#the moai kids are just called moai. not that big a deal but it means literally the only time they are ever called the moai kids is the cast

[puppys-rhythm-heaven]

ds is great and all but there’s like, four instances of the reading material either lying or just. not being accurate. most of it’s in the character files or whatever, might i add-

#puppy rambles #rhythm hell #ds #reading material #(yes it gets a tag now. i talk about it a good amount so yee) #the instances i'm referring to are as follows: #''hidden characters'' implies multiple but all it's referring to is play-yan's cameo in the dazzles #instead of mentioning the clappy trio and space dancers as racing fans they're instead pointed out as the glee club conductor and paddlers #(or excuse me. table tennis guys) #the moai kids are just called moai. not that big a deal but it means literally the only time they are ever called the moai kids is the cast #and also that's paradise's lyrics card thingie gets the words wrong #cuz it says ''i am always looking at you my sweet girl'' when the lyrics are ''i am always looking at you my sweet dear'' #as literally proven by megamix's lyric captions #(slash subtitles but whatever same thing) #and also because of that the wiki lists the lyrics as ''i am always looking at you my sweet girl'' and this infuriates me #... though i mean i'm guessing the error in the reading material's probably just a translation issue or smth idk

[cecilspeaks]

136 - The Mudstone Abyss Part 2

Kevin: Age is just a number that counts quickly upward to an ending point.

Welcome to Desert Bluffs.

Hello, Desert Bluffs! Let’s start there. Let’s start with a greeting, a simple hello and of course, a huge smile. Then let’s move right into the good news, the happy news.

Charles and I went on our first date many weeks back, and it was magical! I met up with him in the new town square, which is a sand dune with a cow skull on it. I was wearing my best rabbit fur coveralls and rainbow-striped head band. He was wearing a rose gold lame cravat and soccer shin guards. We went to eat at Desert Bluffs’ newest restaurant, Vermillion, which specializes in lip meat. We shared a bottle of Cabernet and talked comfortably about all the things you shouldn’t talk about on a first date. Politics – we’re both theocrats -, religion – we were both raised in the arborial faith -, sex – we both have had it – and banking. We had some polite disagreements here. Later we went back to my house next to the Temple of Joy. It had been a long time since either of us had had - [chuckling] well, I don’t wanna share too much. So I’ll skip to the next morning, where over coffee we talked about our dreams, or rather dream. It was that same shared dream that all Desert Bluffs citizens have every night with the birds flying in seemingly random directions over the cornfield before crashing their bodies into the ground. Charles, being new in town, had a lot of questions about this dream. But I said that the dream is nothing more than a simple pleasure we all share as a community. It’s fun to know that the whole time sometimes wakes up at the exact same time, sweating and screaming for joy!

After enriching conversation and strong coffee, he said he had to go meet someone. When I asked who, he said, “We’ll talk about it later, it’s not a big deal.” He kissed me and I smiled like I have not smiled in years. I smiled so hard that every glass object in my kitchen exploded all at once. A lacerating confetti of joy.

An update on the construction of the new Mudstone Abyss. Mayor Lauren Mallard reported today that the dig is behind schedule. She sighted a shortage of workers. She had planned for a larger turnout of labor, but this simply has not manifested. I’m disappointed to hear this, Desert Bluffs, but it’s certainly understandable. We all have jobs and responsibilities, and making time to contribute to the building of this great monument can be difficult. Desert Bluffs is a place of hope, of renewal, of refuge for those in need and above all, of joy. The Mudstone Abyss is a celebration of all those things, and I tell you now that the reward will be great. Not just the reward of being devoured by the Smiling God, but the reward of your eternal impact on your town. Think of the Rapa Nui people who built the Moai, or the proud union workers who erected that deco masterpiece, the Chrysler Building. Or the time traveling street artist collective known as Banksy, who built Stonehenge.

Every great monument is built by human hands, and those hands leave their artistry for generations to enjoy, discover, and study. The Mudstone Abyss will be a triumph of Desert Bluffs citizens, and later a tourist attraction, and later a historical landmark, and eventually a curious and misunderstood artefact of a long dead civilization. You can be part of this.

Mayor Mallard and I put our heads together and agreed that the solution here is to set up communes and camps along the dig site to make your commutes easier. Schools and businesses will go on half day schedules so that everyone can make time for the monument. Mayor Mallard, and I support her brilliant idea 100 per cent – believes this is the only task we should be focused on as a town. The Smiling God deserves a physical manifestation of our penitence and devotion. Desert Bluffs deserves a notable landmark, and best of all, if we all worked and lived together, we would get to know each other’s interests, cultures, languages, histories. If we worked together, we could become so much – closer.

And now a word from our sponsors. When we talk apocalypse, we talk fires and spires of smoke and screams and wars and horrid clouds of ash and floods. And this is a comforting vision, because it supposes we’re all in it together. But death is mostly something you keep to yourself. In all reality, the apocalypse is likely going to just be you alone in a room with the flu. Bed, Bath and Beyond: you’re going to need some new sheets.

So after my first date with Charles, we went out again the following week. I showed him around Desert Bluffs, I took him to the Sandy Blossom Bowling Alley and Arcade Joy Compound. We bowled that afternoon and played a few old video games like Ms. Pac-Man, Sleepytime Spider Swallower, and Horse Carcass, all the classics from our youth. We then went for a romantic walk along the beach. Charles thought it shouldn’t be called a beach because there was no body of water, but I pointed out that it was sand, and that there was water somewhere. How close the water is is all a matter of faith. He laughed, and I squeezed his hand. Then we went to the food truck park. He bought some cheese pirogues from the Odessa Dumplings truck, while I went to the Tex-Mex truck and got a burrito filled with fibreglass insulation and refried beans.

The food trucks weren’t nearly as classy as Vermillion, but food is only as good as the company you enjoy it with. And I really enjoyed my time with Charles. It’s hard to intimately connect to people especially as you get older, but my time with Charles made dating seem easy. Why would anyone choose to be single when they could just walk up to the perfect man and say “Let’s know each other”? When life is good, it’s hard to understand how it could have ever been bad.

After dinner, I suggested we could go get a drink together. Unfortunately Desert Bluffs doesn’t have any bars. Not for religious reasons, I explained to him. It’s just that no one’s been able to open one yet. The state places some pretty high taxes on hard liquor transported across dimensional rifts. So I offered to have him back over to my place for some more wine. But he said he had to be going. I protested. Charles said, “Kevin. You fill me with such joy, and I don’t wanna keep secrets. I should tell you I have a son. His name is Donovan and he’s five. He’s a sweet kid.” Charles said he moved here because Donovan starts school next year, and he wanted to raise his boy in a community based in happiness and positivity. But Charles is concerned about bringing dates home with him until he knows they will stay around for a while. “Kevin,” he said, touching my face along the socket of my left eye. “I think you would be great around Donovan.” My smile disappeared from my face. Not because I didn’t feel happy, but because I felt – so many things. My lips couldn’t express them all. He said, “I’m not suggesting we have to be serious right now, we have to figure that out with time.” He then said we should go back to his place, but on the way, he needed to pick up Donovan from Grandma Josephine, who has been babysitting. We spent the rest of the evening drinking sodas at his home. I wanted to touch Charles, to put my hand against his chest again, to kiss him with real passion. But instead we watched Donovan play with toy airplanes and Charles talked about the things parents talk about.

Donovan was nice, but I had to concentrate hard to keep my smile.

[long pause] An update on the construction of the Mudstone Abyss. Nearly everyone in town is now at the dig site, setting into their lean-to’s and pop tents and gathering up the appropriate tools for the physical labor ahead. Mayor Lauren Mallard said she is heartened by the outpouring of support in the past hour. We have made huge strides, already marking out our mile-wide parameter and deepening the pit to almost 1,000 feet. Some stone workers have even begun carving sacred texts from the Book of Devouring. I’m getting reports from the construction area that some of those etchings have begun to glow bright white, as the earth trembles beneath them. Wow! I’m getting chills just thinking about this!

There have been some scuffles among the workers, miscommunication and arguments that devolved into small fights. The Desert Bluffs police department sent two officers, who are also friends of mine from the Temple of Joy, Keon and Kelton, to break up some of these skirmishes. But more fights and arguments happened than they could control. Officers Keon and Kelton reported that parties involved in fights were shouting nonsense at each other. They initially thought some were non-English speakers, but they could not identify the languages. Then they saw young Ryan Nichols, who was an English major at Ala-bay-, Al-bama, at his former university, spouting absolute gibberish at another person. Keon and Kelton reported that sometimes people’s words sounded like normal English, but without any context or meaning, and at other times like unconventional noises that are not common to any human language. But everyone speaks passionately and personally, thinking they’re communicating what they mean, even though they were not. Apparently the fighting became pervasive enough that Mayor Mallard had to make a public address. Here’s a transcript of what she said.

“Desert Bluffs, please do not fight. Remember to take time to smile and relate to one another. If someone says something you do not understand or do not appreciate, simply cauliflower. Roomba starlight rice tank ship. Stallion the ballisters right on through, until balloons.” And then she repeated “until balloons” over and over, with complete conviction and passion. And eventually the fighting stopped, not because of the speech but because of sheer confusion and exhaustion.

As the fighting stopped, so did the construction. No one knew what anyone was saying, longtime friends could not find their words and so resorted to physical gestures. But even Jerry Kramer and his daughter Morgan, who communicate mostly through sign language, found that they could no longer comprehend any of the phrases.

More on this developing situation, but first a look at traffic. Near the dig site for the Mudstone Abyss, several hazy dark shadows, vaguely human-shaped, have begun to appear. They are drifting along city streets, which has caused nearly a dozen minor traffic.. uh.. a-ci-des. Ac-dicent. Acci..dents. There is a ten minute backup entering downtown along sci-fi novel. Al-along rhubarb. Ugh, I can’t oak tree, can’t sparrow modem. Spar-row mmodem. Sparrowmodem. That’s not right. I have to condensate. Ugh. Have to con-den-sate. Yellow refrigerator shelves.

I’m trying to say – crab grass to the petroleum!

[“She Left Without A Goodbye.” by Cerah https://soundcloud.com/cerahmusic]

Machine: First unheard message.

Charles: Kevin. Sorry to bother you, it’s Charles. I need you to get the word out that language doesn’t work right in Desert Bluffs. I haven’t found a single dictionary that expresses normal word structure, I’ve been recording and re-recording this message for the past hour and each time it comes out like alphabet soup. No syntax, no identifiable verbs, no words that even appear to fit together. But I did finally manage to find an old text you wrote about the souls of unpure, those whom the Smiling God cannot clean even upon devour. There’s a certain style of hat you described that can keep your thoughts and ideas pure. I-I drove over to your house, because I remember you had one just like this you told me you wore during sermons. Sorry for going through your stuff, but the hat seems to be working for now.

Anyway, based on my research, I think this dig is (loosing) those spirits back into the world and they’re causing… [whispers] There’s something at my door, Kevin. I-I need to go, OK? Call you back in well, I don’t know.

Machine: End of message.

Charles: [whispering] There’s a hazy dark shadow hovering about my front door, Kevin. It’s not knocking, it’s just hovering in front of my house. I can’t make out a face, I’m peering through a crack in the living room blinds to get a better look. Oh no, I think it saw me!

Machine: End of message.

Charles: OK, it’s gone I think. This giant yellow hat is really remarkable. Anyway, I wanted you to get the word out on your radio show about the dig and let your friend Lauren know as well. If we can fully (stop) this giant (pit), I think we can stem the return of these unpure souls, who I think are dismantling our language.

Also… I haven’t heard from you in a while. I hope bringing Donny around didn’t scare you off. If it did, please just tell me now, OK, I won’t be hurt. That’s a lie. I would definitely be hurt if you stopped seeing me because I have a child, but I won’t be bitter. That’s really it. I won’t be bitter if you tell me now. Now that I think of it, that’s not true either. I’ll be less bitter, less hurt, less angry if you tell me now.

Or maybe you’re busy. I know the Mudstone Abyss has all your attention these days and what with communication failing us, I’m sure it’s hard to think about having dinner or even, I dunno, like a family date. You and me and Donny, maybe a trip to the amusement park or… We were thinking about adopting a cat, is there an animal shelter in Desert Bluffs? That could be a really fun day together.

Either day, when you have a chance, just let me know you got this. I don’t wanna stop seeing you, but I’d rather know sooner than aquifer. Aquifer. What? I mean platter.

Kevin, that shadow is back. He’s not at my window anymore, he’s inside graft huts. No I mean – grant first, grapple wigs grapple wigs, Kevin I – handlebar cereal, OK? Handlebar cereal.

Machine: End of new message.

Today’s proverb: Girl, did you fall from heaven? ‘Cause there’s a giant crater where you landed and radiation levels are spiking.

#welcome to night vale #welcome to desert bluffs #welcome to night vale transcirpts #episode 136 #the mudstone abyss part 2 #the mudstone abyss

[ezra-blue]

You’ve Got Something - 32

For @baronvonriktenstein‘s Messy!AU

32: Something to Lose

Gojyo has a brief conversation that causes him to reconsider how he views his relationship with Hakkai and his entire future.

Word Count: ~2500

32: Something to Lose

Goku cranked the Honda up on the jack as quick as he could, then grabbed his socket wrench and scooted up to the rear passenger-side tire, humming a little to himself between little grunts of effort as he worked the tire loose. He seemed to be pretending Gojyo and Gat weren't watching him from the side table, Gojyo sitting on the work bench, Gat with his arms folded.

“Anyone can change a tire,” Gojyo remarked, “but it takes a pro to do it fast and right.” Gat nodded, then took a step closer to Goku.

“You got it?”

“No sweat!” Goku grinned and threw Gat a quick salute, and continued lining the new tire up on the axle. Gojyo chuckled a little to himself as Goku kept at it. 

“He's a good kid. I have no idea how we're ever gonna get a better apprentice once we've made him into a proper mechanic.” Goku couldn't hold back a grin at those words, but he didn't stop working. Instead, he cranked the last bolt back into place on the tire and clapped his hands.

“Done!” He jumped up and spun around to face them. “What's my time?”

Gojyo chuckled and walked past Goku to check his work, but Gat checked his watch. “Minute-thirty.” Then, he extended a hand with a flat palm. Goku gasped, and ran over to slap him a low five.

“And it's perfect, too! Good job, kid!” Gojyo came up behind him and ruffled his hair, and Goku basked in the attention. “Gettin’ better all the time, aren’cha? Your time's up there with mine. I'll make a good note for your teacher.”

“Thanks!” Goku beamed, his grin so wide it probably hurt a little. “Can I text Sanzo and tell 'im my time?”

“Go for it, kid, then I need you to call our generics supplier about the bolt shipment, we're flat out and need 'em yesterday.”

“Whatever you say, boss!” Goku hop-skipped off to grab his phone, and Gojyo turned, still feeling all warm and fuzzy with pride, back to Gat.

"We got a real good one, wouldn't you say?"

"Mm." Gat wasn't much of a talker, but that rare smile spoke volumes.

"Yeah." Gojyo moved back towards the office, grabbing the car's keys, and Gat followed. "Lucky kid. I was still figuring myself out when I was his age. No way I'd'a had a steady boyfriend like he does, and I sure as shit wouldn't be bothering with school. I'm lucky old man J got me and Banri certified on his say-so."

"We had an informal apprenticeship sponsorship certification, too." Gat shrugged.

"Oh yeah?" Gojyo raised an eyebrow back at Gat. "Then I guess I ain't the only one. Still." He pushed the office door open and pulled a blank report from the folder. "Good kid. Glad he's got it together."

"It's a journey." Gat shrugged again, standing starkly in the door. Gojyo could sense Gat observing him, studying him, as if he were looking for something. Gojyo tipped his gaze back up to him, meeting Gat's hooded gaze.

"Something the matter?"

"I'm concerned."

"Oh." Gojyo sat up. "You wanna talk about it?"

Gat nodded, but instead of shutting the door, he took a step closer, then broke eye contact. "You and your... Hakkai. I haven't seen you go for coffee lately. Is he alright?"

"Oh," Gojyo repeated, dismay tinging his tones, and he looked back down at the report form. "Uh, me and him, we're kind of... eh, guess I can tell you." He glanced up at Gat, but couldn't do more than mutter, "I'm kinda bugged with him. I ain't mad, but I'm dunno how to deal with him, and I ain't gettin' nowhere. Nothin's changed, just, tryin' to figure out what to do next."

Gat looked impassive, as ever, like a Moai face embedded in stone, but his gaze dropped down towards the floor. "Does he know how you feel?"

"Huh?" Gojyo raised an eyebrow, but Gat shrugged his shoulders.

"You should tell him. Honesty helps most things."

"Heh." Gojyo couldn't help but appreciate the irony in taciturn Gat telling him to talk to Hakkai. "Gotta ask, you seein' anyone?" Gat nodded. "Lucky them."

Gat shook his head, his expression unchanged. "Things aren't perfect. We disagree. It's not easy. We just... keep working on it." He hung his head, his stoic expression suddenly pensive, but Gojyo put his pen down and settled in his chair.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I never asked for perfect, myself." He scratched the back of his head, and his mind drifted back. Thinking about Hakkai, his warm smile, his kind words, his sweet, deep forgiveness, the smell of warm sugar in his hair and on his skin, made the anxiety he felt at baring his soul feel a little smaller.

"What is it you want?" Gat pressed, meeting Gojyo's gaze again. Gojyo chuckled under his breath.

"What else can a guy ask for than a happy ending?"

"Sure ya do!" Goku popped his head in, grinning like a great big Jack-o-Lantern on Mischief Night. "That's 'cause you think with what's between your legs instead of between your ears!" Gojyo hopped to his feet.

"That ain't what I meant and you know it!" He raised a fist, still grinning, and chased Goku back into the garage. Gat smiled to himself as Gojyo swore Goku down, pretending to be angry while unable to hold back a grin, then checked his phone. He had a few messages from Hazel:

"Haven't seen you lately. I know work's got you running, but give me a call."

"Did you get my last text?"

"Miss you."

"It'd be nice to know you're alive."

"Are you still mad? This is just plain immature now. Call me."

Gat put his phone away and stifled a sigh, just in time to hear Gojyo announce he was going out back for a quick smoke.

Gojyo knew he'd been a little colder to Hakkai since his last session with Koumyou. He'd hoped Hakkai hadn't noticed him being quieter, being more careful with what he said. He'd thought he was being subtle, but Hakkai was way more perceptive than his glasses prescription suggested. Hakkai was probably quietly fretting over him again, and despite it all, that wasn't what Gojyo wanted.

What he wanted was to talk to Hakkai and have a real, full conversation about some of the stuff between them. Maybe if he unpacked some of it, he and Hakkai could sort it, or get some help sorting it. Something! He wanted Hakkai, nothing was going to change that, and if he had to take the first step fixing it, then damn it, that was what was going to happen!

He didn't even bother pretending to get a cigarette out when the door closed, but grabbed his phone out instead and dialed Hakkai's number. It rang three times, but Hakkai picked up. "Gojyo? Is something the matter?"

"I, uh, hey, babe." He tried to sound casual, though he could feel his tongue tangling with the words. "Listen, I, uh, I just really wanted to talk."

"Certainly, I can make a moment." Hakkai was polite, but terse -- Gojyo didn't like that. Time to fix it.

"I've been having some stuff come up lately, and I wanted to say I'm sorry. I--"

Someone grabbed Gojyo's shoulder. "The fuck--?!" Banri was there, standing beside him, wearing a sinister smirk that screamed trouble. Banri put a finger over his lips, then motioned for Gojyo to hang up the phone, then drew a line across his own neck. 'Or else.' Fuck. "Goku, can this wait?!" He scowled at Banri and tried to wave him off, but Banri shook his head.

"Gojyo?" Hakkai was still there, sounding confused, but Banri was reaching for his phone.

"Hakkai, I gotta--" Banri snatched the phone and hung it up, then stuffed it into his jacket.

"No shit. We gotta talk." Banri slammed his palm on the wall over Gojyo's shoulder, trapping him against the brick wall -- so he thought, until Gojyo shoved him back.

"Fuck off, I ain't got shit to say to you! The fuck do you want?"

Banri scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Hell, Gojyo, I gave you a chance. I thought you'd see things right if I gave you time to figure it out, but here you are hangin' on like a dog that's bit the mailman's ass."

"Your made-up slang is still shit." Gojyo advanced a step towards him. "Look, we ain't got nothin' between us no more, you're not getting your paws back on my business, and if I'm being honest, you're kind of a dick. You ain't got no right to--"

Banri reached into his jacket, and Gojyo jumped back, expecting a knife. Instead, Banri got out a cigarette and an envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket, and lit up. "I need back in."

"And I told you no." Gojyo followed Banri with his gaze as he paced and smoked. Banri sounded too confident, and it was putting Gojyo on edge. Even at that denial, Banri was unshaken.

"I said 'need.' This ain't an option." Banri blew smoke towards the wall, then glared at Gojyo. "I wasted way too much time letting you play Mister Good Boss. I need this business 'cause I got a business to run.” He tapped ash towards Gojyo. “We got way too many cars coming out of the cities that need to get broken down and moved, and if I ain't got somewhere to break cars down, then I ain't gettin' far."

Gojyo's eyes widened. "You mean you went through this whole fucking ordeal of setting up our business so you could run a fucking chop shop." He shouldn't have been surprised, but fuck, it still stung. Banri just grinned again, his teeth looking way too sharp.

"Money rolls in way faster that way. We get a couple good cars with universal parts a week and move 'em out fast, there's no overhead, we just rake it in and retire when we're still young enough to enjoy it." He snickered, shaking his head and shrugging his arms. "Why else would I have bothered? Ain't gotta worry about just taking a cut when you steal the car yourself and do your own butchering. Seriously, I'd'a thought you'd be all over the idea like a leech at Dracula's house."

"That didn't even make sense!" Gojyo took a swipe at Banri and knocked the cigarette out of his mouth. He took a snippet of satisfaction from it, but his triumph died at the glare Banri turned back on him.

"Yeah, well, it's the damn truth."

"Fuck, Jien was right about you. I should've known." Gojyo huffed. "If you think tellin' me the truth was gonna turn me--"

"Fuck you, your fucking brother, and the fucking truth. All that Dudley-Do-Right bullshit makes me sick. You think you can change what you are by pretending you ain’t?" Banri opened the envelope now. "I gave you a chance to change your mind the easy way, but here I am, forcin' the fuckin' issue." He turned the contents of the envelope towards Gojyo, a single piece of cellophane paper, and Gojyo's stomach churned. All the blood ran from his face at once.

"You said you didn't have any of those left."

"I'm a dirty liar and you know it." Banri was smirking again. "Here you are, Mister Pure-of-Heart and Perfect. Little Mister Clean Living, huh?" Gojyo tried to snatch the photograph, but Banri hopped back and kept it out of his reach. "Man, I'm surprised your perfect big brother never found this; God knows he was probably looking for it. Wonder what he'd do if he ever saw you like this." He wiggled the photograph. "Or the nice folks you rent this shack from. Oh, or your pretty little boyfriend with the pert little ass and the proper, posh voice. I bet he'd beg your fucking pardon then, wouldn't he?"

Gojyo froze for a second, his heart stopping. Then, he did manage to snatch the photograph from Banri and promptly tore it in half, then dropped the pieces. Banri just scoffed and threw his hands out. “I got digital copies, stupid! Not to mention videos, all over the fucking internet.”

“You bastard, you said--!”

“I say a lot of shit you wanna hear.” Banri set his hands on his hips. “What're you gonna do, call the cops? Those idiots ain't caught me yet, and you know you're exactly as guilty as I was of everything. Everything, Gojyo.” He smirked. “So, go on. Call the cops. Tell your boyfriend. Tell your friends. In fact, I'll do you a solid and show them myself, everything, every last nasty little detail. See how that goes for you. Of course, if you'd rather I kept my mouth shut--” Banri pounded a fist on the wall of the garage. “You open these doors for me. Shit, I'll even cut you back in a little in addition to keeping our old secrets on the hush.”

Gojyo balled his fists. “You fucking bastard,” he repeated, his mind reeling and racing too fast to compose any better retort. Banri chuckled and slapped his back, then shoved Gojyo’s phone back into Gojyo’s chest..

“I'll give you a week to make your mind up. One week. After that, I've got a flash drive to mail to your property manager, plenty more to bun, and I won't stop until I make sure everyone you know knows just what you are and you crawl back to your place.” Gojyo scrambled to catch his phone, and Banri dragged his fingernails down Gojyo's back as he pulled his hand away pivoted back. “Consider your options, kid. After all, you've got something to lose now, doncha?” Gojyo's face fell, but he could still see the photograph torn at his feet. His phone started to ring, and Gojyo knew it would be Hakkai, who else? By the time he lifted his head and answered, Banri was gone.

He forced calm into his voice: “Hey babe, sorry about that.”

“It's alright; did something come up?”

“Minor crisis, yeah.” Gojyo scraped his bangs back from his forehead. God, he hoped Hakkai couldn't hear the nausea in his voice, only the cool, collected him he wanted Hakkai to know. There was still so much he couldn’t let Hakkai know about, not yet. “Don't worry. I got it under control now.”

“You sound tense.”

“Just... just shaking it off, still.” He scrubbed his palm down his face. “I... I was just calling to apologize if I've been off lately. I'm workin' on it. I promise.”

If nothing else, he had a deadline to work towards. Most people like a good deadline, right? It helped them  He had a week to decide if he wanted to give up the path he'd hammered out and give in to something he thought he'd given up, or if he was going to risk losing Hakkai and everything he'd built.

He'd thought he was on the right track. He had no idea how fast he could derail, and he could only hold on tight and hope he could steer through.

#You've Got Something #fanfiction #my writing #well this is happening