holds your gaze with the same fierceness. “Am I, now? I recall you saying that you really hated my father.”Which is fine, for the record. He despises that man, too, for more reasons than he ever told you.

“He’s not really a likeable man”, you admit with a tremble, probably realizing that you have gone too far.

Breathing out audibly, Chishiya gets up from the couch and reaches for his jacket. This is not the place he wants to be in right now – he needs space to clear his mind. “If you despise him so much and we’re the same, I don’t understand why you’re still here.”

“Wha-“ you snort, shaking your head in disbelief, “don’t twist the facts now, Shuntarou! What’s the point, now?”

“Well, you’re obviously unhappy with how this is going. I won’t cancel the congress, and you won’t let me go. If this doesn’t work out for you, you better pack up and leave.”

Chishiya slips into his jacket and puts on his shoes, fully aware that you’re still staring at him, fiddling with your hands while you search for the right words. “We’re not done here”, you shout, “where do you think you’re going? Let’s sort this out like adults and don’t run away like a child!”

Chh. As if he’s the childish one here. Knowing that there’s no point in arguing any further, he opens the door and leaves.

“Maybe I’ll just do that – pack and leave”, you threaten, but Chishiya doesn’t look back. He needs fresh air, and you definitely need some time to calm down and clear your mind.

The weather outside is cold, with a harsh wind blowing through his hair, so he pulls up the hood of his jacket to stay warm. Chishiya doesn’t pay any attention to where he’s walking – he has seen these streets hundreds of times already and there is nothing interesting to notice. All he passes are windows with half-rotten flowers, candles gathering tons of dust and the mandatory old cat that belongs to an even older lady.

He acknowledges the people passing him as little as they acknowledge him. Most of them are lost souls with dreams they will never fulfill, drowning in self-doubts, debts and misery. And here he thought you were different from them.

Chishiya has been naïve to think you’d know him well enough by now to let him go. It’s human of you to wish that you’d do everything together, that a family gathering means you both will be there, but Chishiya isn’t like normal people. He has made it clear right from the start that his priorities differ from the pathetic standard – brand-name clothes, huge follower counts on social media, the love for small-talk that most seem to have. He doesn’t approve of public cuddles and kisses, he won’t gift you chocolate and flowers on Valentine’s Day and he’d never propose to you on one knee with a cheesy quote on his lips.

You had been fine with all that, and yet you have forgotten about who he really is today. It has happened before, but never did it end in such a discussion. Chishiya has told you to leave, and while saying it had been hard, he means it. If you’re unhappy with who he is, because he won’t change into a completely new person just for you, this might not be the right relationship for you. What a miracle it has been anyway for Chishiya to bond with you in the first place. Maybe it’s better to return to who he was before, expelling anything that has to do with love from his core.

Yes, he wouldn’t be surprised to see you gone, leaving for good to search for another relationship that suits you better. It isn’t what he wants, but it’s the most logic consequence.

The wind gets colder and a drizzle begins, cloaking Chishiya with a heavy blanket that fits the mood, and yet Chishiya doesn’t turn around. The cold causes his limbs to go numb, and the sound of water dripping faster and faster onto the earth is almost hypnotizing. Most people flee into the dry buildings now, and Chishiya almost feels like the last person on this planet.

If every other human would disappear at a moment’s notice, if the rain would swallow every living soul, leaving only one hollow person, he could forget about the argument. Nothing would matter anymore – no corruption, no violence, no stupidity would be left. Just him in an environment that would immediately forget about humanity and take everything back that had once been claimed as human.

Chishiya would like that, somehow. Returning to his apartment will probably feel the same in case you’ve stuck to your threat and left. Not only will it feel empty, but it will be empty since most of the interior belongs to you. The images on the wall, small trinkets from other cities and other countries that you visited, nothing belongs to him.

You’re the one to bring color into his life, but at the same time, you make it so much more complicated. He has long accepted that he cannot have one without the other, but if it always leads to arguments like the one you’ve just had, he doesn’t know if bringing color into his life is actually worth it.

Thunder growls in the distance, and when Chishiya looks up, blinking through the heavy raindrops that now are falling, he soon sees the next flash tearing through the dark clouds. His hands have begun to tremble, and it is about time he returns to his apartment before the storm comes too close.

It is a long way back, and despite the weather and the fact he’s soaking wet from head to toe, the walk has been more than refreshing. The silence and the cold air have chased away the heat from the argument, and his body will be numb enough to muffle the pain when the apartment will actually be empty.

As soon as he can see the building, his eyes are glued to the windows that belong to the place you two used to live in for quite a while now. All the windows are dark, there’s not even a hint of light in one of them.

The water soaking his clothes and body slow him down noticeably, or maybe Chishiya hesitates to enter too fast. But he eventually reaches the door and pulls out the key while water drips down, creating huge puddles beneath his feet.

Inside it is silent and dark, without music or light. Nothing is running on the television and nothing is simmering on the stove. Have you left after all?

Chishiya gets rid of his wet shoes and throws the jacket onto the ground as well. There’s no need to cover the entire floor of this apartment with water, since the housekeeper will only come in two days.

It is redundant to turn on the lights – he knows where to go, and he doesn’t need to see things already missing. It would be impossible to take everything you own with you at once, so you’ll have to come back again to get the rest, but some of the most important things you’d never leave behind, and Chishiya knows exactly what it is.

He heads for the bathroom to change into dry clothes, but something strikes his view as he passes the sideboard. That certain photo… it’s still there.

And as he pauses, a feint noise reaches his ear. Slow and rhythmic breaths, coming from the sofa, where you have fallen asleep under a heavy blanket. Your face is wet from tears since you’ve been crying, but…

You’re still here.

Chishiya breathes out, only now realizing that he has held his breath. You didn’t leave, which also means that the discussion about that certain weekend will continue. Chishiya won’t change his mind about the congress, but since you’re still here next to him, there’s a change you have finally understood that. This congress is much more important to him than a wedding of some cousin, although it doesn’t affect the way he feels about you. That’s something you really have to understand: the future will bring even more arguments like this one, where Chishiya will prefer something over what you think is more important. It doesn’t mean though that Chishiya doesn’t respect you. The fact that he feels relief upon seeing you is more than enough evidence to prove that.

He continues to watch you for a few heartbeats longer, until most of the tears on your face have dried up.

It’d be better if you had left, leaving Chishiya alone so he could lead an easy life. But he is glad to see you here, covered in your favorite blanket as if nothing had ever happened. You make things complicated, and yet…

Chishiya likes the complicated and deviating, doesn’t he?

#chishiya x reader #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #aib #alice in borderland #oneshot

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legoiscrying · 10 months

Text

Happy Birthday, Eric Cartman

A small Kenman piece I wrote for his birthday 🤲

Note: I made them middle school here but ages don't affect the story at all soooo enjoy

***

Eric sighed quietly as he rolled over, now facing the wall. After gazing at the ceiling for the past thirty minutes, he already realized that he's not going to get much sleep tonight. How much easier it would be if he could just lay and instantly fall asleep as it always happens. But it was an unlucky night for him right before his birthday.

He was...Moderately excited. I mean, which middle school kid wouldn't be excited for his birthday, right? Maybe some depressed dude or a lame hippie wouldn't, but Eric hated those guys anyways. He's not a little child anymore tho, so he won't jump of his bed right at 7 AM in the morning, but he was pretty excited for the gifts his mother was preparing for him and also the usual party he was hosting.

2:30 AM already, and Eric's still wide awake. He's never getting it right before his birthday. Now he just lies and mumbles something to himself. The weather is shitty, so he can clearly hear the wind noise even through the closed window. Well, at least it's better than lying in a complete silence...Cartman thinks so until something hits his window.

Something hits his window. Suddenly all the wind noises before don't sound like wind noises anymore, because someone is clearly moving outside. God. Eric won't admit it, but he's scared. Of course he's scared, this whole situation looks like a cliche horror movie plot. The 2 AM, the window, the noises...And the next step should be dead Eric Cartman. Then a tragic morning discovery, then his crying mother at the funeral, and then...Wait, no, this isn't going to be like that. He was actually about to call his mother, but then the killer would kill him instantly or what's much worse would think he's a pussy. He can't let that happen! If someone dares to try to kill Eric Cartman at night, they should face the consequences without any mercy.

Holding a pair of scissors in his hands, Eric was hesitant to open the curtains. That was until he heard the familiar voice through the window.

"Psst, Cartman, open your window!" the voice says.

"Kenny? My fucking God," now Eric more confidently opens the curtains and looks down - it is Kenny! Kenny Mccormick, looking at him with "open the window" puppy eyes. Somehow Eric does just that, and in a few seconds his friend is already in his room. "What are you doing here? I'm trying to get some fucking sleep."

"But you aren't sleeping. Phew, I thought I'd have to wake the princess up," Kenny says, giggling.

"Two shits you're gonna wake me up."

But in the end, they both don't look very tired, so Eric decides that he can go with that.

"Running away from home again, Mccormick?" he says mockingly.

"Nuh-uh, just going for a walk," Kenny shrugs and looks away.

"Right. A walk. At 2 AM. Through the entire town. You're such a comedian," Eric says, nearly laughing.

"Shut up. It is a walk. I'm not leaving Karen there, I'm gonna return home by morning and go to school. Just need some...time." Kenny replies, his voice a bit sadder.

"And you decided to walk directly to my house. I swear, if I was actually sleeping and you'd woke me up, I-"

"Chill out dude, I wasn't going to wake you up, I was just stopping there and thought maybe you wasn't sleeping, and I was right!" Kenny smiles victoriously.

"Uh-huh, and that's why you decided to throw something," Kenny replies with "a stick" and giggles. "a fucking stick at my window!"

"That's just a small detail," he chuckles.

"And what do you want anyways?" Cartman asks. "It's not like we can do any of the cool stuff right now when my mom is asleep. It doesn't mean that I don't want to wake up my mom, it's just-" and he begins his five minute rant about his mom and about how tired and annoyed he is.

Kenny listens through entire thing without saying a word of interruption and with a curious expression on his face. After Eric finishes, he speaks. "Actually, I came to wish you a happy birthday."

A few second silence. This, at almost 3 AM, seriously?

"Huh. You know I haven't invited anyone to my birthday yet, right?" Eric says, confused.

"Yep."

"And you know I might not invite you, right?"

"You'd be a bitch then, but yeah".

Cartman just pokes him instead of a usual "Hey!", and Kenny starts giggling again.

"So...You remembered?" Eric asks curiously.

"About your birthday? Yes," Kenny replies, visibly confused. "Jesus man, why are you so weird about it?" he laughs.

Well, not a lot of people seem to remember without me reminding them!

"You are weird, Kenny. You showed up to my house at 2 AM to wish me happy birthday."

"I just had to do it first!" Kenny says and starts laughing again.

The situation quickly became much more lovely than it was at the beginning. It surely feels nice and weird at the same time: nice to have someone who cares so genuinely, weird to not have a need to force them to care. With all of that, Eric seems to feel...Happy?

"You know Kenny, you aren't so bad of a guy after all."

#south park #sp #kenneth mccormick #kenny #kenny mccormick #sp kenny #sp kenny mccormick #cartman #eric cartman #sp cartman #sp eric cartman #kenman #sp kenman #sp kenny x cartman #sp cartman x kenny #kenny x cartman #cartman x kenny #happy birthday eric cartman!!!!

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waltwhitmansbeard · 7 months

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Perc'ahlia Week Day 3: Mask/Trinket

another day, another @percahliaweek fic! this one was supposed to be the shortest one. lol. also available on ao3!

Vex hasn't seen her husband in days. She only knows he's even in the castle because of the meals being brought up into his study at semi-regular intervals. This is part of the deal, loving and living with the Terrible Tinkerer of Tal'dorei, but she's so curious. The last time he got like this, he disappeared for two and a half weeks and emerged, eyes bloodshot and hair stringy, with the prototype of the acid-powered streetlamps that now illuminate the paths of Whitestone each night. She's sure that whatever he's working on now, the city will be all the better for it, but that doesn't stop her from being grumpy in the meantime.

It also doesn't stop their children from noticing their father's absence. Luckily Gwen, still too young to recognize his odd behavior, has little to say on the matter, but the twins keep trading jokes about the elaborate, world-ending device Percy is surely working on, and Vesper grumbles that he's postponed their scheduled Celestial lessons again. Little Danny, however, is taking things the hardest; every night, when Vex tucks him in and kisses him good night, he murmurs, "Mama, he's gonna come to my birthday party, right?"

And every night, Vex makes a promise that she'd rather kill Percy with her bare hands than break. "He wouldn't miss it for the world, darling boy."

When the party in question rolls around, a raucous affair to be held on the castle grounds, with all manner of games and music for each and every child of Whitestone to enjoy, Vex steals away early in the morning to bang on the locked door of her husband's study. "Percival Frederickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, open this door now."

There is clanging and shuffling and crashing, and about forty-five agonizing seconds later, the door creaks open, revealing a sliver of manic blue eye. "Hello, dear."

She could throttle him. "Do you know what today is?"

"I do."

"Do you plan on joining your son at any time today?"

"I do."

"At any particular time, or...?"

"The party begins at noon, yes?"

His funeral will begin at noon if he doesn't stop being the most aggravating person she's ever met in her life. "Yes, and Danny would very much like both of his parents to be in attendance."

Percy seems not to have heard her. "Noon...yes...noon should be fine...I should be done by noon..." And then the door is shut and relocked unceremoniously in her face.

Well. She supposes she must trust him to keep his word. She spins on her heels and marches off to get dressed.

All of the children of the city start gathering in the late morning, and soon the castle grounds are alive with screams and laughter as the noble family of Whitestone celebrates its youngest son's birthday. There are endless tables of pastries and treats, courtesy of the Slayer's Cake, and Trinket's cub Charlie bounds around happily, hoping for dropped scraps from the young mouths eating them. Grog, in his esteemed position as Grand Poobah de Doink of All This and That, has been tasked with games, which all seem to involve either throwing or being thrown, but Vex gauges from the shrieks of delight that they're having fun. The height of entertainment, of course, are the magical rides offered by Keyleth and Scanlan, who use their shapechanging powers to transform themselves into a magnificent silver dragon and an ostentatious purple winged horse, respectively.

Vex has a hard time focusing on the party, though, because she's keeping a weather eye out for her wayward husband. As the party wears on, he still has not appeared, and even though Danny is currently occupied by Keyleth's mesmerizing ice breath, she knows that soon enough, he's going to notice that his father is missing.

Just as Vex has resolved to set the castle ablaze with the aim of smoking Percy out, the man himself appears, freshly washed and shaven and not nearly as frenzied as he'd seemed this morning. He has a wrapped box tucked awkwardly under his arm. She charges up to him, fists clenched at her side. "Where have you been?"

He at least has the nerve to look sheepish as he says, "It took longer than I'd hoped to finish, but I think it'll be worth it. Where is he?"

She has no clue what he's talking about, but for his sake, he better be right. "He's with Keyleth."

Just then, a loud groan erupts from where most of the children had gathered, and Vex sees a familiar head of red hair, and she knows that the hour must be upon Keyleth's Shapechange. Percy tuts happily and strides off in that direction, and Vex scrambles to keep up. "Danny!"

The birthday boy turns at his father's call, a grin breaking out like sun rays through clouds. "Dad!" He runs and launches himself at Percy, who kneels down just in time to catch him with his free arm. "You came!"

"Of course I came, little bird. I am very sorry that I was late and I am very sorry that I've been gone for a while, but I hope you'll like what I was doing while I was gone."

Danny frowns, confused, but then he notices the present, and delight sparks in his eyes. "Can I open it?"

Percy hands it over, and Danny, with an eagerness only a kid on his birthday can manage, tears into the wrapping. The box beneath is square and a few inches thick, and with shaking excitement, Danny lifts up the lid.

The mask inside is so lovely it takes Vex's breath away. It is entirely mechanical, a pastiche of clockwork pieces and whitestone that all weave together to form the unmistakable shape of a bear's face. Danny squeals, carefully picking it up out of the box. "Whoa..."

"I know how much you love playing with Trinket and Charlie, little bird, and I wanted to make you something to fit in. Look here." He flips a tiny switch on the inside of the mask, and like magic, the wheels and gears begin to move, and the mouth and eyebrows twisting together to form a mighty roar, which emanates from somewhere within the mask. "Now you'll be just a fierce as they are."

"Can I put it on?" Percy helps him strap the contraption to his head. Vex is sure it must be heavy, given its component pieces, but Danny can barely contain his glee when he announces, "I can't even feel it! It's just like I'm a bear!"

As if on cue, Trinket himself lopes over to nudge Vex's shoulder. She pats him on his graying muzzle, and then he leans down to sniff at the mask. Danny reaches up to flip the switch, and the resulting mechanical roar makes the enormous bear jump. Danny lets out a peal of laughter, then rushes up to wrap his arms as far around one of Trinket's legs as he can manage.

"Do you like it, Danny?"

Danny releases Trinket to throw himself mask-first at his father, who ducks his head out of the way just in time to avoid being brained by the metal parts. "I love it! It's the best birthday present ever!"

Then he's off, eager to show all of his friend his new bear mask, and Percy straightens up with a groan. He gives Vex a self-satisfied side eye. "Well? Was it worth it?"

Oh, he really is the most aggravating person she has ever met on this plane or any other. "Yes. Well. You could tell me what you're up to next time. So I don't think you're neglecting our children."

He wraps an arm around her waist, his hand broad and warm on the center of her back. "Would I ever?"

"So I don't think you're neglecting me."

He hums low in his throat, and she watches his Adam's apple bob hungrily. "Yes, well, fair enough. Should I make it up to you tonight?"

This plane or any other. "I really think you should. Several times."

"Yes, dear."

#percahliaweek #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia fic #my fic #perc'ahlia week #percahliaweek23

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wrenreid · 1 year

Text

Off Limits

all chapters in master list

content warning: dead parent talk

Part Fifteen

The events of approximately 7 hours ago play on repeat in my head. I can still taste him, feel the warmth of his soft lips on mine. God it was a great kiss. I felt like I was going to met into his lap and have to stay there forever. Which I would not have minded in the slightest.

I wish I didn’t have to leave, but honestly I’m a little relieved I did. I’m not sure what would’ve happened had I stayed. Would we have done it? Maybe. But then again maybe not. Definitely not. It’s too soon. I’m not that type of person. But then again again he is Spencer, and I think I’d give up my right leg for him if he asked.

Dad, Jack, and I are watching a movie over frozen yogurt right now. But while their eyes are focused on Lilo and Stitch, I am still seeing Spencer’s lips on mine.

Lying to my father about where I went for nearly an hour wasn’t hard, but trying to hide my flushed cheeks and swollen lips was. Luckily, his post-nap drowsiness got in the way of him noticing anything off.

So instead of having to explain my gushing attitude, I got to change the subject to the matter of dinner.

After the movie, Dad helps Jack get ready for bed, and I hang back in the living room and attempt to come up with a reason to text Spencer.

The only reason I can come up with is because I want to, and it seems valid enough.

“Hey”

I text him, no punctuation because a period seems too serious, an explanation mark makes me seem desperate, and everything else wouldn’t make sense. I then text again,

“Are you busy?”

He doesn’t respond, so I take that as a “yes” to my question. A slight frown forms on my lips, but I know I can’t just expect him to answer every time I reach out. He’s a grown man with a life.

I head upstairs to get ready for bed even though I definitely won’t be sleeping for at least another few hours. I turn Friends on in my bedroom and scroll through my phone, silently hoping for a text back.

I don’t get one. Even in the morning when it’s been 12 hours since I sent the message. I debate on asking if he’s alright, but I don’t want to annoy him with my texts.

God, I hate being 21. We’re still like teenagers when it comes to texting, and we’re all terrified of spamming someone and looking desperate.

“I should be back around five,” my father says as he reaches around me to grab his coffee mug off the counter top.

Even though today is just a paper work day, he still makes sure to say “should be” because, of course, there’s still a possibility of a case and him leaving for days again.

“Love you,” I say, my mouth still full of toast.

“Love you too. Aunt Jess should be here to pick Jack up soon,” he tells me, making his way out of the apartment.

My aunt is taking Jack to a birthday party for one of his friends that she often nannied with him. I am personally glad to have the day to myself or to do whatever I want.

“It’s so good to see you, sweetheart,” my aunt says with a smile, pulling me into a hug.

I haven’t seen Jessica since just a few weeks after my mother’s funeral.

“God you look just like your mom right now,” she tells me, her eyes starting to water before she blinks back the tears.

Jack grabs her hand excitedly, eager to go to the party. I’m grateful his eagerness removes me from that interaction.

“Nice to see you, Aunt Jess. Thank you for taking Jack,” I smile softly.

“It’s no problem. I’ll see you soon, sweet girl,” she says and allows my brother to pull her out of the apartment and down the hall.

I can’t be mad at her for mentioning my mom; she is her sister. But I hate that people feel the need to bring up touchy subjects when the emotions could’ve been avoided.

She always says I look like my mom, but I think we just have the same nose. Unfortunately, I am one of the many girls who grew up being an almost carbon copy of her father. Which made me feel extremely awkward because hearing “You look just like your father!” at 15 really shreds a girl’s self esteem.

My mom used to say it didn’t matter who I looked like, but it mattered which traits from each of them I inhabited. I’ve got my father’s stubbornness that’s for sure. I’ve got his determination and hunger for success. I don’t know what I have from my mother. I’ve never been the nurturing, gentle type that she was. Haley Hotchner was the perfect embodiment of grace, a gazelle if you will. And I’m like a bull. Thank you very much, Dad.

I plop down on the couch and kick my slipper-covered feet up on the coffee table. Today is going to be so relaxing without anyone to bug me.

And just as I’m done finishing that thought, my phone chimes with a text from CeCe. She asks for plans because apparently she’s bored out of her mind and her parents are talking to her about settling down and marriage. I tell her she can come over

“Thank you for saving me from that,” she sighs, shutting the door behind her. She crawls onto the couch with me.

I chuckle softly. “No problem.”

“So what’s up? What’s new in the world of Jade?”

“You’re really that bored that you want to hear about what’s been going on with me after almost a week of being home with my little brother?” I laugh softly, shaking my head.

“Yes!” CeCe groans.

“Well,” I say. “Perhaps I had something slightly more interesting than hanging out with a four year old happen.”

CeCe situates herself to where she can rest her chin on her knees. “Spill.”

“I made out with a guy I’m sorta kinda falling for,” I blurt out, twiddling with my hands.

“Oh my god, Jade Hotchner! There is a guy and you haven’t told me?” Cece exclaims, her eyes boring into my soul.

“It’s not a big deal,” I say defensively. “And honestly, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“The guy from your political science class? The kinda ugly one with the glasses and the haircut that makes him a little cuter?”

I roll my eyes. “He was not ugly.”

“A little bit,” she holds her pointer finger and thumb together, almost pinching.

“He was really sweet though, but no,” I chuckle softly, “not him.”

CeCe takes a minute to think, eyeing me. “It’s not Spencer is it?”

I cough, laughing a little. “What?”

“Oh my god, it is. You made out with Dr. Reid?”

“Kind of,” my lips press together in a thin line.

“How does one ‘kind of’ make out with someone?”

“I don’t know.”

“You made out with your dad’s employee,” CeCe laughs, shaking her head. “I’m so proud of you. You’re like a baby slut now.”

“What the fuck is a baby slut?”

“Ya know, like not quite a slut but getting there.”

I let out a chuckle, rolling my eyes. “I’m definitely not getting there.”

My best friend pokes my thigh, teasingly. “I am so proud of you. High school you would be too!”

“Shut up, Ceec,” I blush, shaking my head.

“So what happens now?”

“With me and Spencer? I have no idea. We’ve made out twice, and now I think he’s ignoring me.”

“Hold on,” she holds up a finger. “My mind is blown. Twice?” She pauses dramatically. “Wait why do you think he’s ignoring you?”

“Because my texts have now been left on delivered for 18 hours,” I explain.

CeCe bites her teeth together, tsk-ing at me in thought. “Hey, at least it’s not read.”

“Well, he has read receipts turned off. I did that for him so he could not feel the need to respond to everyone right away.”

“Oh, Jade,” she sighs.

“And thus you see my dilemma.” I gesture my hands outward.

“Mhm, I do,” CeCe nods. “Okay, so are you guys like a thing, just kissing, what?”

“I have no idea,” I groan, slamming my palm on my face.

“These stages are always the worst, but they’re kind of exciting,” she says.

“There’s nothing exciting about this. Spencer… he’s like different than everyone else I’ve had this type of situation with,” I say honestly.

“Because he works for your dad?”

“CeCe, I swear to god…”

“Okay, okay,” she laughs softly, holding her hands of defensively. “How is it different?”

“Because he’s an actually grown up. An actual man,” I tell her. “I’m used to stupid college guys. Even the pre-laws are stupid. And Spencer is… the opposite of those guys. He’s brilliant, kind, and like totally hot, and god, he’s a good kisser.”

Her eyes widen a bit. “Oh girl. You’re falling falling.”

“I mean it’s not that deep,” I say, back-tracking. “We’re friends. We’re whatever we are. And he may be all of those things but he’s also ignoring me, so I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Confront him about it.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” My teeth tug at my bottom lip.

“C’mon, miss lawyer. Just tell him straight up what you’re thinking.”

“And if I don’t know what I’m thinking?”

“Wait until you do.”

I nod, taking in a breath. “Right. Okay.”

“I’m here for you, baby slut.”

My best friend becomes the victim of a punch to the arm.

What am I thinking, what am I thinking? I don’t know. I mean, yeah, I like him, I’m thinking that. But I also know that my dad might kill us both if he found out about anything. And I know Spencer isn’t stupid, he wouldn’t want what I do. And I’m pretty sure I want him.

The sound of a fist hitting my door rings through my apartment three times. I just got home from grocery shopping for the first time in weeks. The refrigerator was severely lacking nutrition, as am I it seems.

I exit the kitchen to answer the door, and the face I’m greeted with is the one I want to see the most and don’t want to see the most at the same time.

Jade.

Before I can get an awkward “hello” out, she says, “You’ve been ignoring me.”

My cheeks flush pink, and I know my face is giving me away. But of course, she had already figured me out anyway. I stand there nervously, my face twitching a little.

“I,” I start, but I don’t know how to finish that sentence. She’s not wrong. I have been ignoring her.

I’m not proud of it, but how do I talk to someone who is the focal point of all my guilt right now? I was in the wrong for last night. What we did was careless and stupid, and I’ve never been careless and stupid. I feel like shit over it.

“Jade,” I say, her name rolling off my lips too easily.

“Spencer,” she says. I shouldn’t have told her to call me Spencer. I like it too much.

This is becoming our routine, huh?

She steps inside my apartment, and I let her. She walks past me and onto my couch. I let her.

“You know what we did is wrong,” I say, joining her on the couch, keeping my distance.

“And yet, we’ve done it twice,” Jade says.

She’s not wrong.

“It doesn’t make it okay. No matter how much you hate it when I say you’re my boss’s daughter, it’s true. And for that, what we did is unethical and careless.”

Jade rolls her eyes. “We kissed, Spencer. It’s not like we fucked.”

Her choice of words cause my eyebrows to raise. I clear my throat. “Well, no.” But I wanted to. I would never admit this out loud, but in that moment… if she wanted to, I would’ve. And that’s a problem. I shouldn’t be flirting with or kissing my boss’s daughter let alone wanting to sleep with her.

She’s off limits.

“Then I don’t see that much of a problem,” Jade says.

“I have a moral code, Jade. And getting involved with you violates it.”

“And what if you move aside that moral code?” She asks. “Then what?”

“What do you…”

“Let’s say my dad isn’t your boss. Then what?”

“Then it wouldn’t be as wrong,” I say carefully.

“You know what I think, Spencer?”

I’m scared to know what she thinks.

“I think fuck this moral shit. I’m a grown ass woman no matter how much you or my dad think otherwise. There’s obviously something here, and you can say we’re just friends all you want, but…”

“We’re not friends,” I cut her off.

“What?”

“We’re not friends,” I say again. “You’re not wrong about that. We can’t be just friends. But it’s not a good idea to be anything else either.”

Jade leans a little closer to me. “Fuck good ideas.”

A small smile creeps onto my face. I can’t help it. “You’re crazy.”

“A little,” she shrugs.

“What am I going to do with you?” I groan, that smile still on my face.

“I really think kissing me again is a start,” Jade grins.

sixteen

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @daydreamingqueen1 @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @jazzerbelle14 @kylakins88 @f-me-reid <3

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edupunkn00b · 16 days

Text

Progression: Chapter 7, Traitor

Photo by edupunkn00b

Prev - Traitor - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

The Muse (and his twin) turn twenty-one. Written for @imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper's @dukeceit-week-2024, Day 7: Dive Bar. WC: 3287

The Muse paced the length of his room, a heavy tome gripped in both hands as he forced his eyes to follow the hand-lettered text. Since the Purge, volumes like these were a treasure and though the edges of his pants were ragged and frayed, his hair shorn short at the back of his neck to stop himself from yanking it out, he cradled the book like the precious rarity it was.

"’A girl likes to be crossed a little in love now and then. It is something to—’” he muttered aloud, shaking his head. He closed the book, slowly, carefully, just like Jannie had showed him and he stroked the woven cover. His feet stopped in front of the shelf and he scanned the other spines before swapping one for the other.

“‘And perhaps you might pretend, afterwards, that it was only a trick,’” he read as he paced, gaze fixed on the book as his body led him over the well-worn path. The carpet had begun to fade in long meandering strips, marking off the longest contiguous trails around the room.

The words wobbled with each step, or maybe it was Orwell’s text.

“‘And that you just said it to make them stop and didn't mean it. But that isn't true.’” His voice fell away as he continued to read for three more laps before making a gagging sound at the back of his throat and changing that book for the next on the shelf.

His mouth twitched as his fingers trailed over the embossed title of the next book. A hundred years, huh? "’El mundo era tan reciente que muchas cosas carecían de nombre, y para nombrarlas había que señalarlas con el dedo…’” The words flowed off his tongue, falling into little drops of honey along his path. Perhaps you only had to point at things to name them, but The Muse could name a thing to make it. “‘"Saca esos malos pensamientos de tu cabeza", le dijo. "Vas a ser feliz".’”

The Muse frowned and closed the book, not as gently as the first. “No, you won’t.”

The next book was no better. “‘She used to give me a thrashing every morning—’”

Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope…

This one he slammed shut and shoved back onto the shelf, whispering a quiet apology before selecting one last volume. He started at the end, eyes dancing over the page. “‘This funeral wasn't about honoring truth, but about honoring a memory.’”

He mouthed the words again and tried to imagine what the author might’ve sounded like. Sinking to the floor, he sat with the book cradled in his lap and continued to read. “‘‘It was about honoring the friend they had lost, whether they had lost that friend a day ago, or five years ago.’” A slow smile spread over his face as he flipped the slim book to the beginning to start at the start.

The Muse was on his third re-read when warmth rippled toward him from the hall, soft and wispy, smoke after you blow out a flame. He hugged the book to his chest and leapt to his feet. He’d nearly reached the door controls when Jannie spoke.

-”May we come in, Muse?”- The warm trickle turned into the comforting blast of the furnace, opening the oven on a frosty day. The scent of fire and vanilla, burnt sugar and those tart winter berries Papa Bear like to pick. Jannie was in a good mood, which meant the ‘we’ was him and Lucas.

“Fuck, yes, you can come in!” The Muse shouted and stepped back from the door, ready to fling himself at Jannie’s arms. The door panel lit up and, as Jannie stepped inside, he remembered the book just in time and laid it on the little table by the door before he threw himself at Jannie. “You’re here!”

A bubble of heat enveloped them, pushing away the sticky cold sadness just under the surface of Jannie’s skin. “Of course I’m here, Muse…” His voice was shaky, like he hadn’t spoken aloud in a while. He had to tell Jannie his trick, reading out loud to keep his throat limber and smooth and—

“It’s your birthday,” Jannie continued, one gloved hand carding through his hair. He wished Jannie would take them off. Maybe later. Maybe that was the plan, especially with Lucas here. Lucas always helped them both stay calm when, wait, it was his birthday already?

“It’s not my birthday, Jannie,” he argued, laughing, and pulled back, only a little, only enough to look into Jannie’s eyes. “My birthday’s not for another week, it’s…”

His smile froze in place as Jannie’s hand slid down and over his cheek, the soft material of his gloves—his good ones, the old cotton ones he used to keep in that box in his dresser he and Ro had found—his gloves, they were soft but they caught on the thick growth on his jaw.

He’d shaved this morning. Hadn’t he?

“It’s… it’s been a week?” Jannie looked down and their little warm bubble shrank, ice fizzling on the edges.

“It has, Re.” Lucas stroked Jannie’s cheek, his bare cheek, the skin soft at the touch and glowing white hot so bright The Muse had to close his eyes. Static brushed his mind. When he opened his eyes, he was sitting on the floor, Jannie and Lucas in front of him.

Lucas’ eyes glowed softly.

“Where’s Ro?” he asked, eyeballs bouncing between the elder Mad Lads, waiting for one of them to speak. Jannie’s shield was strong and The Muse danced around the border, the tingle of static tickling his fingers with each little poke. “Can I see him, maybe just for…”

He couldn’t see past Jannie’s shield but his silence spoke for him.

“He’s not ready,” Lucas answered instead and gripped Jannie’s hand. Slowly the static eased and Jannie smiled up at him. Sad and small but a soft smile. A good smile. A strong one that wouldn’t break if he pushed at it.

The Muse nodded. “Yeah, I… I figured. Is he… is he having a good birthday?” The room grew brighter, daffodils and honeysuckle sprouting in the corners. “I… I was gonna make him something, I…” He blinked and looked around the room, a large box covered in red cloth he’d stitched together sat by the door. “Oh, I did make him something. Will you give it to him?”

Jannie reached for him, patting his arm through gloves and his shirt, too, too much between them to really feel it. “Of course we will, Muse,” he spoke and said, the words flooding his mind and raising it up, wind under wings.

He floated, a feather on the breeze. “But first, Muse, we wanted to do something for your birthday. Even if…”

Even if he couldn’t be with his brother.

“I’d like that. I’d really, really like that!” The Muse leapt to his feet, swaying slightly. If he hadn’t really shaved this morning, had breakfast not been this morning, either? His sink was empty, the stove cold and spotless. Maybe not. “Can…” What if they said no? A little lump of ice grew just above his stomach. “Can you both stay? I’ll make us something yummy and—”

“Actually, Muse,” Jannie caught Lucas’ gaze, eyebrows high in a question The Muse couldn’t help but hear. Not that he tried very hard not to listen in. -”Do you think he’s ready?”-

Lucas nodded and Jannie’s smile grew, just a bit. “We thought we might try something different.”

Luc's gentle touch still tingled against his skin, long after he'd turned his attention—and the focus of his power—to The Muse. Janus knew he'd been concerned, remembered the tight twist in his chest as they'd taken the elevator down to The Muse's rooms, remembered the icy spike in his gut when the Muse admitted he had lost an entire week. The warmth of Luc's touch spread through his skin, a whisper of reassurance.

He watched Luc's hands glow where he touched The Muse's temples, the deep amber bleeding out from between his eyelashes. After a long while, Luc lowered his hands and smiled at The Muse. “How do you feel, Re?”

“I feel great,” he smiled back and held out both hands, soft gaillardia blooming in his palms. They grew slowly, waving gently in a breeze none of them felt. He closed his fingers around them, gently and when he opened them, the flowers were gone. “I’m in control,” he grinned. “Look at that!”

Luc’s eyes glowed next to him. “You are,” Janus smiled. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

The trio flew the smaller transport north. Not far, just looking to get a little further from the hubbub of the migrated seaports and cities sprouting up around the new Federated Capitol Building. The Muse sat buckled in his seat, face pressed to the window as he watched the sun set over the lakes. Luc laughed from the pilot seat. “ still there, love!” He pointed at a flickering blip on the main navigation screen and grinned. “Still transmitting! I can’t believe they’re still open! Do you remember?”

Lucas shared a flash from their first visit to The Inn. Younger then, they’d danced together long into the night. In the dim light of the bar, surrounded by Powered and Traditionals alike, couples and constellations had drawn together and celebrated all they shared instead of clashing over all the distinctions carved between them in final throes of The Purge.

Over”hearing” the shared vision, The Muse hummed in his seat. Under the heavy dose Lucas had used, The Muse’s eyes moved a little slower, his smile a little… Janus’ mind supplied the word dull but it was merely less sharp than it usually was. Less jagged. Softer. Like his face moved through water to change with the thoughts racing through his mind.

They landed smoothly, The Inn’s old system recognizing Luc’s old stolen—borrowed—transport beacon. “Where everybody knows your name…” Muse sang quietly, where he’d heard that melody was beyond Janus’ understanding. He barely remembered the old passphrase.

Luc grinned and lowered the ramp. “After you, ma cheri,” he murmured, offering an arm to The Muse in turn. “Ready to dance?”

The bar’s exterior hadn’t changed much. The faded, sagging awning was still there, though a closer look underneath revealed the old metal frame had been replaced by cheaper plexisteel. Bartered for scrap during the worst of it, Janus guessed. Same for the old glass window panes. He’d be nearly anything they’d been bartered in exchange for the licensing board looking the other way when the tumult had ended.

A rumble of heavy bass rattled the chipped sign above the door, beckoning them in with a simple, Welcome, All.

The Muse’s gaze went far away, seeing through the bar’s façade, seeing through his own façade. He grinned, broad and… spacey. “I like it here, Jannie.”

“I thought you might,” he nodded, the tightness in his throat and his chest easy to ignore. He opened the door and ushered them both inside.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you all in a long while,” Andrew called from behind the bar. “‘Fraid you’d… Y'know—” He made a cutting motion across his throat and pulled a face.

“Nah, we’re too bitchy to kill,” Luc laughed, leaning over the bar to hug the wizened owner. “You know that.”

“Glad to see it. You brought some young blood with you, too,” he said, coming around the bar to accept a long hug from Janus. “Well, even younger than you two,” he added with another laugh.

The Muse stiffened, eyes locked on Andrew’s face, reading him. He shuddered, knees twitching in the darkened club. Andrew didn’t catch it, but Luc did.

“This is Re,” he said and wrapped an arm over The Muse’ shoulders, fingers grazing the back of his neck. His fidget disappeared, the spiky energy pouring off him smoothing out at the edges.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, palm outstretched with a tiny green orchid blossom nestled at the center.

Andrew’s eyes widened and he took a half-step back. “Oh, he’s—” Features carefully schooled, Traditionals wouldn’t’ve noticed his fear.

But Janus wasn't a Traditional. “He’s with us,” he said, voice low.

Andrew nodded slowly, looking between the three of them as he wrestled the flurry of thoughts spilling from his mind. Finally, he smiled, nearly genuine, and returned to the taps behind the bar. “First round on the house, then.”

“Water for me,” Luc smiled.

“How 'bout the D.D. special then,” Andrew laughed, and poured Luc a purple fizzing beverage before passing two glasses of beer to Janus.

The Muse grabbed his arm, spilling a bit of foam from one of the steins. “Can we dance first?” he asked, eyes bright.

“I was hoping you came here to dance,” a low voice behind them rumbled.

A cold itch crawled up Janus’ spine and he moved between the interloper and Muse. He was a Powered, a strong man like Pat, as far as Janus could tell. Very low Esper, which made it easy for Janus to prod, to see what beyond the typical ick of a bar pick up was hidden in the man’s intentions.

Looking just over Janus’ head, he smiled at The Muse. “Unless you’re otherwise occupied tonight?”

“Nah, I’m not with them,” The Muse laughed, taking the other man’s hand. “They’ve got each other to keep them company. Right?” he added with hopeful eyes at both Janus and Luc.

“Enjoy yourself, Re,” Luc said, threading his fingers through Janus’. -”He can handle himself, love,”- he added silently. -”Besides, we’re right here.”-

-”Yeah, Jannie,”- The Muse jumped in with a little dance of his shoulders and absolutely zero decorum. He blew them both a kiss and followed the man out onto the patch of carpet that served as a dance floor. “Happy Birthday to me!” he cheered when the song transitioned to a faster tempo.

Janus pointed to a table as far from the speakers as he could manage without putting any other tables between them and the dance floor. He sat facing the dancing couples and Luc settled into the seat closest to him. “He’s having a good time,” he said, nudging Janus’ knee under the table. “We're in a safe space. You can relax a little while."

"Perhaps," Janus nodded, a golden bubble wrapped around his worries. He sipped at his beer before the bubble popped. Setting aside all pretense or propriety, Janus locked in on the thoughts swirling around the dancing pair. He just needed to know.

The Muse was… nervous, but giddily so. Happy. Happier than Janus had seen him in years. Not since he’d been a child, playing with his brother or pranking teenage Virgil. Janus watched The Muse dance before nodding and taking another sip.

“He’s having fun,” Luc whispered behind his glass, nursing the purple concoction. “And look—” As the music slowed, The Muse took one of the man’s hands and traced colorful shapes against his skin. “He’s in full control.”

“Thanks to you,” Janus said, focusing on the man’s expression. He looked unsurprised. He'd probably clocked Muse as a Powered before he’d even approached them. The implications twisted in his stomach, cold and prickly. Luc’s hand on his forearm was warm, though, and after a moment he sighed, all but a spot of worry leaving him with his breath. “You’re right, he’s having fun.”

“He is,” Luc murmured, leaning closer to kiss his cheek. “Now,” he grinned and slid his now-empty glass into Janus’ hands. “Why don’t you get us a refill while I keep watch. We can take turns.”

Janus laughed and took Luc’s glass. “I see Andrew’s mixology skills haven’t faded with time.” He stood, then leaned over to swipe his own small kiss. “Either that or you’re just as cheap of a date as you ever were.”

“Bah!” Luc scoffed, one lovely hand pressed to his chest. “I resemble that remark!”

Still chuckling, Janus sauntered over to the bar, eyes forward but his thoughts stretched out toward the other patrons, the other dancers. To The Muse and his dance partner. The music had slowed, a steady, undulating beat that traveled up from the floor and through Janus’ shoes. He hummed, following the cover-of-a-cover-of a song that had been an oldie when he was still a child, young enough his Powers had not yet been discovered.

Look at the way… We’ve got an eye on what we’re doing Cause what would they say If they ever knew and so we’re—

“Lucas likes this mix, yes?” Andrew grinned from behind the bar, sliding over a full glass before Janus had even asked. Something itched at the base of his skull, fighting past the calm Luc had given him.

‘Re’s completely keyed in to your moods, love. If he can feel you scared, if he can feel you worried, he’ll feel like you don’t trust him and he won’t trust himself.’

Luc’s words had been soft. Certain. He shook his head and the itch grew. Luc’s refill cradled in his hands, he looked over his shoulder. Luc was blinking slowly, a crooked tipsy smile on his face. Janus whipped around and stared at Andrew. “What’s in this?” he demanded.

But Andrew wasn’t looking at him. No, he was staring past Janus’ shoulder at something on the other side of the bar. He followed the bartender’s gaze.

Just in time to see Muse slip outside with his dance partner.

“Luc!” he cried over the music and ran toward the door, sidling past the sudden surge of patrons crowding his path. -”Luc! Luc, let’s go!”-

-”What’s wrong, love?”- The fuzziness in Luc’s response shattered his calm. He was closer to the door than to Luc, though, and he pushed through just in time to be hit with a wave of fear.

Muse’s fear.

-”Muse! I’m coming!”- He stepped out into the muggy night air. The landing pad was lifeless, a few airskiffs and smaller transports like theirs dark and idle. He closed his eyes and a light bloomed from the dark alley next to the waste bins. Muse!

Janus ran, following the faint scuffling sound and the overpowering sense of panic. He staggered under the weight of it, heavy ropes tightening around his chest, squeezing his heart. His pulse pounded in his ears, a syncopated thud, his own layered with Muse’s. The bar door slammed open just as he reached the alley.

“Jan! Jan, wait!” Luc called after him, heavier footfalls catching up fast.

A cry more animal than human pierced his mind and Janus dropped to his knees, both hands over his ears. Strong hands—Luc’s?—helped him up and together they followed the shadows in the alley. Leaning heavily against Luc’s side, Janus fumbled in his jacket for a light. Finally activating it, the beam bounced wildly until it landed on the man from the bar, doubled over and gripping his own head.

Muse towered over him, shirt ripped and eyes closed. He didn’t speak and when Janus reached for him, pain ripped through his mind until he pulled back, wrapping his mind in his own strongest shield.

“Please, Muse, no!” he shouted, fighting to be heard over the cacophony in his own mind. The man’s cries intensified and he began to bang his forehead against the dirty pavement. “Stop it! Stop, Muse, you’ll—”

And in the next breath it was over. Suddenly silent, the man slumped over. Deadweight. His head struck the pavement with a loud, wet thwack and Janus’ light trembled, illuminating dark blood seeping from his eyes in its shaky beam. Muse knelt before the man's body, shoulders shaking and a horrible high-pitched sound spilling from his lips.

Muse laughed.

#Progression #dukeceit #dukeceitweek2024 #sanders sides #demus #platonic dukeceit #ts janus #ts remus #ts lucas #i will make that a tag if it's the only thing i do in this fandom :D #we're getting close to the end and this chapter…#well‚ yeah #sanders sides fanfiction #janus sanders #remus sanders #lucas sanders

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lavenderhhaze · 1 year

Text

YOU'RE MEDICINE

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader

wc: 1.9k

about: where he is forced to return to everything he has been running away from: his hometown, delivered texts, declined invitations and you.

warnings: death of family members, funerals, underage drinking and smoking, panic attacks, problems with showing vulnerability, allusions to a kiss, swearing

“ my own hometown never felt like home. i'm not asking for your pity, but there's nowhere left to go ”

Hyunjin is the curse of misfortune.

He is cigarette ash and narcissism. He is a watercolor painting, blues and greens with purples and pinks. And unfortunate. Watercolor bleeds.

It is 1:28, clear as day, phone pressed to his ear when he is delivered the unfortunate news. The world stops, the NYC rush fading into the background until the faint buzzing is the only thing he can hear.

Time stretches and compresses in its own pace. The rush from his apartment to the airport is silent. Ticket to Central Japan booked for his two-day stay, his heart a hollow in his chest as he prepares to face the hometown which never felt like home, his mind already lost in the city that was once his father's.

The funeral is quiet — a private, reserved occasion with only his immediate family in sight. Hyunjin is listless; tired eyes and tight smile as he goes through the formalities, thanking everyone who came, pushing back any sense of deja vu that comes over him. Now the oldest Hwang in line, everything falls upon him — another responsibility on his burdened shoulders.

It is after that, when the sadness hits, the guilt pulls him down by the ankles and the mourning begins. It is when he is alone in his hotel room, the white untouched sheets making him homesick for something he can't put a finger on.

He scrolls through his contacts for someone, anyone to guide him through the building hysteria in his chest. It is a strange sort of feeling, the tranquility he had forced himself into subsiding to give way to distress.

He runs through his options mentally: Jisung, Chan, Yeji, Changbin, his heart sinking deeper into guilt as he arrives at his last option — you. He is forced to relive the memories of every unanswered invitation to missed highschool reunions and every message delivered but not replied to.

All of this simply because Tokyo had become overwhelming for him — every memory too bittersweet for his conscience. The city had become restrictive, the air confining. And so, he chose to leave. A new life in New York, a new dance programme, his own new beginning.

Hyunjin is two. He looks around in confusion as his family mourns his grandfather's death. He sits next to his father, across from the shrine, knees politely tucked under him. He doesn't understand death, of course. Not yet. He breathes in burning incense, rejoicing the sweet scent of pine wood as he patiently waits for grandfather to be back from yesterday's morning walk.

Hyunjin is five, his boyish laughter echoing through the playground. And suddenly, it stops. He trips and falls, his knee scraped on concrete. He whines and tears well in his eyes as he is hushed and coddled by his mother. He knows what pain is, of course. It's purely physical, easy to forget after a few words of affection.

Hyunjin is eleven. Older, taller, leaner. He finds himself sitting across from the shrine again. Only this time, his mother's face stares back at him sweetly from the frame set on the table. Candles litter the table, bouquets of flower placed sparingly in between. It's the same pine incense from ten years ago, only this time, he knows what death entails.

Hyunjin is fifteen, sitting cross-legged in a crowd of eight on Jisung's birthday. He has a beer can held lazily in his fingers, a courtesy of Changbin's, occasionally taking sips to keep himself entertained. Jisung leans forward, spinning the empty glass bottle eagerly. Hyunjin's eyes follow, led by the bottle as it finally stops — at you.

Everyone cheers. Apprehension is a feeling shared only between you both. Another sip and he leaves the can on the floor as he moves over to you. You stare, wide eyed, awaiting, almost speculative. He leans in, the chant of both your names a constant in the background. And so it is — Hwang Hyunjin's first kiss, half-drunk, half-sober.

Hyunjin is seventeen, built against inhibition. Long black hair, cold brown eyes and porcelain skin. It isn't his looks though, that gains him attraction. It is the way he carries himself — with this elegant sort of arrogance.

It is the way he moves, so fluid and unsuspecting that always guides the school's dance crew to their trophy. Minho's favourite student, despite how he smells of cigarette ash and is late to every recital. It is the extra hours he puts in, where it's the music, him and the ticking clock in the empty dance studio. And as time calls — his last year in Tokyo.

Hyunjin is nineteen. Reputed dance programme in NYC. He doesn't miss Tokyo. He misses you. He misses Jisung. The only constants through the past years. Unfortunately, it doesn't come without missed calls, declined invitations and delivered texts he never replied to.

He has days where the world is unbearable, texts are overwhelming and memories too heavy. And the only way he finds his grip back? Letting go. As he has done time and time again.

And finally, he is twenty-two, heavy heart mourning deaths — his father's and his friendship's. Too tired from living through every experience Tokyo brought back to him, his own movie playing in front of his eyes, he lies down. He's weary, he's tired.

As the moment of vulnerability shows, he's crying with noone watching. It's silent and fatigued. His overdrive of emotions giving finally giving way to sleep as midnight fades into morning.

And that morning, Hyunjin decides, he needs to see you. He needs your grounding to hold him together when everything he knows is falling apart.

He knows every turn by heart — right from the second downtown alley and the fifth apartment counting from the convience store. Number 105, flat 16.

The dimly lit staircase and chipped wall paint floods a tide of repressed memories over him. Running upstairs, tailing Yeji with Jisung at tow, the made up competition to who sees you first subsides in a fit of laughter. New Year mornings spent in your balcony, eyes awaiting for the fireworks to begin. Festive air and childhood resignation.

It all has worn off, just like the beige paint revealing the cracked plaster underneath. Disappointing. Unwelcome.

"Flat 16" stares back at him dauntingly. He is not the boy he recalled being at 17. He's fragile, with you holding the power to break him. His arrogance has dusted off, leaving bare his raw emotions to be judges and ridiculed.

He hears shuffling after his apprehensive knock. Seconds stretching far too thin before the door finally creaks open.

You. Similarly worn out, equally tired. Not the girl he remembers kissing at 15.

You. With the same softness and that bitter edge, the sarcasm to compete with his.

Hyunjin feels a surge of emotions, somewhere in between wanting to cry and wanting to curl up out of sheer fucking happiness, both overpowering each other as he gives in and smiles — giddying, fulfilling and intimate.

"Hi."

You blink. Once. Twice. Taking in the sight before you. The same hyunjin from years ago. Stunned silence halts only to be further followed by disbelief.

"Hyunjin."

It's the same way you had said it years ago — an aggregate of every sort of emotion: begining with anger, contempt, surprise, apprehension and ending with this resignated sort of joy.

"The fuck you looking at?"

You laugh, stepping back and letting him into your personal space. It feels strange, in a way. It's almost a stranger you see in him. The hyunjin you remember was arrogance personified, teenage enigma, the corners of his lips turned up with only a touch of fragility to remind you he was still human. That's what you remember seeing first. That's what you remember falling for.

It's the same man that stands before, taking a seat at the edge of your unmade bed.

He clears his throat, casual, as if the years of no-contact was but a terrible dream. Apprehensive of your response at first, but his shoulders slouch with comfort as the ease sets in.

He agrees to your offer of beer, relaxing even further next to you. Two cans of beer sir opened on your bedside table, shoulders nudging into each other as you both laugh, reminiscing evenings spent in similar fashion.

The past few years have been a burden on his shoulders, it is evident to you. Yet, it doesn't show in the way he smiles, doesn't affect the flush of his cheeks when he tips his head back, his laughter so full. He doesn't let it slip when his slender fingers trace his scars, one running across his forearm and the second on his cheek, recounting their stories.

He asks how you have been, and you answer, aware of how he does everything he can to whisk to the conversation towards you. Your future. Your family. Your life. You.

He wishes he could stay here, relishing in your comfort before he prepared himself to face the world outside. There is so much left for him to do, begining with the plane ticket to New York in less than 8 hours.

And with this thought as his last straw, Hwang Hyunjin cracks. He counts his fears out aloud, for the first time. Despite the assurance of you being there, of your warm hand on his forearm and your cheek pressed to his shoulder, he's afraid.

He doesn't need to explain himself, not to you, he is aware. It is but instinctive to push you away. He doesn't need anyone. He hasn't until today. But you. You bring this sort of relief he hasn't felt ever before. Lowering his guard had been terrifying. But vulnerability is the cost of comfort.

He feels your hands cradle his face as your thumbs wipe away the tears that slip past his inhibition. Your eyes are warm, intent and he finally catches the glimpse — pity. Fuck.

His hands are quick to grab at yours, wrists enclosed between his shaky fingers as he pulls them away from his face. Pity was the last thing he wanted from you.

"I'm not asking your your pity," his voice is hoarse, strained. "I just…have nowhere else to go."

And it takes seconds. You don't pity him. You couldn't, ever. You convince him. Your words bleed into each other until you are sure be believes you. His heart under your unsteady finger tips to prove a point.

Hyunjin still is cigarette ash and narcissism. Just in a more broken sort of way. He is a water colour painting that bleeds. And at 7:32, September the 13th, when his hands are wound around your waist and his lips are on yours for the second time, Hwang Hyunjin is the freest man he has ever been.

A/N: inspired by this song called Japan by Wallice. About everytime being vulnerable would make you feel better.

#stray kids angst #bang chan #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #skz #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz fanfic #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #stray kids fanfiction #skz x you

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study-coffee-chicago · 2 years

Text

The Lake (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister imagine)

A/N: As always, thank you for reading, and don't forget to reblog and comment!

Also tagging @allthosedarlings for the #HalloweenSpooktacularFanfictionBingo2022. I know it’s not a woodland, it’s a pond, but there’s trees and fall themes involved. Sort of a dark academia vibe (at least that’s what I listened to when I wrote this). So, hopefully it still counts as the woodland category.

Anyway, enjoy!

"We going to the lake today?" you asked excitedly when Jay put a waffle on your plate.

Today was Saturday. Last night Kim came over and watched you while Jay and Will went out. They weren't going to tell you, but it was your dad's birthday last night. Since you were only three and a half when he died, you didn't really remember him that much. Sure, you'd ask where he was from time to time after he first died and asked why you were always with Jay or Will, but that was it. Of course, you cried at the funeral, but that was because you were confused and scared for your dad. Why were they putting him in the ground?

Jay had promised that the two of you would go to the lake near your house today and get some pretty leaves to do leaf rubbing with. And, you were going to hold them to that.

"How long until you tell her it's actually a pond?" Will asked.

"It's a body of water, isn't it?" Jay shot back. "And, we'll leave after you eat and get ready," he answered. You reached for the syrup and he quickly grabbed it. "I'll do it. We don't want a repeat of last Saturday."

"What happened last week?" Will asked.

"Someone tipped over the syrup bottle," Jay answered as he finished putting syrup on your waffles and then quickly closed the bottle.

"It was so sticky!" you exclaimed.

"I bet," Will agreed with a laugh. Then, he looked at Jay. "Bet you had a great time cleaning that up, didn't you?"

"Don't even start with me or I'll make you do her hair."

Will put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Okay, okay. Need help cutting your waffles, kiddo?"

"Yes, please," you answered.

Will took your plate from in front of you and quickly cut up your waffles as Jay put three on a plate for himself.

"You want some, man?" he asked.

"Nah, I'm good. I ate before I came. Grabbed one of those bagel sandwiches that you always go crazy for."

"And you didn't bring me one? I'm offended."

Will rolled his eyes. "Do you have any coffee?"

"What kind of a dog do you think I am?" Will just shrugged in response to Jay's question. "It's on the counter. Knock yourself out."

***

"You said I can carry all the leafs!" you told Jay when the two of you got to the pond.

"I did, but I have to get some stuff out of the truck first. And, it's leaves, with a v."

"V-v-v V," you said, saying the letter's sound.

"Right. Leaves," Jay repeated, drawing out the V sound.

"Leaf- Leaves," you repeated with some trouble.

"Good job!" Jay exclaimed and then crouched down to give you a high five.

"Unless you're talking about the hockey team, then it's still--"

"Don't confuse her!" Jay scolded.

You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration--which almost always made Jay have to hold back his laughter--and looked at your oldest brother. "Huh?"

"Will's just being silly," Jay told you. "Now, take your sweatshirt just in case you get cold, okay?"

He held your red sweatshirt out to you and you took it and tied it around your waist like Jay and Will had taught you.

"You're such a mom, you know that?" Will said to Jay.

"Well someone has to be, because it's definitely not you," Jay shot back.

Jay rolled his eyes and then threw the water bottles and a few snacks into the backpack he had brought with him. He closed the truck doors and locked them and then turned to you.

"Alright, let's go!"

***

Your bag was practically full of brightly colored fall leaves within an hour. You were convinced each one was prettier than the last, but Will and Jay were convinced you were just picking up the first ones that you saw on the ground.

You had made it around the pond three times now, and you didn't think there were any more pretty leaves left!

"Can we go on the grass now?" you asked.

"Yup," Jay said.

"And feed the duckies?" you asked.

"Not today."

"But why not?" you pouted.

"How many duckies are there?"

You looked out at the pond. There was only one big one walking at the edge of it. "Oh. Where are they? Did they go bye-bye?"

"Yeah," Jay answered.

"Why?"

Jay looked to Will for help explaining science concepts to a kindergartener.

"You know when it gets cold and me and Jay tell you to stay inside and if you go outside to put on a coat?"

"And my mittens?" you asked.

Will smiled. "And your mittens. Exactly. Well, the ducks don't have all the big coats, so they have to fly somewhere warmer."

"Oh. They come back?"

"Yes, they'll come back near your birthday."

"And then we feed the duckies?" you asked hopefully.

"And then we feed the duckies," Will confirmed.

"What about the big one?" you asked and pointed to the goose near the edge of the pond.

"That's a goose," Jay answered bluntly.

"That's what bit Jay Jay!" you exclaimed.

"How did she...?" Will trailed off.

"In one of her books I sometimes read her before bed, there's a goose and she likes to remind me every time that one bit me," Jay explained.

"She wasn't even a thought in Mom and Dad's mind when that happened."

"She was never a thought in Mom and Dad's mind," Jay said, referring to the fact that you were an oopsie baby.

"True," Will agreed.

As the two of them were talking, you were busy looking for pretty leaves. And there was a really pretty red one a bit away from you next to a blonde girl sitting on the grass.

You took off running and Jay and Will didn't notice until you were next to her.

"Can I have this?" you asked and pointed to the leaf.

The girl looked up at you.

"Sure," she said.

"Thank you!"

Just as you were about to run back to Jay and Will, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground.

"Y/N, what did we say about talking to strangers?" Jay asked after you were securely in his arms.

"Not to," you answered. "But there was a really pretty leaf!"

"We understand that," Will began, "but next time, tell one of us so we can come with you."

"Okay. I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, sweetheart," Jay said. "Now, what do you say we leave the nice lady alone?"

"Okay." Then you turned your attention to the blonde woman. "Thank you for the leaf!"

"You're very welcome," she answered.

Jay was still holding you as he, you, and Will started walking back. With the way you were being held, you were looking behind Will and Jay, so you were still looking at the mystery girl.

Then, you saw something.

"Jay Jay!" you exclaimed, causing both Jay and Will to stop in their tracks (and Jay to wince at your loud voice in his ear). "She has a badge just like you! You know her?"

Jay scanned the scene once more, this time more carefully. Sure enough, there was a badge sticking out from under her shirt, clipped onto her dark wash jeans.

"I don't think so," Jay answered. "Remember what I told you, there are lots of different units."

"And units are like my classes. There's different ones like math and reading!" you answered.

"That's right," he confirmed.

"Wow, Jay. Didn't know you'd be able to explain it so easily that Y/N would be able to understand it," Will quipped.

Jay resisted the urge to whack Will on the arm with his free hand.

"You go talk to her," you told Jay.

Jay stared down at you with an incredulous look on his face. "Me? Why?"

"Because you said to make friends. Don't you make friends, Jay Jay?"

"Yeah, Jay, go make friends," Will agreed with a smirk.

Jay just sighed and rolled his eyes and handed you over to Will. He didn't need you chasing after him and telling this girl all his secrets.

"She is hot," Will whispered when Jay handed you over to him.

And to that, Jay just replied by scratching his face with his middle finger up. That way, you wouldn't see it and ask questions, but he knew for a fact that Will had seen it.

Then, he walked off toward this mystery woman who you had pointed out was a cop.

"Hey," Jay said when he got closer to her. She turned around. "I just wanted to apologize one more time for my little sister. She typically doesn't run off like that."

She set down her pencil and then waved her hand. "No big deal. Like I said, I didn't need the leaf." She smiled.

"She uh, she also saw your badge and told me I should talk to you."

This, got her attention and she stood up. "You a felon or something?"

"No, god no! Far from it actually." Jay lifted his shirt slightly to reveal his badge. Then, he put it back down and stuck out his hand. "Detective Jay Halstead, Intelligence Unit."

She smiled and shook his hand. "Detective Hailey Upton, Robbery Homicide."

"So, do you come here often?" Then, he looked down and shook his head, and chuckled to himself. "I'm sorry. I say really stupid things when beautiful women talk to me."

Hailey laughed, but only because she was slightly uncomfortable. "I bet that line works with a lot of girls, huh?"

"What? No! I've never used that as a pickup line."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now." Then, she sat back down and picked up her pencil and canvas. "Maybe I'll work a case with you one day, though."

"Yeah, maybe. Have a good day, Detective Upton."

"You too, Detective Halstead."

***

"You make a new friend?" you asked sweetly as you dumped your leaves out on the kitchen table, which Jay and Will had covered with trash bags.

"Yeah, Jay," Will laughed. "Did you make a new friend?"

"Uh, yeah," Jay lied to you. He couldn't exactly explain the intricacies of pick-up lines and how women have to constantly be wary of their surroundings to a six-year-old. "Me and Hailey are friends. He mouthed later to Will and then quickly changed the subject and set down a big box of crayons on the table. "What color should I do? Do you want to pick my colors for me?"

Your face lit up. "Yes!" You excitedly grabbed the box of crayons and started pulling out colors and explaining your decisions as you went. "Green because it's your favorite color...purple because it's pretty...and orange because leafs are orange!"

"Leaves," Will corrected.

"Leafs."

"Leaves."

"You know what, Y/N," Jay quickly interjected. "I think you should pick out Will's colors, too."

"Okay!"

***

A few weeks later

Jay was interrupted from listening to Voight when he heard a voice. He knew that voice...But who was it? It was vaguely familiar.

"I need you outside to move the yellow tape back fifty yards, and roll in the crime lab."

It was the woman you had told him to make friends with.

Hailey turned back to Voight. "Detective Upton. Robbery homicide."

"Hank Voight, Intelligence," Voight answered.

"Well, I appreciate the help, sergeant, but as of now, this is my scene."

"My team saved a woman's life and recovered evidence. We're running point," Voight told Hailey.

"And I've been tracking this crew for three weeks."

"Then explain to me why we got to the scene first."

"I'm from robbery homicide. There's been a robbery and a homicide here. So I'd appreciate it if you vacated my crime scene."

"Who's your sergeant?"

Hailey shot Jay a look.

Jay knew what this felt like. To be tracking a crew and then not see it through. He wondered what would've happened a year ago with Derek Keyes if his team wasn't on it.

"I know her. She's good police," Jay said.

"You should've led with that Halstead. How do you know her?" Voight asked.

"Met on a case in my patrol days. Stayed in touch," he lied.

"And you vouch for her?"

"I already told you, she's good police."

"Okay, I'll talk to your sergeant. See if we can have you on the case. You've got the background information on this crew and we might need you," Voight said to Hailey. "But you let us run point, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

***

"Molly's?" Ruzek asked Jay as he packed up his stuff after they had caught the bank robbery crew.

Jay looked at his watch. It was 6:00. "Not tonight. If I leave now, I can still do bedtime with Y/N. Haven't been able to do that in two days since we got this case."

"Go be with her. She's a cute kid, Jay."

Jay laughed. "Not when she doesn't get to bed on time. Then she's a little demon."

Adam laughed and shook his head. "Upton, you in? Comin' to Molly's with us?"

"No, sorry, guys. I've gotta go fill in my sergeant tomorrow morning. So, I have to double-check my paperwork. I'll be here another half hour probably."

"Alright, suit yourself."

The rest of the team—minus Voight—walked downstairs, leaving the bullpen to just Jay and Hailey.

"Need help on that paperwork?" Jay asked.

Hailey waved her hand. "No, go home, Jay. Go see Y/N." Then, she had a thought. And she knew if she didn't say in now, she'd chicken out in a few seconds. "If you want, I can grab some beer after I'm done and stop over?"

Jay smiled. "That sounds great...if you don't mind reading a few bedtime stories to Y/N with me. And, uh, she thinks we're friends by the way."

"I don't mind. And, uh, after the case, I wouldn't say she's wrong. About the friend thing."

"I'll text you my address. See you soon...friend."

"You, too, friend," Hailey agreed.

Then, Jay left the bullpen and Hailey went back to checking over her paperwork.

***

"Jay Jay!" you exclaimed and jumped off your chair where you were eating dinner when you saw Jay walk inside.

"Hey, kiddo!" He quickly dropped his duffle bag and crouched down to your height, allowing you to give him a hug.

You pulled away. "I missed you this much!" Then, you spread your arms as far as they could go.

"Oh yeah? Well, I missed you this much!" He spread his arms out as well.

"You win! But it's just be- because you are bigger then me."

"Than," Jay corrected.

"Then."

Th-an," he repeated.

"The- than."

"Good job! Now, can you go finish your food so I can talk to Stacy?"

"Uh-huh."

You went back over and started eating dinner while your babysitter, Stacy, told Jay about how you were good for her that day and that you two worked on reading and she helped you with some math--which you didn't like and struggled with your addition problems--and then that the two of you did more leaf rubbings and started to play tea party with your stuffed animals. And then dinner was ready and now Jay was home.

Jay reached up to the top cupboard and took out a box of cookies with pink frosting. Then, he walked over to the table.

"I think that since you were such a good girl today with Stacy, you can have this." He set the cookie on the napkin next to your plate and you quickly reached for it. "Nope. Finish your dinner first."

You huffed and crossed your arms.

"Hey, now. You're almost done."

"You eat, too?" you asked.

"I'll eat, too," Jay confirmed and scooped some spaghetti onto his plate and then some broccoli and put it in the microwave. Once that was finished he came back to the table and sat down across from you with his plate of food.

"You gotta eat all your broccolis," you told him sternly, which caused Jay to chuckle silently to himself and then take a bite of his broccoli. "You gotta eat all- all of them. Because you are bigger then me."

Jay resisted the urge to correct you once again on how it was than and not then. "Who told you that?" he asked instead.

"Will telled me."

"It's told," he corrected. "Will told me."

"Oh." You paused. "Why?"

"It just...it just is told. When did Will tell you that I have to eat more than you because I'm bigger, hmmm?"

"I ask-ed him why grown-ups eat vege-tables because he was eating lots of salad. And he telled me it's because grown-ups need lots and lots of veggies to grow big and strong."

Jay figured that was enough grammar lessons for today. Anyway, you'd learn with time as all kids did.

"He's right! We do need lots of veggies to grow big and strong, but so do you."

"Big and strong like you!"

"That's right! Big and strong like me, kiddo. Now, eat your food before it gets cold, okay?"

"And then I can have my cookie?" you asked excitedly.

Jay smiled. "And then you can have your cookie."

***

"What story are we reading tonight?" Jay asked. Hailey had texted him half an hour ago to say that she was leaving the district, and he asked if she could wait half an hour before she came over here so that he could do bath time and get you in your pajamas.

"A fall one!" you told him.

"A fall one. Did you learn about fall today in school?" Jay asked.

You nodded. "Uh-huh. We learned about the seasons in science! There's fall, winter, spring, and summer! And we learn how the birdies go to warm places when it's winter here because- because it's cold!"

"Wow! You're learning so much! You might be smarter than me!"

You laughed. "I'm not smarter than you, Jay Jay! I'm only six!" Then, the doorbell rang. "Is Will here? Or Kim and Adam?" Kim would sometimes come babysit you when Jay had to leave and Stacy couldn't babysit you. And sometimes she would bring Adam and Adam would always bring you a treat like a pint of ice cream that he'd share with you or a fancy cupcake.

"It's not them," Jay answered.

"Then who is it?" you asked and looked at him curiously as he stood up.

"Come with me and find out," he told you and reached out his hand and you took it. The doorbell rang once more. "Coming!" he yelled out. But, he had to walk slower so that you could keep up with him.

Jay made a show of looking through the peephole to set an example for you and then opened the door.

"Hey, Hailey," he said. "C'mon in."

"You from the lake!" you exclaimed. "You Jay Jay's friend!"

Hailey laughed. "I am!" She crouched down to your height. "I'm Hailey. And you must be Y/N."

"Yeah! How you know my name?"

"I told her, kiddo," Jay said. "She works with me. Remember how she has a badge, too?"

"Uh-huh. Do I still gotta go to bed?"

Maybe since there was someone else you stay up late!

"Yeah, you do, kiddo." You opened your mouth to protest, but Jay beat you to it. "But, we can read two books tonight. Do you want Hailey to read them to you, too?"

"Hailey and you!"

"Hailey and me, okay."

"C'mon!" Then, you ran ahead of Hailey and Jay toward your room to pick out your books.

***

After reading you Pinkalicious: Apples, Apples, Apples and It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, and then tucking you in, Jay and Hailey were sitting on the couch, each drinking a beer.

"She's a cute kid," Hailey said.

"She really is. She's not cute when she throws a temper tantrum when she doesn't get her way, though," Jay said.

"Oh, I bet."

The two fell into comfortable silence until Jay finally broke it.

"Why'd you want to come over here?"

"To celebrate a bust." Hailey shrugged.

"You and I both know there's more to it than that, Hailey."

She sighed. "Why'd you back me?"

"What?"

"That's why I came over. I wanted to know why you vouched for me with Voight. We only met that one time at the pond. Why'd you vouch for me?"

Now it was Jay's turn to shrug. "Gut feeling I guess."

Hailey raised an eyebrow. "Gut feeling?"

"Yeah. I'm a detective. I trust my instincts. Same as you do."

"That's it?"

"That and I figured you should get to see it through since you'd been the one tracking the crew for three weeks."

"Okay then." She raised her beer. "To gut feelings."

"To gut feelings," Jay agreed and raised his beer.

***

Ten Years Later

Jay grumbled when he felt Hailey getting up from the couch where she was lying against him. (He was half asleep.)

"Where you going?" he yawned. "Tomorrow's our RDO."

"I know. Just gonna go make some tea, babe. Go back to sleep," she told her husband gently.

"Mhm, okay," he mumbled and closed his eyes again.

Hailey made her way to the kitchen, but instead of pulling out tea bags, she pulled out packets of hot chocolate. She filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove, waiting for it to finish. Then, she pulled her phone out of the pocket of her hoodie.

Making hot chocolate. T-minus ten mins. Jay's in and out on the couch. DON'T COME OUT. I'LL COME TO YOU she texted.

Your phone dinged in your hand and you threw your covers off of you. You quickly texted Hailey a thumbs-up emoji. Then, you slowly got out of bed and turned on the fairy lights above your bed, and then you fixed your bed and laid your throw blankets out nicely.

You then went to your closet and grabbed the bag of snacks you had hidden there last night.

You set them on your bed and waited for Hailey while checking the time.

11:54.

Six minutes until Taylor Swift's new album dropped...well, it was as long as two albums. They could be bought separately, but you and Hailey bought the combination album since you were such huge fans.

She was the one who introduced you to Taylor Swift when you were eight years old. The two of you had danced around the living room singing Love Story and then for Christmas, you had asked for her new Speak Now album.

A year later, when you were nine, Jay proposed to Hailey after two years of dating. (They had been working together and had known each other for three years at that point.)

Two minutes later, at 11:56, Hailey entered your room, carrying a tray that held her laptop and two cups of hot chocolate complete with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle on top.

"Oooh, fancy," you said as she handed you a mug of hot chocolate.

"Thank you," she said and took a seat next to you up against one of your pillows.

Then, she set her mug on one of your bedside tables and opened her laptop.

"Snacks are in the bag," you told her. "I grabbed them yesterday after school because I can't let Jay know we're doing this. He'd kill me for being up until 2 am on a school night."

"He'd kill me for allowing it!" Hailey joked as she pulled up Spotify.

"He loves you! He wouldn't kill you!"

"Well, in that case, he wouldn't kill you either. He'd probably just ground you. But, he's asleep on the couch, so hopefully, he'll stay that way."

"Hopefully."

11:59.

"One minute!" you exclaimed.

"I'm so excited!" She opened a candy bar and you opened a bag of chips.

A minute later, Hailey refreshed her Spotify and clicked on the album.

And then, the 1 floated through her laptop speakers.

***

"The Lakes is like our pond!" you exclaimed after the song was over.

"Shhh!" Hailey hissed. Do you want Jay to wake up?"

Then, there was a knock at your bedroom door.

"Shit, shit, shit. Jay's up. He's gonna kill me."

The door opened. "You are so right, young lady. You are not skipping school tomorrow, so I'd recommend you go bed now— wait. Hailey?"

Hailey stood up from your bed and walked over to Jay. "Babe, Taylor Swift's new album came out tonight. She's got study hall for first class, maybe she could just skip it?"

This was the first time you were hearing about that.

"Absolutely not. It was your choice to—"

"Please, Jay," you pleaded. If Hailey backed you on this, you had some leverage. It wasn't much, but it was something. "I finished all my homework, I don't have any teachers I need to meet with. I'd literally just be watching Netflix or YouTube for over an hour. Please can I miss it? Please?"

Jay sighed. "Show me your planner. So I can make sure you aren't lying to me."

You grabbed your backpack and handed the entire thing to him. "You can go through all of it if you want."

And he did. He went through your entire backpack...and wasn't above reading the crumpled-up notes you had shoved in there.

"I better not see any detention slips in here," Jay warned.

"You won't." All that was at the bottom were sticky notes with things you needed to remember...and then you never took them out.

Once Jay was thoroughly done searching your bag, he leaned against the wall and took a long look at Hailey. "You agreed to this?"

"Well, yeah," Hailey said. "If I didn't, I'd be in bed right now."

"So, that tea you were gonna make, I'm assuming it was for you and Y/N?"

"It was hot chocolate, but yeah."

Jay looked down at laughed.

You looked at Hailey and then back at Jay. You didn't see what was funny in you maybe having to go to school on little sleep...and possibly being grounded. But, Jay hadn't mentioned the g-word yet, so you might be okay on that front.

"What?" you asked.

"You two," Jay started, "are going to be the death of me. How much longer do you two have on the album?"

Hailey scrolled through the tracklist. "Fifteen, twenty minutes."

Jay nodded and then looked at you sternly. "When I come check on you in half an hour, you better be laying in bed. I better not see you on your phone. If I see you scrolling through your phone, you are going to your first class. Got me?"

"Only if you see me, got it," you said and Hailey whacked you gently on the shoulder.

"I can take back the deal. Make you get up in, what is it? Five-ish hours?"

"No!" you exclaimed. "After the album's done, I'll go to bed! No phone except to set my alarm, I promise!"

"Good." Then he pointed to your empty mugs. "You two done with those?"

"Yeah," Hailey answered. "Thanks, babe."

Jay picked up the mugs and then left the room.

"Hopefully the next time an album comes out, you'll be in college," Hailey said.

"Why? So that I can skip my morning classes?"

"No, so that you can have some energy drinks on deck."

"I heard that, you two!" Jay yelled from down the hallway.

You grimaced and then hit play on Hailey's laptop. You were not going to risk your extra sleep the one time Jay actually gave in to you.

***

"You're up early," Jay remarked the next morning when he was drinking coffee and saw Hailey walk out of their bedroom.

"Perks of having insomnia, I guess. When I don't get enough sleep, it's almost like a normal day for me."

Jay frowned. "I'm sorry, Hails."

She waved her hand and then reached into the cabinet for a mug. "Don't be sorry. When I went the bed after we listened to the album, I went straight to sleep. I actually slept good for the amount of time I slept."

"Well, I guess that's good."

Hailey poured her coffee and then sat down. She was just about to enjoy a peaceful fifteen minutes with her husband by chatting and drinking coffee when both of their phones buzzed.

"Voight," Hailey said. "Says we got called in. Doesn't say much except for the location. River in Cicero and that the victim was a teenage girl."

Jay wiped a hand down his face. He hated these cases. They always reminded him that life was short and you could be ripped out of his and Will's lives in an instant.

Hailey placed a hand on Jay's shoulder. "I know. But, what does Voight always say? These are the cases that need to be solved."

"Yeah," Jay confirmed. "That's it. I, um, I'm gonna go check on Y/N. You can have the bathroom first."

***

Fifteen minutes later, Jay was making Hailey a bagel to eat on their way to the district and Hailey was just stepping out of the shower when Jay's phone binged. He picked it up. It was an email from your school.

He had called you in as absent for the first class ten minutes ago, stating you had an appointment--they didn't need to know it was an appointment with your bed--so it couldn't have been that. Plus, the school day didn't start for another twenty minutes, so attendance hadn't even been taken.

When he read the subject line of the email, though, his heart dropped.

Urgent news regarding a student.

He opened his email.

It is with great sadness that I write this email. I have just been told that one of our students has tragically passed away. At this time, I cannot release the student's name or cause of death. But, if your son or daughter needs to take the day off, for this reason, it will not be counted as an unexcused absence. If your son or daughter needs to talk to someone, we will have grief counselors at the school for the rest of the week.

Scott Falure, principal.

"Jay?" Hailey asked gently. She walked over to him dressed in her work clothes, her hair wrapped in a towel. She placed a hand on his lower back. "Jay? You okay?"

Jay set his phone down next to the bagel that he had never finished spreading cream cheese on for Hailey.

"I just got an email from Y/N's school. It says a kid tragically passed away."

"Did they give a name?" Hailey asked.

Jay shook his head. "Here. You can read the email."

Her eyes scanned the screen and her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she started piecing together information.

"You don't think this could be related to the case we got called in on, do you?"

Jay would be lying if he said it hadn't crossed his mind the minute he saw the subject line.

"God, I hope not. Voight didn't send more info, did he?" Maybe he missed the notification when he was reading the email.

Hailey shook her head. "No. All we have is a teenage girl and to go to the address which is on a river in Cicero."

"Alright. Uh, so Y/N. What do you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do we just send her to school? Let her walk into this blind?"

"I dunno, Jay. It's probably what most of the kids are doing this morning. And, we don't even know what kid it was. It's probably not even related to the case, forget I even mentioned that. Could've been a freak accident, alcohol poisoning, cancer. They didn't release who it is, so she might not even know this girl. Y/N's a junior and for all we know, this girl could be a freshman. I say we have her go, and if she texts or calls you, go get her."

"Okay," Jay practically whispered. "I love you, you know that?"

"I love you, too." He leaned in for a kiss, but Hailey pushed him away. "I just brushed my teeth and we both know you have horrible morning breath, mister!"

Jay rolled his eyes, changed directions, and kissed her on the cheek. "Guess you don't want that bagel then?"

"I'll eat it at the district...and I'll put more cream cheese on it."

"Of course, you will. I'm gonna go brush my teeth. We'll leave in fifteen minutes tops."

Jay and Hailey didn't know how they did it. They went from talking about murder and tragic deaths of children to joking about morning breath. It came with the territory of their jobs, but they'd be lying if it scared them sometimes. That was one thing one of them never wanted, to become desensitized to the violence they witnessed every day.

***

"Sarah Owens," Voight said once everyone was at the crime scene. "Seventeen. A junior at Central Chicago High School. Techs say COD was blood loss due to stab wounds."

Jay and Hailey looked at the body. She had no clothes on.

Jay closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he asked, "Before or after?"

"Before," Voight answered.

Jay sighed. This girl's last few hours of life were spent in fear.

"You said she was a junior?" Jay asked.

"Yeah."

"Y/N might know her."

"She doesn't need to be brought down for any questions unless we find something, Jay."

"I know. I know that. I just need you to know that if she calls me and she needs to come home--"

"You're free to leave," Voight cut him off. "If she knows this girl, well, this was a hell of a way to die."

***

It wasn't a normal school day. Far from it actually. You walked into school to students crying. When you went to sign yourself in and said your brother called, the secretary told you that there was grief counseling available for you if you needed it. You asked what she was talking about and she pulled you aside and explained the situation.

Sarah Owens was dead.

You didn't know the girl well, but you currently had two classes with her. You had been on the cross country team with her your freshman year (the one and only year you ran cross country). She was always a nice girl, a little boy crazy maybe, but she was never mean to you.

Why was the world so cruel to those that were good?

***

The day passed in a blur. You had cried because despite not knowing her that well, you knew her well enough to cry over her. You didn't eat much lunch due to the crying and the pit in your stomach. There were rumors that she had been murdered and raped. There were also rumors that she killed herself, that she went skinny dipping and jumped off a rock and hit her head, and was dead on impact. You didn't know what to believe and everything was making your head spin.

You drove to the district with puffy eyes and nausea ravaging your body.

"Buzz me up?" you asked Trudy when you walked in.

She nodded sadly. "Give me a second." She picked up the phone and called upstairs. "Hey, just a heads up, Y/N's here. Do with that what you will."

She waited a few seconds for whatever member of Intelligence was on the other side to respond and then hung up the phone and hit the button to unlock the gate.

You walked upstairs and immediately saw Jay standing there with a sad expression on his face.

You didn't say anything and just ran up to him as the tears started to stream down your face once more.

He enveloped you in a hug, despite your backpack making it hard for him to hug you.

"She- she's dead! I- I didn't know her that well, but I still knew her and- and--" You cut yourself off by bursting into another round of sobs.

"I know, I know. Let's go in the break room."

You pulled away from him and he led you into the break room with a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You shrugged off your backpack and collapsed onto the couch and put your head in your hands. "I shouldn't- I shouldn't even be this sad! I didn't even know- know her th-that well!"

"No," Jay told you. "You can feel what you want to feel. It was sudden...and horrible."

You looked up at him with tears still running down your face. "How do you know it was horrible?"

He figured the news was already out to the family, so it wouldn't be a problem telling you because the family knew so they were telling people. And, on the news tonight, it would just say that Sarah was murdered, nothing about a suspect. They couldn't let whoever did this to her know that they were after him.

"Y/N... Sarah, she was... she was murdered."

"What?"

Jay crouched down in front of you and grabbed your hand.

"Sarah Owens was murdered. I'm sorry, Y/N."

"Do- Do you know who did it?"

"No, not yet. But, if you know anything about her that you wanna tell me, it would help."

You nodded. "She was nice. Always did her- her homework. She drank sometimes, but that's just normal high school shit. She was boy crazy."

Jay wasn't gonna yell at you for swearing or tell you that you better not be drinking and that it shouldn't be normal for you.

"Can you tell me what you mean by boy crazy?" She was raped, so this might help them figure out if she knew the perp.

"She was always going to college parties. Would come to school hung over with a couple of hickeys on her neck that she always tried to hide. But that was it. She'd never mention much except that she was hung over. She wasn't a bad kid, Jay."

"I know, I know. And I'm not saying she is. This information is helpful. Thank you." He paused. "Now, have you eaten anything?" You shook your head. "Okay, well, if you want to stay here and take a nap so that you're not alone, I can go get you a blanket."

You nodded. "Please."

***

A few days had passed now and it was Friday. You were beginning to come to terms with what happened, but Jay was still taking necessary precautions and having you come to the district after school. He and the rest of the team had left about twenty minutes ago for something. You assumed it had something to do with the current case because whenever you came out of the breakroom, the team was walking on eggshells around you.

And, you were getting curious. You were in the same grade as Sarah, so maybe there was a commonality to be had. You knew you only had a limited amount of time before Intelligence came back, so you needed to make this quick.

You walked over to Jay's desk and flipped open the case file. There was another victim under Sarah Owens' picture. It was also a high school girl, this time a sophomore, and her body was also found in a river.

You looked at the sticky notes covering the inside cover of the file folder. They looked like they were notes on how the girls could've been connected, no doubt quickly scribbled down when Jay was on a phone call and couldn't get the attention of the team.

One caught your eye.

It was a dating app, along with what looked to be both of the murdered girls' usernames underneath.

You quickly snapped a picture of the sticky note and then went back into the breakroom.

Then, you put the name of the dating app in the app store and quickly made an account.

After spending a few minutes comparing who the girls were following, you thought you had finally found the match.

You screenshotted this as well and then made your profile.

You weren't stupid enough to put your picture up, so you just used a stock photo and put in some "fun facts" about yourself, which were super generic.

-Likes hockey

-Likes bad boys

The next part you typed made your skin crawl, but you did it anyway.

-18 and looking for a good time

Then, you added a winky face emoji for good measure.

Now, you just waited for the weirdos to roll in. And, if he didn't slide into your DMs by the time you went to bed tonight, then you'd just have to slide into his.

***

24 hours later

This dude moved fast. You hadn't really thought much of this through, but when he asked for a place to meet, you knew you needed to act. And you had to do so with no hesitation or else it would look suspicious.

So, you suggested a body of water near your house.

If this guy was the one, he wouldn't have a problem with it being cold out.

Meet me in two hours he messaged.

You figured by then Jay and Hailey might be home since they were stuck working the case, so it needed to be sooner than that.

How's an hour sound? you asked.

An hour's even better.

See you then.

Then, you shut down your phone and started getting ready. You also shoved a switchblade in your boot that Jay had gotten you in case of emergencies and put pepper spray in your sports bra.

Once you were ready, you scribbled a message on a sticky note and put it on the counter for Jay and Hailey.

Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die.

~Y/N.

And then, you left.

***

"You ready to get out of here?" Hailey asked Jay.

"Oh, 100%."

They got up and put their coats on and Adam mentioned Molly's, and Hailey left the decision up to Jay. She knew how much these cases affected him.

"I'd rather be at home. With what this case is and Y/N and all."

"Understandable," Adam said. "Tell Y/N her favorite uncle says hi."

Jay rolled his eyes. "You are not her uncle, Adam."

"Whatever. Me, Kim, and Kev are going to Molly's to go make some bad decisions."

Just then, the gate buzzed and Trudy walked upstairs.

"I just got word from patrol that they pulled over your suspect for a traffic violation...and with the warrant, he's headed here now."

"Want us to stay, Sarge?" Jay asked.

"No, no," Voight said. "You guys go ahead. Me and Trudy will handle this one."

Jay knew enough to not ask questions, so then he and Hailey left the bullpen and the district and headed home.

***

"Weird," Jay remarked. "Y/N's car's not here."

"Jay, Arby's closes at 1:00. It's 12:30. She's probably there," Hailey said.

"You're right, you're right. But, with this case going on, I'm gonna go drive around."

"Jay--"

"Hailey, please. I'll be back in fifteen minutes tops. Earlier if she shows up here. If she shows up, just call me and I'll come back here and you can make fun of me about being overprotective all night."

"Fine. Go."

***

Half an hour had passed and Jay and Hailey were frantically trying to figure out where you were.

"Maybe she went to a party," Hailey suggested. "Normal, teenager things."

"Not with this going on. Hailey, she might be a teenager, but she's smarter than this." He walked up to the kitchen counter and leaned his elbows on it. He was deep in thought, but something caught his eye.

It was one of your sticky notes.

Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die.

~Y/N.

"Hailey, call Voight now," Jay ordered.

"Why?" Hailey asked and then was at his side with her phone out.

"I think she's gonna die."

"What?"

Tears were now clouding Jay's vision. "She- She left this note, Hails."

He handed it to her and Hailey read it.

A lightbulb went off in her head.

"I know where she is."

"You do?"

"The other day when we were listening to that Taylor Swift album, she mentioned that the song The Lakes reminded her of the pond. That's a lyric from the song. She's at the pond, Jay."

Just then, Jay's phone rang. It was Voight.

"Let's go," Jay said and tossed his keys to Hailey, and then answered his phone.

"Sarge--"

"Halstead, shut up and listen. We got this guy to cop to the murders, but he said he was talking to another girl. Tech got into his phone and the email address linked to the account is your sister's. Is she at home?"

"No," Jay answered. "But me and Hailey have an idea where she might've gone. He's still in custody, right?"

"We got him. He'll be locked up for a long time. If you need any help, call me."

"Copy that."

***

You were starting to get anxious at this point. The dude hadn't shown up yet and it felt like a lot longer than an hour since you had contacted him. You were freezing and every noise you heard was making you jump.

You heard the noise of a car.

Then, you pulled out your phone and turned it back on.

Multiple missed calls from Jay and Hailey.

But, you didn't care right now. You'd get an earful from them over almost being murdered by the guy that was in that car.

You shoved your phone in your pocket and then started walking down the trail and then into the trees. It was better for you to be as far away from the parking lot as possible.

When you were far enough away that you felt like you were hidden but could still see the parking lot through the trees, you called Jay.

"Jay, I screwed up. I--"

"Y/N, we're at the pond. Are you there?" Jay asked without letting you finish.

"Yeah. Can- can you come get me. I'm- I'm scared, Jay. I was so stupid and--"

"Y/N, me and Hailey know what you did. Voight told us and we're here. The guy's in custody. Now, I'm gonna flash my lights at you and I need you to tell me if you can see them."

He flashed his brights. "Yeah."

"Can you tell me what direction they're coming from?"

"They're right across from me."

"Okay, good. Now, I want you to turn on your flashlight on your phone, and me and Hailey are gonna come to you, okay? Don't move."

"Okay. But, can you stay on the phone? Please?"

"Of course. Just stay where you are. We'll be there in a few minutes."

Not even two minutes later, you saw Jay and Hailey walking towards you from the light of Hailey's flashlight. You knew Jay had told you to stay put, but you couldn't. You took off running towards him.

Jay quickly pocketed his phone and jogged up to you and you crashed into him with full force and wrapped your arms around him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I thought I'd help you so I looked at case notes and--"

"It's okay, it's okay," Jay soothed. "You're right it was stupid, so stupid. But, I'm just glad you're okay. We caught the guy and he's at the 21st." He pulled away. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

You shook your head. "Just cold."

Jay immediately took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

"Okay, but we're still going over to Will's apartment and he's gonna check you out, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed.

"Y/N, next time you have an idea like this, just tell us," Hailey said once the three of you were in the warmth of the truck. "We could've had an officer go under and done something like this without you putting yourself in danger."

"Or better yet, don't look at my case notes," Jay told you.

"Hey, she's your sister, Jay. She might be an amateur detective."

"Don't even speak that into existence, Hails."

The three of you made your way to Will's house with Jay periodically glancing in the rearview mirror at you in the backseat. It never hit him until later when you were safe in your bed and he couldn't go to sleep that you did something that he would do, no matter how stupid it was.

That next morning, you woke up to a sticky note next to your phone. Jay told you that he and Hailey had to go in and finish some paperwork, but that the three of you plus Will, would get brunch later.

He ended the note with this:

That lake was the start of mine and Hailey's love life, and I'm glad it wasn't the end of yours. Don't you ever do anything like that again!

Love,

Jay.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I had started writing this before the announcement about JLS leaving came out, so sorry if the ending seemed a little rushed. I just wanted to get it out to you guys! Anyway, please don't forget to reblog and comment! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

Taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @911ls-tarlos @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88 @glitterquadricorn @luvreading67 @smoothdogsgirl @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @actlikesummerr @lcothr523

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flowers-shouldnt-die · 8 months

Text

Tochter aus Elysium - part 1

My contribution to the teeny tiny Tissaia bang!

Prompt: That post about Tissaia getting pregnant but it’s Myanna’s birthday so it’s going to end on a happy note eventually.

TW: miscarriage scare, blood, depression and being completely broken. I also should add that I only pretend to speak english

Characters: Tissaia, Yennefer, Sabrina, basically most of the girls, and mentions of yours truly, Vilgefortz

Pairing: vague enough mention of past Tissaia/Vilgefortz and vague enough to be Yennaia

Hope you enjoy it<3

~~~

Elysia blew the sand from her hand and it turned into tiny butterflies in the wind. Their wings carried them higher and higher, until they disappeared between the trees. The young girl laughed in that special way only children could. Her voice still had the innocence and wonder people lost while growing up. She was still full of life and curiosity, her uncontainable energy clear as day as she ran around in the forest, yet mindful of never getting out of her mother’s sight. She was barely five years old and already just like…

“Just like you.” Tissaia turned to face Yennefer, her eyebrows arched instead of voicing her question. She didn’t notice when the young sorceress arrived and she had no idea how long she had been watching them. “She scolded the birds for being too loud. Already a little control freak.” She smirked, then added, “Although a sweet one.”

“In her defense, they were loud.” The brunette turned back to her daughter and let out a shaky breath. Yen followed her gaze, and smiled softly as she saw the little firecracker trying to reach for a mushroom that grew on a tree. It was just out of her reach and when even jumping couldn’t help, she called for her mother to help her. Tissaia picked her up and let her examine it but didn’t let her get it off of the tree’s trunk. The little girl made a disappointed face that was so much like her mother’s, Yennefer found it almost uncanny. So many things about them were uncanny, if she was honest with herself. But over the years, seeing the two of them so happy together made her forget about all the uneasy feelings she had, most of the time. There were still nights when she woke up in cold sweat, reliving the day when they all found out about Elysia.

The funeral just started and she wondered what took Tissaia so long to get down here. Then the flower petals started to fall and soon Yennefer was falling too, with a sharp pain coursing through her. There was no time to waste. She rushed back, praying for the first time in decades. She prayed for any god who’d listen, just please, please, let her get there in time. The sight that greeted her knocked the breath out of her: Tissaia lay motionless on the cold floor, a pool of blood glistened around her in the candlelight. She was searching for her pulse and cried in relief when she found it. But the blood was still warm and flowing, the light nightgown now darkened with its menacing presence. She asked her to wake up, to pull herself together, they had to get to a doctor. But Tissaia was still. It took a moment too long for Yen to realize she was catatonic.

With all the strength she could muster, she picked the smaller woman up and carried her to her bed. Desperately, she opened a telepathic channel and screamed for anyone who would listen. Preferably a healer. Moments that felt like eternity passed when the girls arrived. Thankfully, Marti was one of them and she wasted no time, examined her with the touch of an expert and began her incantations and spells. What followed was one of the biggest shock of their lives: Tissaia was with child. She very nearly wasn’t anymore, but they got here just in time.

The second shock came when Sabrina managed to ask “So is it his?” As if their former rectoress was sleeping around with everyone and not being in a committed relationship with him for years. The blonde quickly corrected herself when she saw her friend's looks, saying she was only hoping it wasn’t. That was fair enough. Yennefer couldn’t decide which revelation left her more baffled before she remembered what she learned only a few hours ago. It was Tissaia who made the sterilization mandatory, sorceresses could get pregnant back in her younger days. She never said she went through with it. A conflicting anger began to burn in her chest, hypocrite, the voice in the back of her mind whispered. But then she looked down at her, bruised, bloody and broken. Another kind of anger flared up - pure rage and a need for vengeance. Even if that fuckhead helped with the creation of this child, she would not let that cloud her mind. This was her baby, Tissaia’s baby and no one else’s. And Yennefer would do anything for them.

It was easier said than done. After the initial shock wore off and life went on, Tissaia was just a ghost compared to her former self. Yen was sure she only ate because of the growing baby inside her. She only went for a short walk because Marti suggested it would be beneficial - she had to insist that it was beneficial for the baby and it is not just a lie to get her to leave her room. The only time they could catch a small, unsure smile on the white haired woman’s lips was when she gingerly touched her growing belly, possibly feeling the small movements underneath her skin.

The world went into pure chaos, Aretuza was still in ruins and Tissaia wasn’t, no, couldn’t be sure of anything anymore. Except for the all consuming love she felt for her child. She thought she lost it forever, and when that happened, when she thought she finally lost everything, she let go of her will to live. If it weren’t for her friends she would probably be dead. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to talk to them, not after she failed all of them. Repeatedly. And now, to add insult to injury, she was carrying the child of the man who used and abused them and in the end, destroyed all of what mattered to them.

And despite all of this, she never felt a love so strong like the one she felt for her baby. Every little flutter it made, reminded her that she still had something to live for. As much as it hurt her to acknowledge who the father is she was determined to not let anyone treat her child as someone of his and not hers. Slowly, and with a lot of help, she found her way back to the land of the living. Although she made it clear she would resign her role, she was willing to stay as a friend to help her former students rebuild what was left of the Brotherhood. They understood for the most part, especially as time went on and her child kept growing in her.

The day she decided to enter the world was a blur of pain and blood. In the late morning hours she felt the first sensation of pain in her lower abdomen. She paid it no mind, it wasn’t unusual for her to feel uncomfortable during the late stages of her pregnancy. However, by noon she needed help to get back to her room. Tissaia never imagined her birthing experience would be witnessed by so many, but then again, she never imagined having one at all. All of her friends, who have truly become her family in the last few months, were there, supporting her.

When her water broke, it surprised her that it’s not only the water that comes out. Blood also poured from her and if it weren’t for her friends reassurance, she probably would have panicked. Minutes turned into hours and her baby refused to show its face to the world. Tissaia was screaming in the end as sweat glistened on her body. Her face was flushed and breathing became difficult amidst the jolts of pain. The sun disappeared a long time ago and she wondered if this was yet another of his cruel tricks on her. Their child was already as stubborn as he was and it terrified her.

The moment she felt her baby leave her body was a relief but despite the end of her torment, she felt oddly empty.

“It’s a girl!” Yennefer beamed with joy. It was a rare sight and Tissaia couldn’t take her eyes off of them, as she walked up to her with the baby safely wrapped in a blanket in her arms. When she finally held her daughter she couldn’t help the tears that escaped her eyes. The little girl had a shock of black hair and when she opened her eyes for a moment Tissaia’s breath got caught in her throat. The same eyes she had fallen for in every sense of the word looked back at her. Her sweet little baby girl had her father’s eyes and she felt this was his final act of twisting the knife in her heart. “She looks just like you!” Yen continued smiling like she never did before. Tissaia slowly shook her head but her raven haired friend insisted. “She has your face, your nose, her mimics already… she looks like you, Tissaia.”

She looked down at her daughter once more, and she had to admit, she saw some resemblance between them. The baby made a soft sound and she couldn’t help but smile. Her fear evaporated the longer she looked at the tiny bundle. She won’t let him take this moment away from her. She kissed the top of her newborn’s head and gently caressed her face. The love she felt for her while pregnant multiplied and in that moment, Tissaia de Vries never felt more at peace, more at home.

#tissaia #tissaia de vries #teenytinytissaiabang #my struggle with fanfics #witcher fanfiction #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #vilgefortz #vilgefortz of roggeveen #the witcher #the witcher netflix #vilgefortz x tissaia #vilgefortz/tissaia #elysia de vries

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kujo1597 · 2 months

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I’ve been watching my friend liveblog her rewatch of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (great show) and it looked really fun to do. And she’s also doing this to get into writing SPOP fanfics and as some of you may remember, I have a Jem fanfic called Unbreakable that I really do need to finish. So I figured I would blog my rewatch of Jem. I wanted to watch the show again to get my creative juices flowing and figured why not.

Because I know the show backwards and forwards due to watching it five or six times my posts will probably largely focus on the characters and traits they have that I incorporate into the writing. I’ll talk about Jerrica’s relationship with Rio and why it’s so dysfunctional and concerning.

I’m also going to be a fucking weirdo and keep track of the crying because a character trait of Kimber’s I find really interesting is how private she is with her tears compared to the others. But this will be kept in a folder of its own and I won’t dwell on it.

I won't be putting all of these into the fandom tag because I worry that I'll be deemed "too active" by Tumblr and my posts will stop showing up in the tag. So I guess if you're interested in keeping up with these keep track of the "Kujo Watches Jem" tag.

Man I love this show’s first intro song and the animation. It’s largely rotoscoped and looks really nice.

The show starts off with a look at Jem and The Holograms at a premiere and it’s a cool way of introducing the characters. They make it very clear who’s who.

Aja

Shana

I love how they just fukkin’ throw Kimber out of the car. This is a good time to mention that the animation in the first five episodes is pretty janky. They’re stitched together seven minutes shorts that were part of the Super Sunday block on whichever channel this aired on. So we’re kind of watching a proof of concept right now.

And of course they show Jem as this cool and mysterious woman as she shrugs off her sheer veil in front of a cheering crowd. Reporters ask Jem a bunch of questions.

Then we hear our protagonist, Jerrica, start narrating.

She tells us that her story begins after her father's unexpected death. And they establish later in the show that this funeral is on or around Jerrica's birthday. Which is really awful. I feel bad for her.

I remember Eric being kind of creepy at the funeral but always forget just how creepy he is. Especially because I’m fairly confident that at this point in production Jerrica is meant to be an older teen. Like, 17 or 18. I don’t blame Rio for dragging her off.

But oh man, let’s just add this to the “Jerrica apologizes for Rio count.” It’s a recurring thing.

Now we cut to a shot of Starlight House and the characters working to fix it up. This also has cool details like a design table, Shana is into fashion design as we’ll learn later.

Uh, I need to point out this bird cage. You’ll see why later. But I need to point it out.

I wonder how long Ashley’s been living here for. Because she comments on the house being a dump as if she’s just moved in. Also she broke that chair. She tried to flop onto it but it broke.

Now we meet Mrs. Bailey who helps take care of the kids. Nice lady. She informs Jerrica that her dad, Emmett, would get money to fund the Starlight House’s upkeep from his music company. So Jerrica goes over to the office. She sees a new receptionist, walks past her and enters her dad's old office.

Eric continues to call Jerrica “darling” and talks about how he’s hired a new band called The Misfits. And they ride in on these extremely toyetic motorcycles. I don’t think they ever did get released though. But man, this screams “toy commercial show.” Jem is way more than just that though.

We get the first song of the series and it’s great. Fun imagery. And it’s funny seeing them play their instruments because Stormer is playing this weird boomerang guitar. I seriously do wonder when they finalized what instruments the characters play. Aja was messing around with drumsticks earlier in the episode and spoiler alert, she’s not a drummer, like, at all.

Jerrica calls The Misfits trash and insults Pizzazz. Then they talk about Eric holding a rigged battle of the bands competition. Which obviously Jerrica doesn’t approve of.

We then cut to Jerrica in her bedroom on a stormy night. Jerrica’s mad about Eric ruining the good image of her dad’s company. Then Kimber points out the jewellery box addressed to Jerrica. It contains earrings, very familiar earrings. Everybody wonders who they came from. Aja figures it was Rio.

Then thunder and lighting, and a mysterious woman who looks like she walked out of an exercise tape addresses Jerrica in a slightly ghostly voice.

And then Jerrica very rudely puts her hands in this woman’s belly. Jerrica! Personal space!

Understandably the mysterious woman leaves. In a flash of light.

Everybody follows the directions left in the earring box and meet up with the woman in Starlight Drive-In. She walks through a wall and they follow her in their van, the Starlight Express.

A quick aside, I was talking to my friend who’s only seen two or three episodes of Jem because of me kind of going, “Well, these episodes are very silly. I think it’d be fun to watch them with you.” Anyway, I was talking about the show and because of the fact that everything has the word Starlight in the name he asked if Starlight was Jerrica’s last name. And yeah, I get why he would think that.

Anyway, the woman introduces herself as Synergy and explains that she’s a highly advanced entertainment system made by Emmett Benton. We get shots where the characters split off and look at their interests, Shana at clothes, Kimber at the musical instruments, and Aja at the car, the Rockin' Roadster.

Seeing Synergy’s ability to make realistic holograms along with all the instruments gave Jerrica an idea.

Oh neat, we’re seeing a performance by a band that sounds… not great. I guess the rigging is going well.

And then we hear some more music, this time a song building up.

And that song the first one performed by Jem in the series. It’s a very solid one! A good note to start the band on.

Obviously everybody loved this band, they sound great! Eric gets all worked up and demands to know what they’re doing here because the contest is invite only. Jem points to Jerrica and announces that she was sent there by Jerrica.

And then Jem totally inconspicuously runs off of the stage and behind a tree. Then turns into Jerrica. She meets up with Eric on the stage and they’re caught arguing on the mics. I actually forgot that Eric was the one who put control of Starlight Music up as a stake in a new competition. One just between The Misfits and Jem and The Holograms.

A film producer named Howard Sands happened to be in the crowd and he promises a movie, and a mansion to the winner of the new battle of the bands competition. Six months from now.

Jerrica accepts the challenge having full confidence in herself and her sisters.

The Misfits are rowdy trouble makers so they steal Jem’s equipment and drives off with it in their van. The rival band gives chase because that’s their stuff and they need it. Musical equipment is not cheap. We get this thrilling chase where Roxy and Stormer throws things at the car Aja’s driving to try to get them to crash I guess. And uh

That’s a cliff. They’re heading right off a cliff. And Aja hit the gas judging by the sound effect.

Good work.

You can kind of tell this was the end of the short, especially when they come back from commercial and replay the chase scene.

Jerrica’s not dumb. She sends a hologram of Jem out to get help. The hologram meets up with Rio and tells him where the car is. Rio saves them.

The paper reports on this and gives Jem and The Holograms a bunch of publicity.

The Misfits don’t see much of a problem with this because they can still win the competition and of course

winning is everything.

I just, look at this GIF.

Okay I needed you to see that. The music video is a wonderful flavour of silly.

Now back to Starlight House. We see the girls putting money into the Honor Jar. It's a communal fund that the girls contribute to in order to afford things for Starlight House. They’re trying to buy a new fridge. Before adding the funds to the jar they have to announce how they made the money.

Ashley questions the jar which really adds to the feeling that she’s new here.

Also, it’s weird hearing Deirdre being voiced by Samantha Newark. She’s voiced by Patricia Alice Albrecht in her later appearances. The same VA as Pizzazz, Samantha Newark is Jerrica’s by the way.

Meanwhile Eric phones a thug and tells him to make Jerrica uncomfortable.

I need to know where this place is located. It’s in the middle of a forest or something. And I swear that’s a river behind it. Is that safe when you have twelve kids? The youngest is eight so maybe we don't have too much to worry about.

Anyway, Ashley steals money from the Honor Jar and Jerrica catches her. And then says something that never sat super right with me.

“There’s no room in Starlight House for girls who steal and lie.”

Like, hm, I dunno, I can’t articulate exactly why it bothers me. I feel like it would kind of breed dishonesty. Like how controlling parents often end up with kids who are really good at sneaking around them.

But Jerrica is a teen herself and taking care of twelve kids so I can’t be too hard on her. Especially because her dad did recently die so there is going to be some adjusting to the new role as foster mother.

Jerrica tells Ashley that the other girls are going to decide on her punishment because they’re the ones running the Honor Jar. The punishment is to raise $30 which is ten times the amount Ba Nee raised by the way.

I get a kick out of Samantha Newark trying to sound like a tough girl, possibly from Jersey. What do I know? I’m Canadian. Now I’m kind of wishing they kept her as Deirdre’s voice actor. We do get more "tough girl Newark" later in the series though. In an excellent episode.

Later on during the night Rio’s explaining that the power’s still out and offers to stay over. But Jerrica turns him down. They lean in for a kiss.

And hear a bunch of giggling which is cute.

Jerrica turns to them and says, “Jealous?” before kissing Rio.

I like this dynamic between Jerrica and her girls.

Later that night the thug Eric talked to, Zipper, awkwardly breaks into the house. It takes him a couple tries to break the window. Still better than what I could do.

One of the Starlight Girls, Marianne, never named in the show, alerts Jerrica to there being a noise coming from downstairs. So Jerrica takes her sisters with her to check out the noise while the kids stay upstairs and safe.

Because there’s no power and it’s the middle of the night Kimber’s holding a lantern with the biggest damn flame I have ever seen.

Zipper having been caught pushes past Kimber and knocks the lantern out of her hands. And sets the house on fire.

Like, crazily on fire.

And this is where the episode ends.

I would love to do more but this took even longer than I expected and I haven’t been getting enough sleep so I’m quite tired and dizzy. So bedtime for me. I’ll pick this up later, possibly tomorrow.

#Jem and the Holograms #Kujo Watches Jem #Well that took almost three hours #Next episode will have less screenshots. I mostly wanted ones that show the characters when they get introduced #The screenshotting took the most time #I can't wait for the Honor Jar to stop being a thing. I have to consciously make an effort to spell it without a u

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