#2 Hype magazine

[trillscienceofficer]

from Cinefantastique Vol 28 #4/5, November 1996

TABOO BREAKER: Another Trill gender bender, “Rejoined” echoes TREK's legacy of exploring the nature of love.

By Dale Kutzera

Thirty years ago STAR TREK broke a long-standing television taboo by presenting the first interracial kiss—a fact Gene Roddenberry often boasted about. Early in DS9’s fourth season a similar taboo fell. Though not the first lesbian kiss—LA LAW and ROSEANNE have done it, as did PICKET FENCES (albeit with the lights out)—it was certainly the most passionate. For 15 incredible seconds, Jadzia Dax and the wife of a former host kissed. And not a closed-mouth kiss, turned away from the camera as between Kirk and Uhura. This was passion.

The writers did not set out to create a “gay” show with “Rejoined.” The original story involved a male lover of one of Dax’s previous hosts and how their renewed attraction broke a Trill taboo against relationships with lovers from past lives. “We had talked for a long time about doing the show about Dax and a former spouse,” said staff writer/producer Robert Hewitt Wolfe, “and we always suspected that was a Trill cultural taboo. But how do you make the audience understand that even though Dax is doing something they would find acceptable, it’s against the norms of social behavior for her society? The story came before the decision to do the same sex couple. It was always an analogy to the way homosexual relationships are treated in our society. Trills have no reason to be against same sex couples, but what a better way to show that they are a totally different, alien society than to see them reacting in self-righteous indignation just because they were lovers in a previous life? That society should dictate who you should and should not love is a sad thing and that’s what the show is about. We didn't sit down and say ‘Lets do a gay show.”

Credit Ron Moore with taking Rene Echevarria's story and re-shaping it by making the past lover a woman. “Initially it was a man, she was a woman, and here they are,” said Moore. “I remember reading the story and thinking about it. Literally, I was on my way home and started to think this would be a much stronger story—it would really be a stand-out episode of the series—If this was a woman. Play it as a woman and really go for it. I called Ira from my car and he was receptive and the next day we just dumped it on the staff. It got batted around and there were reservations here and there and then everybody signed on board.”

“Ron is the one that made it happen," said Echevarria. “People had talked about doing a so-called lesbian angle in other contexts. Ron is the one who brought it together and said this is the show. The taboo was Michael Piller’s idea and Ron merged it, saw how they tracked and said, ‘We will do the show and never even mention the fact that these are two women. This taboo tracks with our own taboos or many audience members’ taboos about homosexuality and the argument will track straight down the line and it will be great.”’

Realizing that, as in any story of rejoined lovers, it would inevitably lead to a passionate kiss, Moore wrote a memo to Ira Behr and Rick Berman justifying what could be DS9’s most controversial episode. “We knew it was going to be a controversial episode if we went for it, so we clearly had to go to Rick and the studio,” said Moore. “Rick questioned us. He wanted to make sure we knew what we were doing and why. He focused in on it and then he went to the studio and their reaction was the same: “Why? How is this going to work? How are you going to handle it? Is this going to be just salacious? Is this going to be tasteful? And how far are you going to go?’”

The studio was concerned that some viewers may infer that the two women were having sex, and worried that some affiliate stations would not air the episode. “It really boiled down to how far are you going to go and how are you going to handle it?" continued Moore. “The fact that this show was not known as NYPD BLUE and was this shocking the audience and taking them by surprise? I think we pushed it in the kiss scene. That is a powerful, amazing scene. You can’t get around that. That is the show stopper. It was not a gratuitous scene—I thought I would have done it if that character had been a man. So I didn’t think we were doing it to grab attention. It was the right thing to do in the story and it’s going to hit you in a more powerful way. One of the arguments we used was this is part of our franchise legacy. The original series prided itself on TV’s first interracial kiss. We've been priding ourselves on that for 30 years, so why not take the next step and be true to our ideals and convictions. STAR TREK has a point of view, a not completely middle-of-the-road view of the future. This is part of our view.”

Before proceeding, the general premise was run past actress Terry Farrell. “Ira called me last summer to say Michael [Dorn] was on the show and would I mind kissing a woman?" said Farrell. “At the time I said, ‘As long as she’s beautiful.’ I was just being silly. Then I thought as soon as you get the script I want to see it, because if it is anything sensationalized or a joke I don’t want to do it. [Ira said], ‘No it will be a love story with integrity.’ And I thought it was.”

With the green light given, Moore and Echevarria began work on the script. “This was a love story and the trick was to write it as a love story and forget the fact that she was a woman,” said Moore. “The backstory helped in that they were married once. They were husband and wife—write them that way. Two people who really shared something. One of them died. They never got to say good-bye and years later, in different bodies, they run into each other again and play that out. The thing with the Trill taboo was a perfect metaphor for issues of sexual tolerance and intolerance and we played that taboo without really playing our taboo."

The writers tried not to focus on the fact that both lovers were women, and simply wrote the story as a straight romance. “It’s easy to do on paper because the name Lenara is not one you really associate with women anyway,’’ Moore said. “We made it up. So on paper it’s easy to forget and just write this love story and this taboo is what we’re dealing with. It’s not until you’re sitting in the room watching casting sessions that you got two women playing these scenes and you go, ‘Wow, this is really going to hit you in a different way when you see it.’ But we tried to stay true to just telling the story and not going for the easy shots.”

“I was excited, because they were brave,” said Farrell of the writers. “If I were to change the names to Frank and Sara I totally believed that love story. It didn’t matter what the names were, these two people were in love with each other. I was so happy that I was the one who was willing to fight for the love. I knew people would relate to me. And at the end I was so sad. No matter what anybody else says, it made me really proud.”

For Farrell the episode also offered her an opportunity to express on film her off-screen respect for Avery Brooks. In a moment of critical decision, as Dax contemplates breaking the Trill taboo and throwing her future into chaos, Sisko advises her against the hasty decision, but vows to stand by her whatever her choice may be. “I didn’t even need to do homework on that scene. I just used my relationship with Avery. The first year was very difficult to adjust to the dialog. People got impatient with me, other directors and other actors. I was 28 years old. but I felt like I was 18. I lost my confidence. I must have driven them nuts, but Avery was always very supportive and strong. He really helped me build my confidence. He’s strong and silent. I don’t know anything about him personally, but he’s been incredibly giving to me emotionally. We cried a lot on that scene. A lot more than you saw. It felt weird not crying too hard, but holding back. It helped to have a director [Brooks] you trust. I needed his opinion on that.”

Director Brooks had Farrell and gueststar Susanna Thompson (who earned thepraise of everyone involved in the show) rehearse the critical scene up to the momentof the kiss. The actual description of the scene in the script was general, leaving it up to the actors and director to stage. “I said it was a kiss they have been waiting a hundred years for. It’s a powerful moment, let them do their magic on the set,” said Moore. “Avery and the two actresses staged it and pretty much it was left as Avery, Terry, and Susanna wanted it.”

“It described I was touching her face and whispered in her ear—her husband said it turned her on,” said Farrell. “We rehearsed up to the kiss then stopped. I thought it was great Avery directed it. because he was really into being honest and telling the truth, trying to pretend we’re not aliens in outer space, and being honest in the emotions. Avery talked about being passionate and sensuous. What was really hard for me was it starts out in my close-up, then a two-shot and the kiss. She said one word, then gotcha. We wouldn’t dissect this. If I were kissing a man we would say, ‘No tongues? Okay, no tongues.’ Avery didn't want them to cut it down too much. We wanted to make sure that didn't happen. You don't go through telling that kind of story and then say, ‘We can’t be very brave.’”

The writers and cast were pleased and a bit surprised that the kiss was kept almost intact through the editing process. “We saw the kiss and thought, ‘Boy how is Rick going to edit this,” said Echevarria. “We were just so gratified and thrilled to see that he did not pull back on the emotion of the moment. He allowed it to happen. It's by far the most passionate gay kiss I've ever seen on television.”

The reaction to the episode was predictably mixed. Some affiliates did not air the episode. Others excised the scene with the kiss. Mail to the writing staff was heavier than for any other episode they had been involved in, and much of it negative. "My idea that sci-fi fans are socially far-thinking, that they are in many ways liberal, leftist, humanist, whatever, was totally blown apart by some of the incredible comments we received,” said Behr. “There’s a strong conservative strain in the American soul and maybe it’s there in sci-fi, too. I don’t think we were saying anything that was that extraordinarily out of line, but maybe we were and that's pretty sad.”

Not all the mail was negative, however, as Echevarria remembered. “I would say it was ten-to-one pro—saying thank you very much and you don’t know how important this was. Letters from teachers, counselors, groups that counsel gay teens—saying how important something like this is. My mother was just scandalized. For the first time ever she culled me and said, ‘I can't believe you did that. It's so bad and so bad for the children of America.’ I couldn't have been happier.”

“It was a challenge emotionally for me to have a relationship with a woman,” said Farrell. "It wasn't anything I ever thought I’d want to do in my career. I've taken jobs to pay the rent. It was a great feeling to get to do a show that was that special as an actress. A lot of people go through their whole career and don’t get to do something that controversial or with that artistic integrity. I’m very proud of that.”

[cantcatchmeee]

Squid Game’s Actor O Yeong Su in Balenciaga x Adidas for ARENA Magazine

[trnsocial]

WIZARDS The Podcast Guide To Comics | Episode 89.5

We continue our coverage of the massive year-end Wizard issue as William Bruce West returns to discuss Batman: No Man’s Land and we discuss a Battle Chasers Casting Call with past guest, Dalibor. Plus Wizard ranks the best comics of 1998, make predictions for 1999 and lists the Top 10 Monkeys of comics (HUH?!). All this and more, listen now! Get a full scan of the issue, plus listen to UNCUT…

[luvneymar]

(1) LOVE TO HATE ME — NEYMAR JR

— SUMMARY: You & Neymar both were booked for a suggestive underwear photoshoot, the only problem? You both hate each others guts.

PARINGS: young!neymar x female!reader & young!lucas paqueta x female!reader

NOTE: any examples doesn’t not represent the race, body type or skin-tone of the female lead.

— “Yes! Just like that! A bit more slutty and you’ll be perfect!” The casting director yelled at you from the background of your Calvin Klein campaign, You laughed hearing the last part as you posed on the set strutting your body in different ways.

In the recent years of you becoming a rising star in both the athletic world & the modelling world you’ve been booked & busy with these kinds of activities & activities. The one thing that sold the most was your partner shoots with another male athletes or actors.

The first time it happens it was by total accident when the director doubled booked 2 models at the same time but seeing how much money it brought in for you & the companies, you had to basically expect for some handsome famous guy to come & sweep you off your feet.

As you were posing the casting director stopped the photographer as he walked onto the set to whisper something into your ear,“Darling you know how much I love your smile but, we don’t need it here. Look fierce! Look alive! Look sexy!”

He begun to adjust your facial expression by pulling your bottom lip out just a bit to create a naughty but nice type of pout along with curling your eyelashes a bit more to make them look “doe-y” at one angle then “siren-y” the next.

Once he backed away and resumed the shoot you took his advice & begun to pose is much more suggestive ways; ways that your mother would’ve smacked you for if she saw the magazine you’d be front & center in.

“Lovely! That’s what I’m looking for!” He yelled out waving his hands around in an attempt to hype you up.

Soon the flashes stopped as he turned to the photographer looking at the photos he took to approve them, he sent an approval nod his way signalling the standby staff to clear the set & hand you a robe.

As you walked off the casting director engulfed you into a hug patting the back of your head, “You did great today, your next set is in your change-room. As you know that’ll be your collaborative project. Get excited”

You both exchanged cheek kisses before your waddled to change-room feeling exposed & quite cold actually. As you opened the door you immediately searched for the clothes you were going to wear.

Except you only found a pair of pants & the iconic Calvin Klein underwear, not a shirt in sight. You begun to look around trying to see if your shirt was misplaced. Or at-least a bra; you never signed up for a topless shoot.

“My set missing a—!” As you walked out of the change-room holding the “outfit” you were supposed to wear you locked eyes with non other than— Neymar Junior. Neymar fucking Junior.

The Neymar Junior who broke your nose in Secondary School, The Neymar who cut your hair in middle school, The Neymar Junior Santos who tripped you in the halls. That Neymar Junior.

“He’s the super hot athlete? Oh, just kill me now.” You yelled out throwing your arms in the air as you spun your heels speed walking towards your change room grabbing your manager by the arm digging your nails into his arm.

As you slammed the door you shoved him into the couch throwing the clothes on the table as you flopped down beside him, “Seriously? Seriously! You hyped this up so much I thought I was gonna do a shoot with the Stephen Curry.”

“Just listen—” He tried to explain, you slammed your finger onto his mouth signalling him not talk as you shook your head side to side very slowly with an evil scowl on your face.

“I’m having a moment here! I specially said anyone but him! Did you know he broke my—!” You explained flailing your arms in the air as you fell over on the couch resting your head on the armrest.

“Yes I know you’ve told the story a million times and more, to be fair you weren’t all the kind to him either.” He cut you off as he stood up from the couch, “I tried to reason with them but you both are very popular on the internet. You even have fanclub—”

“Ew! Don’t even mention that to me. I’ll just suck it up & hold my breath till I die on set & blame him for 1st degree murder.” You grumbled swinging your legs off the couch as you sat back up staring right at the wall blankly.

“Your loss. I personally think he’s kinda cute—!”

“Get out!” You shrieked throwing your pillow at him as he rushed out of the room laughing at your reaction. You got up & begun pacing around the room chewing on your thumb nail as you pondered about how you could even do this.

You weren’t even worried about Neymar as much as you were worried about your long-term boyfriend Lucas Paqueta seeing this. You half naked pressed against another man; his best friend according to the concept photos you were given.

“I’ll just explain it to him later. He knows how much I hate him anyways!” You took a deep breath shaking off any negative thoughts you had lingering in your mind as you begun to get dressed.

It didn’t take long since all you had to put on was a pair of underwear, jeans, & a pair of nipple covers. Thankfully they ate last provided you with that seeing as how you felt as if you were about to film a porno.

You walked towards the mirror hands held on your breasts as you looked up and down at your attire embarrassed look melted onto your face. “Neymar Junior is going to see my boobs.” You muttered out, in disbelief.

“Neymar Junior is going to see, my boobs! As you took in the fact you begun to laugh uncontrollably at the irony of the situation, your arch enemy since your birth is going to be touching your boobs; a place only a select few were even allowed to see.

You wiped the small tears forming at the corner of your eyes due to excess laughter as you pulled out of your phone from your pocket feeling it vibrate from a text that read.“We’re ready for you.”

You sighed saying a small prayer before walking out of the change-room hands covering your chest, as the shoes you were wearing made noise the casting director along with Neymar turned their heads to look at you. “Woman of the hour!”

“Yeah.” You nervously chuckled as you slowly made your way to the edge of the set, despite taking literal baby steps you made it there in a shorter time than you’d like, as you stood there staring straight ahead right past Neymar’s eyes that didn’t leave your body.

“Did you look at the concept photos?” The casting director asked you as you completely zoned out all the background noises, your heart begun to pound as you took in that this was really happening.

“Yeah I did.” You muttered out as you turned your head slowly towards the director awkward smile on your face as you felt Neymar’s gaze being branded onto your skin.

“Well we’re scrapping that one, this is what the first pose will be.” The casting director handed you a photo face down already making you suspicious, when you flipped the photo your eyes nearly flew out of your sockets.

“What the fuck is this!” You whispered shouted in disbelief as to what you were seeing, not only were you going to be literally topless, Neymar’s head was going to be resting: on your breasts.

You hadn’t even noticed that his hands were going to be resting on your ass. “We are not filming a porno! You’ve gotta change this now.”

“This is what is going to sell. It sold back then it’ll sell now. Come one darling, just this once. For me.” He pleaded with you grabbing you by your shoulders.

“No! Not unless you pay me millions! Even if you can You’re gonna owe me. Big time. largely.” Hearing that the director smiled at you before ushering you onto the set where you stood awkwardly beside Neymar who had a stupid smirk on his face. “Alright places everyone.”

Once you heard that you grit your teeth and furrowed your eyebrows as you eased onto the floor of the set, you hesitated before crawling into Neymar’s lap hands hovering just centimetres away from his waist with him doing the same cringing away from your body.

Just before the photographer begun to take photos the director begun to yell once again,“Ugh no no no! Hands on her waist, hands on his waist, look seductive, look like you want to fuck each other!”

You grew goosebumps just hearing that as you muttered under your breath “ew”, you rolled yo ur eyes looking away from Neymar’s annoyed gaze, “This is an underwear company! you’re advertising underwear! hands off your sides and pose!”

“Don’t think I’m enjoying touching your repulsive body, I’m doing this because I have too.” He muttered under his breath emphasizing the “repulsive” making your skin crawl.

“Your breath stinks.” You replied pinching him in his side as hard as you could, seeing him wince in pain gave you a weird boost of satisfaction, as you both bickered with the occasional pinch coming his way you both tuned our the director till he yelled.

“I’m not paying you both millions to look like constipated scorpions! Positions! Now!” He yelled out using the paper in his hand to fan his forehead which was sweating quite heavily, hearing him be so angry out of nowhere frightened you enough to relax just enough to look natural.

Once you both had relaxed easing into each other the rest of the set had gone smoothly with minimal arguing from both of your sides; especially your side since you were quite literally topless. “Wonderful Job guys! Your cheque’s will be emailed to you shortly.”

Once the set was clearing out you stood there waiting for your robe to be handed to you as you shivered, the studio was a lot colder than you had realized. As you were standing around you noticed Neymar hadn’t left quite yet & he was looking a bit red.

“Ew, Are you blushing? I know I have great boobs, but no need to get embarrassed y’know? I’m sure your girlfriend—”

“My God, Will you just shut up?” Neymar shouted at you as he begun to scratch his skin, little blotches of red begun to show on his skin— not that you’d notice them of course.

“Shut up? Did you just tell me to shut up? Do you want me to rip your jaw off? Or did you forget who you were talking too? You turned your body to face him as you looked him up & down with disgust & annoyance in your eyes.

As you were cussing him out you didn’t even notice he hadn’t given you a snarky response back or just pushed pasted you like he always did confusing you, as you took a closer look at him you noticed he was developing a skin rash; hives.

“What the fuck? What type of rash are you developing?” You asked as you backed away wrapping your robe around your body tightly, watching him scratch his body frantically grossed you out enough to just leave the set & go back to your change-room.

Just before you were able to set foot into your room you heard a loud boom, along with a shriek alarming you greatly. As you rushed towards the noise you were met with Neymar breathing heavily on the floor with his assistant all over him trying to find out what was wrong.

A crowd gathered around him as some people were calling the ambulance while others were helping in anyway they could, as you stood there looking at him try to take in a breath you spun your heels turning back to your room.

“What the absolute fuck is going on?” You muttered out backing away from the crowd as you slipped back into your change-room slamming the door before locking it, you slid down the door trying to figure out why that was happening.

As you wondered it had finally hit you, recently you were gifted a body-care set that was based upon real strawberries giving you a long lasting strawberry scent all day— the only problem? Neymar was severely allergic to them.

TAGLIST: @watersquirtpewpewboomm @neymaruposts @aniya7 @foolsarehome @abluvions 💕 (send a reply to be added to the taglist!)

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[michibap]

1. ur hockey fic was AMAZING. 2. i was thinking abt a hockey!reader getting into a fight and schlatt cheering her on

-🥅

yes 😈

Jealousy Fic

idek if i can call these fics to be completely honest

tw: violence and being mean to men

Jealousy Whatever The Fuck I've Got Going On Ig

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⠀ ⋆.:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

-Schlatt knew coming into this that there were going to be times where you had to fall off of the face of the earth for a while

-he understood how much your sport meant to you, constantly reassuring you that he would never want to take you away from something that you held so dearly

-and while it was a sacrifice he was willing to make

-that doesn't mean it doesn't suck total ASS

-when the end of the season comes rolling around the corner, he barely gets by on the scraps of attention he can get

-whether it be sitting in on your practices, hanging out in your room while you nap, joining you and the team for post-practice meals

-Or showing up to your games over an hour early so he could snag his favorite seat, next to your team's penalty box

-which is where he finds himself now,

-content to camp out there for the remaining time until the game, doomscrolling reddit to keep himself entertained for the time being

-he glances up from his phone when the door to the rink opens, just in case of the off chance it was you coming in late (he knew you wouldn't dare)

-he still huffs a little and returns to his scrolling when he sees it was just another student, decked out in the university's merchandise

-his eyes are once again torn from the small screen when he sees the only other person in the auditorium come and take the seat right next to him in the corner of his eye

-what the fuck????

-he tries to ignore her as she frantically rustles through her bag, taking out a notepad and pen, before turning to him

"Hi!" she chirped, "I'm Sarah."

-jay's eyes dart from her outstretched hand to her face, doing everything in his power to make sure his face remains neutral

"...Hi?" he returns, unsurely reaching out and awkwardly shaking her hand

-failing to notice the way 'Sarah' blushes when his larger hand encompasses her own

"Hi," she breathes again

-schlatt doesn't bother hiding his judgmental expression now, pulling his hand out of hers and wiping it on his (your) sweats

-He frowns when she squeaks, shyly covering her mouth with her hand,

"Oh my god..." she mumbled, muffled by her hand, "This is so embarrassing, I'm sorry."

-he doesn't dignify that with a response

"I'm Sarah, I'm a new journalist for the university's athletic magazine." she explained, "Coach told me you'd be here, said you could answer some questions for me?" she finished hopefully, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth in anticipation of his answer

"Coach?" schlatt repeated, bewildered

-he didn't even know that motherfucker knew he existed

-and now he's volunteering him for shit?

"Yeah, I hope that's okay..."

-he sighed, pocketing his phone, "I mean... I guess, I don't really know shit about hockey, but I could tell you about the team."

-he can't help but give her another judgemental look when she claps her hands together and squeals, kicking her feet a little bit

"Perfect, thank you so much!"

-schlatt presses his lips into a thin line and gives her a short nod, watching as she holds up her notepad and pen, eagerly looking at him from over the ledge of her glasses

"Now, can you give me a quick rundown of the season so far?”

he blanches,

“You didn’t do any research before showing up today?”

she giggled and blushes, caught,

“I told you I’m new…”

-he spends the remaining time answering questions about the team, their positions and playing styles all while masterfully dodging anything that seemed a little too much like smalltalk

-actually cuts her off when the lights dim and your team's entrance song begins playing (LIVING DEAD GIRL?? RAHHHH)

-you follow the rest of your team out onto the ice, coming out at the tail end alongside the captain

-you're fuckign hype, grabbing your teammates helmets and shaking them, punching their shoulders, shoulder checking them

-Jay and Sarah watch as you make your way onto the ice, your presence impossible to be left unnoticed with your cocky grin, standing a solid head over half of your teammates

"Who is that?" Sarah asked, voice raised so jay could hear her over the roaring crowd, plucking her pen from behind her ear to scribble down your jersey number in her notepad

-schlatt sat up a little straighter, his chest puffing out in pride

"That's my girlfriend."

-once the national anthem begins, you're forced to settle, so you use the spare moment to search the crowd for a familiar set of muttonchops

-you eagerly sift through the many unrecognizable faces, but when you find him...

-your teammate nervously glances at you from the corner of her eye when she feels your energy shift

"Dude, what's your problem?"

-you don't respond, eyes dead set on their target, jaw clenching so hard she swears she can literally hear your teeth grinding

-she turns to see what's got you so pissed, letting out a low whistle when she spots it

-it's your mans

-which would usually be a normal occurrence

-if she hadn't caught him right at the wrong moment

-she catches him leaning down so the bird sitting next to him can whisper something in his ear

-when the anthem ends, she claps your shoulder with a laugh

"That's rough, bud."

-you don't respond, squaring your shoulders before you make your way over to the face off, bumping her shoulder hard enough to knock her off balance as you pass

-once you're in position you maintain a perfectly still stance, holding your stick firmly in position as you wait for the puck to inevitably be passed to you

-but you can't keep yourself from glancing to where you know jay is sitting

-he manages to catch your eyes when he turns his attention from the random sitting next to him to you

-his face lights up and he sends you an excited wave, and you can feel your lips trying to twitch into a grin

-but then you see sarah doing the same next to him

-his lips pull into a confused frown when your eyes narrow to send him a nasty glare before focusing back on the face-off at hand

-your efforts to focus are futile, whirlwinds of thoughts of "Who The Fuck Is That?" distracting you enough that you miss the puck shooting at you

-luckily, one of your teammates manages to recover it, you shoot after her with a frustrated curse

-the game begins to move pretty fast from the get-go, which you were expecting

-having been warned about aggressive and dirty players along with unsportsmanlike spectators

-usually, games like this were your speciality, coach keeping you on the ice for the majority of the game to act as an enforcer.

-and as excited as you were for a barnburner

-you were off your fucking game today

-you'd been kronwalled by a goddamn pylon

-let the other team's offensive nab the puck a handful of times

-fuck, you'd even let yourself get pokechecked

-after enough chippy comments from the team and a good amount of shouting from coach, he pulled you off the ice

-he didn't even say anything to you when you first got back back to the bench, leaving you to do nothing but stew as you cooled off, pouring some water on the top of your head for good measure

-after a beat of silence, you look up to find coach standing over you with a frown

"I don't know what the fuck your problem is."

he started, you only scoffed and rolled your eyes, rearing to defend yourself, but he cuts you off before you get the chance

"But those girls need you out there. They're wiping the fucking floor with you guys."

both of you pause to look back out at the ice as one of your defensemen is knocked off of her feet in what was obviously a foul play

"And I'll be damned if we lose in our own barn 'cause you can't keep your eyes off some fucking bird."

-your mouth snaps shut and you feel your face heat up, looking up at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to do now that you know you've been caught

-coach only sighs, disapprovingly shaking his head, but you can see him biting back a smile,

"Now get back out there and bring this shit home, you hear?"

-you rise back to your feet with a determined nod,

"Heard."

-your teammates on the ice send one another unsure looks when you step back out onto the ice, the captain pausing her conversation to make her way over to you,

"You better lock the fuck in," she hissed lowly, "Because if you plan on keepin' this hoser act up then you best get off my fuckin ice."

-her firm expression cracked a bit when you brought your gloved fist up to bump her own,

"Oh, baby," you start, a rogue grin spreading across your lips, revealing a sharp row of teeth, "I'm fucking locked."

-the rest of the game passes in a whirlwind (or maybe you just don't remember it because of how many times you rattled your brain)

-you spent the majority of it ducking low and hitting hard

-and swinging even harder

-with you back on the ice to keep the opposing team's goons at bay, your team had managed to bring the score back into their favor

-at the cost of you being sent to the penalty box what felt like every few minutes

-which would have usually been a highlight of your game, being allotted 2-5 minutes to chat up your boyfriend through the plexiglass

-but that wasn't the case today

-everyone in the rink knew what was coming when the pylon who had flattened you out earlier came lumbering up to where you and one of her teammates were getting in one another's faces

-you blanched when she came between you and her teammate, broad shoulders completely blocking the view of the other player, and you had to strain your neck a bit to look up at her

"Why don't you save some for me, pretty?" she cooed mockingly, "Been waitin' ta get my hands on you all night."

-never being one to back down (even if you should),

you straighten up and push further into her space, bumping chests before you bring up a hand to give her shoulder a rough shove

"Yeah?" you ask with another one of your brazen grins, "Do something."

-before you had the chance to think about the consequences of your actions, a large, gloved palm was pressed hard enough to your face that it sent you back on your ass, gliding across the ice with the force

-you stay on the ground for a moment, bewildered

-you glance up at your teammate, who is already looking down at you, equally horrified

-before chancing a glimpse into the crowd

-and much to your pleasure, you find yourself only a few feet away from where your boyfriend was watching with wide, worried eyes

-and the bitch sitting next to him with one hand clapped over her mouth,

the other gripping his forearm

-your lips curl into a snarl

-and you're pushing off the ice without another thought, dropping your gloves and tearing off your helmet before rushing to get your fingers twisted in the face guard of the pylon's helmet, taking her's off as well

-to add to the chaos, your teammate whom you had shared a look with grabs two fistfuls of the jersey of the player who you were originally getting into it with

-and before anyone had the chance to stop it, a full blown scuffle breaks out

-"Oh Shit."

-Jay finds himself on his feet, practically pressing his face to the plexiglass as he tries to find you in the midst of the riot on the ice

"What? What's happening??" Sarah asked from behind him, before coming up beside him,

"Can you please explain what's going on?" she whined, looking up at him with pleading eyes and a helpless pout

-Schlatt's lips curl into a scowl of his own,

-this girl has been on his back the ENTIRE fucking game

-trying to ask stupid fucking questions

-which, usually, would be okay

-he doesn't know jack shit about the game

-he asks you stupid questions all the time

-but throughout the entirety of the game, she'd not only been asking pointless questions, but trying to draw his attention away from the game with inane small talk

-and with a deep breath, he prepares to tear her a new one

"Isn't it your fucking job to have the slightest clue-"

-his rant is cut short by a loud THUD, both of them flinching away from the plexiglass

-where the pylon's bruised face is firmly pressed, squishing her features into the barricade for the spectators to see, smearing blood on the plexiglass

-Jay's eyes travel from the bruised face to the familiar hand knotted into the hair at the base of the player's skull, trailing up the strong arm holding her in place, over your heaving chest, all the way up to your face

-sweat sticking a few strands of your hair to your forehead and the side of your face

-your cheekbone has a splotch already blooming into a deep purple, and there's blood seeping from your nose, pouring over your lips and dripping from your chin onto your previously pristine jersey

-when he finally meets your eyes, they're already dead set on him, and he shudders

-he's rather you be glaring, snarling, gnashing your teeth, pounding on the glass and screaming at him, spittle flying from your mouth as you cuss him out

-instead, you meet him with a blank, steady stare, pupils blown out and sharklike with adrenaline

-he finds himself frozen under your gaze, unable to drag his eyes away from you, the same way a deer is unable to drag it's eyes from a car's headlights

-another second passes, but it could have been an eternity

-with a final push into the glass, you release the pylon's hair, letting her collapse to the ground as you turn your back to the crowd and making your way back to the center of the ice to watch as the brawl dies down

-as soon as the referees are no longer occupied with pulling players away from each other, you're sent to the penalty box

-you can feel jay's eyes on you as you make your way over

-but you keep your gaze dead set on the girl sitting next to him

-relishing in the way her face pales and she squirms the longer you stare

-the eye contact only breaks when you open the door and step into the penalty box

-you remain standing at attention, intensely watching the game carry on without you as you pointedly ignore... whatever the fuck it is that's going on on the side of you

-neither of them acknowledged you at first, both sitting ramrod straight and entirely focused on the game

-it doesn't last long though, you can feel the strange chick's eyes on you before she leans in, seemingly to ask another question, keeping her eyes set on you

-but you can just barely hear the lilt of her voice paired with the deeper timber of jay's over the sound of the audience and the ongoing game

-you couldn't help but sneak a glance from the corner of your eye

-and watch as schlatt plucks her notepad and pencil out of her small hands so he could scribble down something himself before handing it back to her

-your nostrils flare and your fists clench by your sides as you try to take a few deep breaths to cool yourself down before you step back onto the ice

-whatever conversation they were having was cut short by the door to the penalty box slamming closed with a resounding BANG, loud enough that they could both feel vibration in their seats

-and Jay knows he's fucked.

-capital F Fucked

-he knows damn well that having Sarah next to him was an objectively bad look

-and goddammit

-he TRIED to shake her but she just wouldn't quit

-he'd tried giving her dry answers, ignoring her, pointing out other people she could badger, taking her notepad to write things down himself and cross out whatever he deemed to be useless

-but she just Would Not leave him alone

-the one thing he hadn't tried was simply getting up and walking away, but that was out of question

-because it risked both him losing her seat, and her following him

-he can't even enjoy the rest of the game, anxiously brewing in all of the potential consequences of something that wasn't even his fault

-kind of...

-he knew he could have told her to fuck off right off the bat

-but as a fellow student employee, part of him couldn't help but sympathize with her, knowing how the university likes throwing poor, unassuming student employees right into the deep end

-so he was really caught between a rock and a hard place here

-and he fucking KNOWS you're pissed

-shit

-everyone in the fucking rink knew you were pissed

-and he's left with nothing but his anxiety and his new parasite to keep him company

˖⁺‧₊˚🎧☁️🕶️ ˚₊‧⁺˖

-when the game finally comes to a close, Jay is elated to find that your team has won, though he wasn't too sure of how

-either way, he's happy to watch the team celebrate, though his victorious spirit deflates a bit when his eyes land on you (as they usually do)

-you don't even crack a smile as your team rushes you, ruffling your hair, shaking your shoulders

-it's at that moment he decided he Needs to redeem himself

-ESPECIALLY if HE was the reason you weren't basking in the glory of your (probably) well deserved win

-he abruptly stands from his seat, before wordlessly shoving his way through the crowd, ignoring the angry grumbles and the occasional "What the hell!"s from the other spectators attempting to file out of the rink

"Hey! Where're we going?" he hears a grating voice from behind him

-he glances over his shoulder and sees none other than Sarah, attempting to follow him through the crowd, having a significantly harder time due to her lack of height advantage

-but she somehow manages to tail him all the way to the entrance of the hallway leading to the locker rooms, where he usually waits for you

-he's actually about to turn around and actually tell her to fuck off, but is interrupted by your rowdy team passing by

-some acknowledge him as he passes, others are too caught up in one another to give him a second thought

-you follow behind at the tail end of the train of players, somehow more daunting than usual

-along with your usual imposing stature, you're still riding the high of an adrenaline filled victory, standing tall as steam rolls off of you as a result of your high body temperature clashing with the cold of the rink

-he almost gets too caught up in the sight of you to catch your attention before you make your way back into the locker rooms

-but he seemingly doesn't have to

-he turns to Sarah with wide eyes when she excitedly shouts your name, frantically calling you over

-Jay watches your head whip to look their direction, and your eyes dart between himself and Sarah

-before you change your path and make your way towards the two of them

-once you're stood in front of them, Sarah immediately gets to rambling before he has the chance to say anything

"Hey! You guys were great today! I'm so happy to be here, I'm a new journalist for the university's athletics magazine. I was really hoping-"

-but you clearly aren't listening, and neither is Jay

-instead, he intently watches as you bring a gloved hand up to your mouth and bite down on the middle finger so you could drag your hand out of it, before letting it fall to the ground

-Sarah's rambling is cut short as she watches schlatt almost immediately bend down to pick it up

-her eyes dart to watch the way you drag a possessive hand over his head as he stands back up to his full height, before finally landing on you

-she gulps when she finds your gaze already firmly planted on her, a wolfish smile spread across your face as you observe her

"Whaddaya want, an autograph?" you ask with a condescending smile

-this time, it's Sarah who isn't given the chance to respond, because you're already reaching forward to pluck the pencil from where she had it tucked behind her ear, and snatching the notepad out of her hand

-all she can do is watch as you scribble your obnoxiously large signature over the majority of the notes she had taken for her article about the game

-you send her a cheeky wink before pocketing her pencil and handing Schlatt her notepad before sauntering off,

"Thanks fer comin'! It's always nice meeting fans." you call over your shoulder

-and all your boyfriend can do is hand her back her notebook with an embarrassed sigh before trailing after you like a lost puppy

˖⁺‧₊˚🎧☁️🕶️ ˚₊‧⁺˖

-he spends half an hour waiting outside of the locker room for you

-sending your teammates a tight lipped smile when they walk past him, some of them snickering and whispering to one another, others bidding him good luck

-he's left with nothing to do but plot on how he'll re-enter your good graces once he sees you

-though, he hasn't fully fleshed out his plan by then

-he barely gets the chance to look up from where he was scrolling on the weather app when he hears the locker room door open, followed by a flurry of heavy footsteps quickly approaching him

-before he knows it, he's being grappled by the front of his sweatshirt and pressed up into the wall, held up more by the force pinning him than his toes, which were the only part of him still grounded

"You wanna tell me what the fuck that was?"

-your voice is dangerously low, leaning in close enough that only he could hear you, he could feel your own slightly tacky cheek sticking to his own

-his hands instinctively come up to grab your wrists in an attempt to pull them off of him

"W-What? What The hell're you tal-"

-he's cut off by you using your grip on his sweater to pull him slightly away from the wall, just to shove him back into it before pressing further into his space, trapping him between yourself and the cool concrete

"Don't play stupid with me, who the fuck was that?"

-he turns his head away from you to nervously look around the hall for bystanders, but his gaze is wrenched back to you by a strong hand gripping his cheeks, forcing his lips into a pout

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." you hiss through gritted teeth

-he pauses for a moment to take you in, hair damp from the shower he knows you took to cool off after the game

-but upon seeing the way your cheeks were still ruddy, and your pupils were still blown out, he could tell that you were still wired with post-game adrenaline

-and, against his better discretion

-he decides to poke the bear

"What's it to you?"

-he finds his lips curling into a toothy smile of his own as he watches your eye twitch and your jaw clench

"You don't have my full attention for three fucking days so you, what? Whore yourself out to the first chick that'll look in your direction?"

-schlatt scoffs, "Whore myself out? What is this, the twelfth cen-"

-he's once again cut off, this time by you coming closer to press your chest against his, leaning in close enough that he can feel your lips brush against the same ear Sarah had been whispering into throughout the game

"What's the matter, baby? 'm I not paying enough attention to you, hm?" you hum, bringing one hand to gently pet the back of his head, before knotting your fingers into it and pulling his head back, granting you access to trail your lips along the expanse of his neck as you mumble to him

-he struggles to come up with another witty response, but his mind goes blank as he gasps at the sensation of one of your legs bullying it's way between his own,

"You could've just asked me, y'know. What's her face couldn't give you half of what I could, anyways."

"S-Sarah."

-pause.

-he feels you freeze before he sees it, muscles going rigid where he had snuck his hands under the hem of your shirt

-before you're pulling away, hands leaving his hair to trail down to his hips, where they grip hard enough to bruise

-you pull back, eyes intensely searching his face, as though checking if he had really dared-

"Her name was Sarah." he doubles down with a shit eating grin

-he watches your nostrils flare and a vein in your neck pop,

-but before you have the chance to retaliate, the locker room door opens

-Jay blushes when you only crane your neck to look over your shoulder, rather than pulling away from where you have him trapped

-you scowl when you see coach saunter out of the locker room with a smug grin of his own

-you push away from schlatt and begin to make your way down the hallway to leave,

-leaving him to lean against the wall to support himself, legs left in a jelly-like state, and pulling his sweatshirt down to hide his poor hard peen :(

-coach only laughs with a shake of his head as he walks past,

"Good work out there today, killer.

We wouldn't have gotten this win today without you."

˖⁺‧₊˚🎧☁️🕶️ ˚₊‧⁺˖

i didn't know how to finish this but here you are

hope u enjoyed

fuckinuhhhh sorry for being gone for a little bit i was Busy

ok later

[nobodyfamousposts]

My-Crack-Ulous: Norm 2

For Norm, most of his time with Lila was spent studying up on the events of the past few years and the current state of Paris in order to get up to date. 

For Lila, most of her time with Norm was spent trying to find the perfect way to make her wishes so they wouldn’t keep backfiring.

Which was hilarious to Norm, since her attempts only made things worse.

“One of these wishes is bound to work!” Lila insisted, starting to look almost as haggard and unhinged as a certain crock-pot.

Norm rolled his eyes.

Geez, he was just kind of insulted by this point. One would think after the first two wishes going completely wrong that the wish-maker would put one and two together and give up by that third wish.

Here Lila Rossi was a good hundred or so wishes PAST that magic number and she was STILL insisting that Ladybug and Dupain-Cheng—who totally aren’t the same person wink wink—were responsible for turning her wishes against her. Somehow, for the girl who liked to think she was so ingenious, she hasn’t figured out that it was his own magic screwing with her.

Honestly, he was kind of insulted. It was like she didn’t even KNOW him!

…which she didn’t, now that he thought about it. He’d barely gotten out that he was a genie before she started on the wishing. 

Not like he was going to do anything to change that, though, but still! He felt kind of used. Maybe he should talk to her about it? She was still young—only a teenager and probably deserved a chance to learn and grow or something.

…nah.

“You’re doing great, kid.” He said blithely as he looked over a news article instead.

Apparently Dimmsdale had vanished from the face of the Earth as far as he could find, so either Turner had done something or he was in an entirely different dimension. Either way, twerp was gone and not his problem.

Thus, he instead used his time wisely—or at least more wisely than his new victim at any rate. As such, he decided to take the time to learn about how things worked before he tried to mess around too much. Particularly regarding these heroes and the whole “Hawk Moth” deal. Maybe he should have tried more to get in touch with that guy, but given some of those “akumas” he’d been making….yeah, no, Norm was better off staying out of that.

Though the Miraculous seemed familiar. He could swear he encountered them before. Hadn’t he known a guy? Cat guy? 

Eh, it was a while ago. Probably nothing.

He picked up the next random reading material in the pile and…ooh, a magazine. He ignored Lila muttering to herself while looking over the magazine and…wow, this blond kid really was everywhere, wasn’t he?

Creepy. Seriously, was he the only one kind of weirded out over the hyped up over focus on a 14 year old? 

No? Just him?

Lila glared at him. Part of her was tempted to try and demand answers, but that would be admitting there was some issue. And there was none!

She was fine! Perfect, in fact! Now she had her own genie and magic to influence the world with! The only problem was she couldn’t use it on Ladybug.

Clearly, this was Ladybug’s fault. She must be doing SOMETHING to interfere with her new magic!

Typical. She just couldn’t let Lila have anything good. Not Adrien. Not fame. Not even the crushing defeat of her enemies.

But Lila would prevail—oh yes! All she had to do was find the right wish to get everything she deserved!

"Soon." She muttered with a smirk. "Soon..."

____________________

I wish everyone, including Ladybug, believed I was her best friend!"

Three days later and nothing.

Ladybug didn't come to visit her. She didn't interact with her outside of battles. Or even IN battles except to tell her to stay out of the battles. And nobody new was cozying up to Lila in a way that would suggest they were under the effects of her wish.

"What gives?!" She demanded to Norm, finally having enough of waiting. Though to be fair, Lila had never been very patient. "Why isn't Ladybug being friendly with me?"

She glared at the picture of the superhero on her computer. No updates. No news. Nothing out of character. And no sign of even caring about Lila the way she should!

"If Ladybug thought I was her best friend, shouldn't she be friendly towards me? Hell, she should be spilling her identity to me by now!”

Norm, being rather bored by this point, shrugged. Truthfully, even he didn't know for sure why the superhero remained unchanged, but he had a few gueses.

"Well, your wish didn't take into account who Ladybug is."

"What is THAT supposed to mean?!" She demanded.

He sighed. "Kid, your wish made Ladybug think you were her best friend. The only reason she wouldn't tell you her identity would be because she wouldn't tell her own non-wish-influenced best friend her identity."

"Shouldn't she have trusted me with a Miraculous at least?" She questioned.

"Not if Ladybug was understandably ticked off that her "best friend" would claim a connection between them to the world for popularity and decide she's not trustworthy or a true friend." Norm replied. People don't always stay best friends, after all. And while the wish may have made Ladybug think Lila was her best friend in the moment, all the OTHER things Lila had done would likely sour that quickly.

So ultimately, a waste of a wish.

Then of course, came the other problem of that wish…

“Tell us who Ladybug is or else!” Demanded the scarred and nasty-looking man, knife in hand and pointed directly at Lila.

Lila, who had been kidnapped from school that afternoon by this thug and his followers, tied to a chair, and interrogated on the one thing she would already have told everyone had she known!

“I don’t know!” Lila insisted.

“Bullshit! You’re her best friend!”

“As Ladybug! She hasn’t told me her true identity!”

Another thug scoffed. “What kind of best friend are ya, then?”

She glared at him in outrage.

Fortunately for her, that moment was interrupted as an akuma chose that time to slam through a wall a la a certain American meme.

“Lila Rossi!”

The thugs screamed in fear and either scattered or were knocked over by the falling wall. The few who remained were quickly taken care of with a zap or three from the akuma’s wand.

Thank goodness!

“Finally! It’s about time—”

But the akuma gave her no further time to speak, instead pointing his wand at her and glaring ominously.

“Tell us who Ladybug is or else.”

Lila stared.

Was the akuma serious? Was Hawk Moth serious? They were allies! He should know she isn’t actually Ladybug’s friend or anything close to an ally, so why was he sending the akuma after her?

…oh.

Oh right. The wish she made was for “Everyone”. And that included Hawk Moth, too.

“NORM!”

____________________

“I wish Ladybug would be crushed by an akuma!”

One hour later... Lila watched, seething in rage through binoculars as the akuma "Lady-Fan”, Ladybug’s apparent “#1 Fan” was taking Ladybug on a rather lovely date to a high scale restaurant the likes of which Lila herself couldn't get into.

Even Hawk Moth appeared none-too-pleased given the illuminated mask around the akuma’s face—not that the akuma herself even noticed, only having eyes for Ladybug and not about to let anything stand between her and some one-on-one time with her favorite hero.

Which would be sweet…to anyone who wasn’t Lila.

“Norm, undo it!”

Norm looked up from a movie—the Ladybug movie of all things.

“You sure you wanna use a wish on this? It’s an akuma. It’ll just be resolved on its own.”

“UnDO it. NOW.”

He sighed and snapped his fingers.

With a poof, Ladybug was suddenly alone with a very much no-longer-akumatized fan…but still in the restaurant—and since no Lucky Charm had been used, the two apparently decided to continue with their “hangout”.

Lila glared.

“There. Happy?” Norm asked.

“No! Not until Ladybug is destroyed!” Lila shouted, seemingly uncaring to the potential of anyone nearby being able to hear her.

Norm rolls his eyes before turning back to his movie with a shake of his head and a mutter about a waste of a wish.

[thinkingofchishiya]

kpopidol!reader x chishiya pls!

also, good luck in writing fics :)

Thank you my love, i’m actually having a lot of fun with it so far!! Hope you like this 🤍 feel free to spam my inbox if you have any more ideas

Chishiya x kpopidol! reader headcannons

warnings: brief mention of potential ED, slight angst at the end

•when you first arrived at the beach chishiya had no idea who you were, k-pop isn’t exactly his specialty sure he’d heard a few songs but he wasn’t exactly knowledgeable

•it wasn’t until he saw the stares and whispers of other residents that he realised there was something special about you, it was kuina who excitedly informed him who you were

•in response he rolled his eyes saying being a celebrity in this world was meaningless, but he had to admit you were beautiful and just couldn’t tear his eyes from you, he felt annoyingly drawn in by you and he couldn’t figure out why.

•However it was his attitude towards you that made you like him, constantly being stared at and gawked over got tiring real fast but chishiya made you feel normal - he treated you like a regular person and the two of you quickly got quiet close

•especially after the jack of hearts, the two of you teamed up and aced the game together

•the other players at the beach were confused by the unlikely duo- cold conniving chishiya who barely spoke to anyone and the idol anyone would be blessed to talk to even for a moment. They thought it was unfair and confusing - how did him of all men garner so much of your attention ?

•him noticing your strict eating patterns and making sure you’ve always had a decent sized meal. The industry was strict on their idols and chishiya knew that but he wouldn’t have it +

+ when you accuse him of caring about you with a grin, he scoffs a “you wish” and rolls his eyes, but what you don’t see is the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears burn pink when he turns around beginning to walk away from you

•one time on his way back from a game he stopped in a 7/11 , and he saw you on the cover of an old magazine with your group

•sneakily picking up the magazine as if anyone was around, he flicked to find the page you were on. Titled “ group/name to come to shibuya for 2 nights in may” you were scheduled to be on tour performing when you arrived here.

•After this he started having angstier thoughts about you, how unfair it was that a girl like you who worked so hard to have it all was stuck in a place like this. Not only because you were famous but because you were sweet, not build for the borderlands in his eyes

•Despite his initial thoughts on you not being special, he now wanted nothing more than to protect you

•however what chishiya didn’t realise is your hard training for hours on end made you incredibly fit - games like spades especially were ones you mastered in

•chishiya secretly listening to your songs in his earphones and actually enjoying them, k-pop from your group alone his guilty pleasure

•listens intently whenever kuina begs you to tell her stories from your time with the group as you giggle at her interest

•likes watching you dance and sing, especially on drunk nights when you and the beach were extra hyped after a winning round of games

•when you guys start dating he worships you and your physique, always keeping an arm around your waist as you walk through the beach to smugly show you off

•loves getting under niragi’s jealous skin, brings you up during executive meetings just to piss him off

__________________________________

alternate pre-borderlands angst bonus

•You’d been with chishiya for two years when one day he comes home from work to tell you about a young girl he’s had to perform surgery for multiple times

•she was a terminally ill patient and while it wasn’t chishiya’s job to arrange things for the make a wish organisation, he knew he had to get you to meet her when she mentioned being a huge fan of your group

•he rarely exchanged details about his personal life with patients, except for when it came to children and young teens. Speaking about his beloved partner he let your name slip , “y/n like the idol from g/n?” this is when chishiya felt extra proud to be with you as he explained , “yeah, actually her”

•the patient squeeled and this was happiest he’d ever seen her “no way! that’s so cool doctor shiya!”

• “she’s gorgeous, you’re so lucky!” and his smug grin in response “i know”

•after talking to you about it you agreed withought hesitation to meet the girl, it turns out you were her bias

•the meeting went well with many hugs and laughs exchanged as you spent time learning about her, chishiya even joining to stay for a little bit instead of working as he had a free moment

•you liked staying at the hospital as it meant being closer to shiya on his busy days but you never had an excuse to be there, on this day though you ended up staying with the girl for hours until the day was almost over

•when chishiya came in you were sitting by his patient giving her a final hug as the credits rolled for your groups tour movie on the hospital room’s television

•when it was time for you to leave together and go home, you barely made it to the car before bursting into uncontrollable sobs

•chishiya held you silently rubbing your back with your face in his chest as you let it all out, “it’s not fair!” you sobbed “,i know…i know” what you didn’t see was the way he fought back prickling tears that stung his eyes and the burning ache he felt in his chest

•this patient was his worst loss yet and the pain that was usually easier to hide was now tripled as you cried in his arms

•just two weeks later you were informed of her passing, her family had written a letter to chishiya thanking him for looking after their daughter in her short time and for his incredible act of kindness by getting you to meet her in what they described as “the best day of her little life”

•shortly after you were trending in the news with your pictures all over the papers, being held by your group on stage at a concert as you cried during the girl’s favourite song. You requested a replay and dedicated it in her name

•the two of you even attended her funeral, wearing what you learned was her favourite colour

a/n: i loved this request thank you so much anon!! It was gonna be something cutesy and light but the opportunity arose to write my first angst, hope i did well !! i really appreciate feedback and comments

[throwaway-yandere]

What HaPpEneD aT 10:10? (Yandere!"Gepard Landau"/Reader)

Scriptwriter's Note: I implore you to remember what happened at 10:10. And once you do, come talk to three of my associates. For now, let her help you recall what's going on in the present time. You can remember the time, but we need you to remember the murder weapon, who killed who, and the motive.

Synopsis: Trapped in Serval Landau’s basement for so long, you made a deal with the Sampo to escape confinement. As it turns out, your timing is never impeccable. Aka: a Belobog "murder" mystery. (A/n: ansy here, have fun trying to guess what happened! But please. PLEASE do not read this if you're sensitive to the topics below ⬇)

CW: Yandere and horror themes, "most unreliable narrator AND reader ever" - sam, violence, amputation, mentions of domestic (physical) abuse. His smile is stiff as a board. There’s a portal at the end of the story, your choices matter (there are 2 possible endings). Welcome to the Back Alley.

A murder was announced to occur on Saturday, October 2, at the Golden Theater’s back alley, around 10:10 AM.

It was an unidentified note. Short and crudely pasted cutouts from old magazines were its contents. Many believe the Astral Express put it together as a twisted joke. It’s no coincidence that the clocks' little hands near the theater were also forever stuck at 10:10. No one took it seriously. Additionally, a nearby bookshop used this opportunity to "hype" its mystery books by joining the bandwagon. While the Silvermane Guards officially took the "threat" as if it didn't exist, others transformed it into an event by creating crime scene props with March 7th and Stelle serving as the main judges.  

Who'd even investigate such a note when the Golden Theater doesn’t have a back alley?

By 5:00 AM, that silly note was not at the forefront of the Silvermane Guards' minds.

It was you.

Sampo shakily exhaled a quick "heya, friend," as his legs continued to speed past the Silvermane Guards, who were all very much ready to fire. The merchanr was forced to inhale sharply and slightly elevate his voice as he worriedly fixed his attention on his 'package.' 

"Y-You're good, aren't you?" 

Inside the shopping cart (who knows where he got that) he had been pushing was a wanted person. A bit feverish, you nodded without much commitment. Even the slightest movements relieved the dubious merchant as he picked up the pace, avoiding the stray "warning" shots that were fired near.

Today, you didn't awaken in the house where you were held captive. There were no mechanical noises or loud drilling. However, your morning did begin with your flesh awkwardly molding against the metal grid patterns of the shopping cart. There was no complaining when you realized it was your old friend Sampo who had carried and set you down. You didn't even consider asking this man where he was taking you.

Days earlier, he had paid you a covert visit and explained his strategy. So you concluded that he was the one who made the "false" murder announcement public. He also implied that little Hook made the note. Your gut tells you that even while it makes sense to assume that she is the author of that absurd announcement, it doesn't seem to be the truth. But at that point, your fears of being tubed with immoral equipment vanished and you felt gratitude rather than alarm. Not that you'd ever figure out that I made it, anyways.

"S-Sampo…" You groaned, not moving from your position as your friend fished out his homemade bombs from his pocket. "W-Where are you taking me…?"

Anywhere is better than her basement.

"To Nat, of course!" You needn't tilt your head to know that he was smiling wide. "Is there any other doctor more reliable than Miss Natasha?"

You'd insensitively joke about Vache Harrower, but your strength betrays you. Not like he'd give you a chance to drop some smart-alecks when he timed his bombs right. 

Just a few short seconds after, your best friend rolled his smoke bombs on the floor and made a larger dash. You heard a tremendous boom from the back, and a silent malicious voice in your skull hoped for injuries.

They worked with her.

Jolting you up, Sampo made one swift left turn and another to the right, making sure that the last remaining guards that trailed you both were lost in the haze. He didn't stop running, but you can tell he's getting tired. Sampo is a merchant, not the sister of the ex-Captain of the Silvermane Guards.

Your nose scrunched.

Serval Landau… that paranoid woman and lousier liar…

The oldest Landau used to be your best friend along with Pela. She had treated you as though you were Gepard's twin at times, much to your discomfort. Even her parents referred to you as their kin. 

Since you had no one to care for you as a child, the Landaus happily raised you. Had you not rejected their offers for adoption, your life certainly wouldn't be where it is now. 

Back "home", Serval would make suggestions that you were more of a Landau than she’d ever be. In turn, you’d cock your head and look unamused. Then act more like one, you’d reply. Yet these forceful encouragements do not reach her.

Even when you beg her to let you out of the house, she won’t let you.

We’ve been over this before, she’d reply. I can’t let you out on your own. You’re missing your right leg, what if that man finds you? 

You’ve never understood that logic. Who was she referring to, your old boss?

Her brother died a year ago.

You once liked him. You'd even go out of your way to say he was worthy of anyone's trust. 

Was. That was before you knew that deep in the recesses of his mind that loyalty was the beginning and end of Captain Gepard Landau's character. Uniting men under his leadership, he sought only the best for his beloved Belobog.

Your mind drives memories of Gepard away and you can no longer remember what transpired to cause this. After all, you undoubtedly considered Serval and Lynx to be sisters, but you never thought of him as a brother. You can't exactly pinpoint why you treated him like that since the very beginning.

Based on your shattered memories, you were stripped away of your position as his aide. Serval claimed it was because you didn't harbor traits of self-preservation. She made a show of how unreliable you were on the field, that you were hysterical and a "liability." Their relentless critique went on for half an hour until the higher-ups had given in to her demands. 

Worse, they permitted her to surveil your movements 24/7. Using your amputated leg as an excuse, she effectively put you on house arrest– not your home, but hers. She's not an effective caretaker either, despite her attempts. Serval's use of transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation is far more brutal than what a normal practitioner would do, but no one can hear your complaints except for Molly. Her tests are never comfortable. And you loathe this.

She acted like your loss of a leg turned you into damaged goods that only the siblings can see value in. That her giving you a prosthetic was a sign of love rather than a shackle.

They said you were “hysterical”, and that you should be forgiven for whatever sin you’ve committed.

Insulting.

Insulting. Insulting. Insulting.

"H-How closer are we to the underground?" You gripped the cart, your heart racing at the speed.

Sampo coughed after accidentally inhaling his smoke.

“S-Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t change the direction of the cart–”

“What?!”

“The cart won’t turn!!!” Sampo screamed.

With each passing second, the gap between the cart and the theater narrowed. Your heart raced as this was your first experience of real danger after being sheltered for a year or so. Even though you were aware that Sampo had no control over the impending crash, you still glanced at him expectantly.

He smiled, drop-dead nervous and boyishly sheepish.

"Give me two minutes!!!"

"Give me two minutes, Captain!!! We still need a few more."

You beamed, holding your axe to chop wood for your comrades in the Outlying Snow Plains. 

At first, you weren't trusted with heavy weapons. Luckily, being "weak" is a curable ailment for everyone. And the cure is called hard work and extreme effort. That, and an axe. 

You were the very definition of a model soldier and he found himself incredibly lucky to finally see you join the Silvermane Guards. You had an excellent posture; you were a sharpshooter and a wonderful axeman– even your breathing looks rehearsed.

And for a damn good reason.

When the Height's economy sneezes, the underground catches a cold.

Unfortunately, that means children as young as you were had to bear the flames.

The Landau parents had taken a shine to you after taking you as a servant from the orphanage. Your captain's father adored you, even though his never-smiling voice had not once indicated his affection. Captain Gepard bears resemblances from his old man in appearance but not his military demeanor; you were the one to hold that torch. 

It was through Mr. Landau you learned how much metrics and timings make a difference between an animal and a human being. You grew from someone who skitters away dynamically like a gas particle to a person grounded with instructions on how each step in a stride must be measured to perfection. Growing up with the Landaus was by no means a happy life, but it made you more keen on what constitutes "proper living." 

To you, being hit by vases and chairs for failing to fold Mr. Landau's clothes in exactly the way he wants them to be was preferable to dying in the streets with your grandmother with nothing to fill your stomach other than the restaurant trash cans nearby. And you were certain you brought more pride and joy to Mr. and Mrs. Landau than you had to your parents who had abandoned you since birth. 

People see Mr. Landau when they look at you and not Gepard.

But that's only because they have never seen the way you behave when it's only you and the Landau siblings are together.

“Working hard, I see,” Gerard said in a light joking manner.

You scratched your neck, embarrassed.

“Nah, I’m actually very lazy.”

“Don’t be so self-effacing,” Gepard smiled kindly. “I don’t miss anything. I’ve heard that you’ve made your rounds and even took on some of Pela’s duties while she’s on leave.”

“Eh, we both know I wouldn’t have done it without Pela begging me to do it for her Tales of– nevermind, Captain.”

Gepard had always viewed your abilities with the greatest reverence and approval. Serval was always quick to emphasize how her "favorite non-blood related sibling" is an "uninhibited performer" before everyone else, so Gepard thought this true in every aspect. You must think of this as writing a song to keep your mind sharp. You lose any sense of reservation once in “the zone”, and if Serval fell for the way your brows furrowed when penning down tunes and lyrics, Gepard faltered when he saw the glint in your eye as you pieced all the information needed to catch Sampo Koski’s whereabouts after your promotion. 

He had never told you this, but Gepard always felt weird sensations pooling in his chest whenever he saw you hyper-focused on something.

Or someone.

“Do you think I can catch him, Geppie?”

Gepard ruffled your hair and your face brightened up.

"Never falter, (Y/n),” he said firmly. “For I wholeheartedly believe in your strengths. Catching Sampo Koski will be a walk in the park for someone like you."

To think that your first caught infamous criminal is your last true friend… Destiny surely toys with those who say “That’ll never happen.” It's always a fun phenomenon to write a script about.

“Walk in a park”? Try “crash in a theater”.

“SAMPO!!!”

You yelped, clawing his shirt and yanking his upper body like a wild animal. His heels screeched as the cart faced the direction of the Golden Theater.

And what nestled near the Golden Theater was its Back Alley, a place that exists on the border between reality and myth. Whispers among children weave tales that those who enter the depths are trapped in a journey of confronting their unresolved trauma and guilt. It is believed that the alley acts as another dimension where the lost must face their inner demons before emerging back into the real world, scarred forever by the distorted horrors they have confronted.

And for the first time in your life, you saw it.

You saw a fence that was never there before.

Your heart dropped.

“SAMPO!!!”

He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact alongside you.

Sampo Koski lived by a particular quote: "True happiness always entails the manifestation of the dignity of mankind,”

And only a few knew that it's only 1/3 of the full quote. The next part includes: “and true guilt is the catalyst for self-reflection and the pursuit of redemption–" 

Flickering street lights and unmoving 10:10 clocks cast eerie shadows of dawn. It’s said that the people who traverse its trails encounter manifestations of their inner turmoil, a reflection of their deepest regrets. Some emerge transformed, carrying newfound clarity, while others head on a downward spiral. 

He wondered which one you would be.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n).”

Sampo smirked…

And let go of the cart.

“But the Back Alley is waiting for you.”

His hands, calloused but clean, tenderly held yours. You felt ice even without a metal ring wrapped around his finger. At that thought, you blinked.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Yes, dear?"

"You don't have a ring on you," you said with an unreadable expression. "Will we ever have a chance at getting married?"

You thought it was funny; he didn't.

We.

What did you mean by “we”?

Him and you?

Or you and someone else?

Surely you and him, right?

But is that really an idea that he needs to know?

The Supreme Guardian was right.

Doubt breeds arrogance.

“W-Well–” Gepard’s breath hitched, awkwardly fumbling his cuffs. “I don’t know about that.”

You muttered. “So the future's uncertain.” 

“Of course.”

“Hmm.”

He gulped, realizing that you were mad at his response.

But he can’t let any of this continue any longer.

“(Y/n), I have something I’d like to tell you…”

“Nghh….”

You heard the shopping cart roll towards a wall– must be the same one you crashed onto. As you caught a glimpse of your surroundings, you were astounded to see how foggy it was. The wall-mounted advertisement for a love-matching service is hardly visible. It was impossible to see past the surrounding streetlight, even with "un-smoke bombed" eyes. 

Doesn’t look like you’re in the administrative district.

You cannot see a single familiar building from this fog.

No heaters in sight and your breath practically singed your throat. The fog prickled your skin, but for reasons unknown, you did not shudder as a feverish man would’ve. Strangely enough, you felt fine.

You tried squinting at the road again.

Your heart dropped.

... There was no road.

You can't tell if it's the snow and the fog– but there's no pavement towards the exit in sight. It's as if wherever you stood floated. It was a literal dead end. As you peaked into the cliff, you did not see the bottom.

There was nothing there.

Even if you tried jumping, you weren't sure if there would be anything to fall on.

Capable arms wrapped themselves around your form. They were far stronger than your eyelids, which would barely open. Semi-automatically, your hand reached for this person’s shoulder, attempting to reposition yourself from their hold. You can barely make out their face, but their hair was slightly darker. This stranger lacked the envy-inspiring golden allure that the Landaus have.

Not processing that information fast enough, you spoke.

“S-Sampo, wh-what happened–”

You went pale.

No.

No.

No.

You pushed this "man" aside and dropped to the ground, barely maintaining balance on your one remaining leg. The man has now grown to be a towering figure over you, his star-bright eyes peering at you, paranoid. The air felt heavy, laden with a palpable sense of the unknown. Only the sound of your lonesome "real" foot scurrying away broke the silence.

“A-Are you alright?! W-What’s wrong....? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The man sauntered closer. His light but lifeless eyes locked onto yours, piercing through your soul. He had dirty blonde hair and he wore a sweater similar to the one that you never got to give to your best friend's younger brother, but–

“G-Gepard…?!?!”

The man tilted his head.

You squinted, hoping to find solace in a detail you might’ve missed or so. 

Finally, your shoulders slackened, exhaling a large white cloud.

“No… You’re… not.”

He sent you a fleeting look of pity before making an awkward joke.

“Do I look similar to a past lover?”

His smile is stiff as a board.

“No— my— my deceased… boss…” You spoke bitterly.

This person, who looked eerily similar to the dead Gepard Landau, stared with red-rimmed eyes. Did he cry earlier? With nothing else to focus on except for the thick fog, you remain frozen in place.

“This is…”

Terrifying, you wanted to say but that would be offensive.

“Impressive…” You gawked, slowly forgetting the vulnerable position you left yourself in. Sharply, you drew a breath. “You look like you could be a Landau.”

Your hand reached to touch his cheek, and the stranger leaned into your touch. Far too engrossed by this encounter, you did not care for his slightly hollow eyes and more than elated expression. It was the bigger picture that you saw.

It was the near-perfect image of the deceased Gepard Landau.

His skin was pinkish and his heart raced.

“Your hand is warm…” He commented softly, face red.

“Your face, your voice— it’s just your hair and your sense of fashion that’s different, and—”

“My name is Gerard,” his smile remains stiff as a board, but there's a touch of friendliness to it. “I don’t believe I appear anywhere near ghostlike.”

You’re inclined to believe that he’s lying.

No one can look THIS similar to Gepard.

And that name as well.

You don’t know what to think.

As you were about to retract your hand, he held it back in place, guiding it closer to his lips. He breathed in. His breath marked the fog. “Gerard” inched closer, stepping his foot near your prosthetic right leg. With little distance between you two, your temperature has progressively grown hotter. It’s uncomfortable watching you both like this. I should’ve closed my eyes.

“See?” He mumbled.

“Can you sense how warm I am?”

“So you’re not Gepard… Or a ghost, I guess.”

You laughed to yourself. You’re not sure about your statement, either.

But while this man may appear friendly, his eyes were a haunting reminder that some things can never truly be left behind.

“As I have stated before, my name is Gerard.”

Even his name sounds like his.

“I-I’m sorry, I was dazed,” You pinched your temple. Without his warmth, the cold bit your cheeks which made you turn around. “T-Thank you for carrying me out of that shopping cart, Gep– Gerard.”

You looked around again. Nothing to see but fog. Far from surprising.

“Gerard, where are we?”

The dirty blonde man laughed. 

“The Theater’s Back Alley.”

“The Back Alley?” You scoffed quietly, contemplating on how Gepard insisted to you before that it never existed– and now his promiscuous doppelganger is arguing otherwise. “There aren’t any back alleys around the theater.”

This place doesn’t look like an alley. 

It’s far too large for it to fit the description. This must be an abandoned town. Unbeknownst to both of you, way before your time, this place was called Chernobog.

“Yes there is,” Gerard hummed. “It’s where we are now.”

“Then can you carry– lead me back to the main district?” You decided to humor him. “I’m not supposed to be wherever this place is.”

“I wouldn’t allow it.”

“Why not?”

Gerard grinned. His radiant smile baffled you as his demeanor changed from slightly teasing to tender from just the crinkles of his eyes. 

“Because I love you, of course. I can't just let you leave.”

You froze.

Why? Why does he speak as if it ever so slightly comes from the diaphragm as he did? 

Why does his voice sound so much like Gepard’s?

You thought it was wrong.

Gepard would never say those words.

Not to you. Never.

As Gerard’s casual confession hung amidst the fog, a peculiar heaviness settled on your heart. It wasn't the words themselves that caused this unease but rather the haunting resemblance his voice had to Gepard’s. His voice was rich with authenticity, free of malice, and his confession was short but somehow sweet.

But you didn’t want to hear that from him.

You averted your gaze. A flood of memories had suddenly surfaced at that precise moment, including the hearty sound of Gepard's laughter. It appeared as though the dead had come back to play a cruel game. Unable to bear his comfortable “joke”, you recoiled and feigned deafness, face veiled behind an indifferent mask. Perhaps the Aeon of Preservation may have advocated for this. In a sense, perhaps denial meant safety. Silently, you begged for your thoughts to stop, for the resemblance to dissipate, and for the ache of grief to be buried again.

“Back on the topic at hand, if you wish to exit the Back Alley: I don’t wish to help you,” he smiled.

His smile is always stiff as a board.

“Why not stay here? Are you not a wanted person?”

You glared.

“How did you know that?”

“Murder, right?” Gerard drawled, his eyes softening in what you call disgusting pity. “Someone important. Someone that made you stuck here.” 

“Stop making accusations,” you spat, offended by his left-field slander.

“I’m not,” Gerard said. “I know who you killed. How about you? Do you remember who it was?”

Silence.

“But that doesn’t matter now,” he announced firmly. “Why don’t you come with me? Let me shield you from the monsters.”

You froze.

“Mon… sters?”

“Yes, monsters.”

Unexpectedly, a far-off wail of sirens and static radio pierced the air, disorienting. There was nothing to be seen when you lifted your chin to strain your ears in search of the source. Gerard's urgent voice broke through your daze.

"Run." 

With a swift and practiced motion, he swept you off your feet, cradling you in his arms back to the position you woke up in. He knew your current prosthetics were not meant for running. A prosthetic limb is like a new fingerprint and Serval would never make your new identity one similar to escapists. At the moment, you had a prosthetic leg for everyday use, and not blades for running.

As Gerard hurriedly carried you through the dense fog, you felt no sense of security as you had before. Something lurked just beyond your line of sight. In an act of spur-of-the-moment bravery, you stole a glance over Gerard's shoulder, and thus, you were paralyzed.

What emerged from the depths of the fog were grotesque “figures”. 

Their bodies were mutilated, with their arms hanging loosely at their sides. They reared their heads, twisting and contorting. It was humanoid in stature, blanched and nearly armless. If it were not for some tissues, you were certain they wouldn’t have arms to begin with. Their flesh seemed boiled together like patchworks of human remains. They started to inch closer, their movements disjointed.

Fear coursed through your veins as you realized their intentions were set upon you and Gerard. But his voice cut through, his words not faltering.

"Hold on tight," he said steadily.

“Whatever you do, don’t let them get to you, (Y/n),” Gerard whispered. 

“Please, do it for me.”

For the duration of “dawn”, Gerard carried you to safe locations. You have not met a single human person throughout the day. This was a concerning observation after knowing how large the “alley” was. He knew the area like the back of his hand and successfully guided you to hospitals (which, unfortunately, had more of those monsters from before) to patch some minor wounds from Sampo's “shopping cart trip” mishaps. 

Before you could walk to the hospital bed, he grabbed your wrist in a tight hold.

“Shhh…” Gerard tugged your arm. “You don’t need to walk. Please, permit me to carry you.”

Despite your whispered protests, he rarely let you move around. Which made sense since your staggering did alert them of your location.

But you don’t like the way he touches you.

Those Gepard-like eyes lingered on you as if he were trying to memorize every inch of your skin. His actions were marked by an unwavering vigilance, always on guard for the slightest sign of danger even when you encouraged him to relax a bit. It was as if he was driven by an unspoken longing or unresolved past experiences. And you've only just met.

This time he made sure to turn off his radio. Suspiciously enough, "Gerard" carried a Silvermane Guard issued radio but it only seemed to make sounds whenever danger lurks by.

You tried not to think about that. Save for the dusty bed and wispy drapes, the posters strewn across the hospital walls caught your attention. The wall didn't have anything else notable other than those prints. They must be the same ones you saw on the streets, yellowed with age. The prints ranged from love hotlines, anger management tips, and a wanted poster.

Your poster.

Unlike the previous ones, this one was preserved thoughtfully, plastered right at the center amongst all the prints. Intriguingly, floral stickers were peppered around your images. Not the childish ones you'd buy for a cheap price, but more refined illustrations. You're not too versed in the language of flowers, but they did look like blue roses and marigolds. If only you could recall what Gepard said about what those flowers meant...

For now, you hazarded an astute guess as to why it was cleaner than the rest, staring unamused at Gerard. He sheepishly smiled, face flushed as he tried not to notice your glare. Gerard seemed proud of his handiwork.

It was nearly cute.

If it weren't for the fact you seriously don't know who he is.

“Gepard—”

“Gerard,” he corrected you in a commanding yet soft tone, ironically similar to your old Captain.

“You don’t have to patch my wounds.”

“Just let me,” he pressed on, wrapping your scrapped arm with gauze. “This was part of my combat lifesaver course.”

You shifted from the bed.

“You’re a soldier?”

…

He didn’t answer.

You tilted your head.

“Are you sure you’re not a Landau–”

“Affirmative.”

He could’ve twisted the gauze tight enough to make you wince in pain, but he delicately wrapped it and added immense pressure not to your wounds, but in his gaze.

“I am not your “Geppie” and I am not your old employer.”

With a voice that commands resolute clarity from you, you doubt he’s telling the truth. 

You paused.

“How?”

“How what?” He muttered.

“How did you know that nickname?”

You gulped.

“How much do you know about me?”

You were on high alert the moment he called you by your name when those monsters chased earlier– you have never introduced yourself. Couple that with the fact that he was to accuse you of murder, you didn’t know what he thought of you. 

This time, he didn’t smile.

“Enough to know that I love you.”

“You say that like it makes any sense!” You snapped.

“I know everything because you wanted me to love you, and I do love you too. I am not a shield for the people like him. I don't have the burden to protect anyone else, doesn’t that make me a better man for you now? There's no need to make sure the Silvermane Guards are always at the ready. I don't have to worry about pride- about being a Landau.”

He delicately reached out, guiding your hand to rest against his cheek. His softened features conveyed a love for your "warmth", but the pool in your stomach made this experience unbearable.

“My life is reserved for only you. That is my oath.”

You ripped your arm away from him with disgusted eyes.

“Just tell me the truth already!!!”

He looked down, frowning.

“You don’t need the truth...” 

Gerard's eyes glistened with a bittersweet melancholy as he watched you, a faint smile tugging his lips. He had a look that says he knew all too well that you are unaware of the depths he was willing to go to protect you. The dirty blonde man reached out, his hand instinctively yearning to rest upon your shoulder, but he withdrew it quickly, his fingers curling inward.

“That’s why you’re here. In this foggy back alley.”

He scooted beside you. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to comfort you enough, you knew he spoke the truth when his voice cracked in a small whisper of: "I’m with you."

Gerard grabbed your hand again and softly kissed your fingertips.

No one could miss his sharp gaze. The man has deluded himself that you were his to protect at all costs. A nature that stemmed from a deep-seated desire to control something that he couldn't acceptably justify. A pure obsession that defied reason at its finest.

You know that look all too well.

But you can’t put a finger as to where you’ve seen it. What a shame.

You looked at your hands.

... Strange.

Since when were you wearing a golden ring?

Your eyes intuitively gazed at Gerard's hands.

All of the sudden, your throat dried.

You're both wearing wedding rings.

“You don’t have to be alone again,” he mumbled. “We can live here. You could plant and look after flowers with me– though I’ve never been good at it. It’d be a quiet life, just as you’ve always wanted.”

“If that’s what you’re offering then you’re no different than Serval,” you laughed to yourself. 

His eyes darkened.

Before you could comment on it, he cut you off with another considerate smile.

“You must be hungry. There’s a cafeteria downstairs, I’ll procure some rye bread.”

“(Y/n), babe, where are you?”

You looked up. An alarmed woman’s voice called out.  

“... Serval?”

No reply.

The voice seemed to be coming from the door.

“Serval, are you there?”

“(Y/n), i-it’s okay! C-Calm down, calm down,” the voice continued. “Things just happen. I’ll help you okay? Shhh, d-don’t cry, don’t cry, I'm here…”

“What are you talking about?”

“I won’t let it happen. They don’t even have to know you were here. P-Pass the mop now, shhh…”

It made a sound far too damaged to be called a soothing chuckle.

“What are you on about?–”

The broken voice began to sing, sounding as though she had been clinging onto a husk of someone who’s been too far gone. 

“C-Calm your nerves, my p-precious friend,

For "tomorrow"'s problems will never end.

In this short song, I s-softly sing,

You're cherished, my dear, in e-everything.”

You reached for the bed railing and supported yourself upright. Prepping your leg for a short walk, you placed your foot down–

THUD.

The door swung open, making you jump slightly.

Gerard came back, his breath nearly stripped away as he sauntered over. His only saving grace was his stamina, but otherwise fear would've dragged him down. There was not a single piece of bread in his hand. I’m glad he came, you would’ve been out of the alley immediately otherwise. And that's not good for us.

The voice was gone.

The sounds from afar now ring more of an animal than a human. 

"(Y-Y/n)," he called out. "We need to leave."

You tilted your head, about to question what was wrong but you were cut off by his abrupt scream.

"NOW!!!"

He took you by the waist, carrying you in a way there was regard for your amputation but fast enough to make you feel unease. You gasped as Gerard's hold on you tightened, sprinting out of the "safe location."

"W-What's going on–"

"They're close," he whispered. "They're coming. It knows we’re here."

With one free hand, he pushed down passing cabinets as he bolted. Nothing was on his mind other than to flee with you. You didn't dare look at what was behind. You didn't want to face the truth.

"Gerar–"

Despite your desire not to see these creatures, a lone monster stands at the end of the hall.

It loomed before you, a grotesque fusion of flesh intricately molded together like human flesh sewn tight to a Silvermane Guard uniform, its form twisted and contorted while multiple unnerving eyes peered from its misshapen visage. Although it may have eyes more than you have fingers, you have a sneaking suspicion that they are completely inoperative. Its skin bore an unsettling array of intricate carvings, etched like cryptic scars across its entire body.

Something about its appearance resonated with you.

It slugged closer, staring. As to “where”, you can't tell. Each inch of its body had slits for eyes enough to instill paranoia. At least one pair must've been staring at you. Yet, most of it was on him.

Gerard.

"Tch..." His eyebrows furrowed, troubled.

He ran towards the end of the hall and miraculously swerved to avoid its axe. His pace quickened. 

"(Y/n), whatever you do, don't think about why these creatures exist. Even when I'm gone."

“What do you mean?”

“Just don’t. That’s an order.” He said, sounding more of a plea than a warning.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as you struggled to keep up with Gerard's swift pace.

As he ran, questions burned in your mind, desperate for answers. His words echoed in your head, but your curiosity had implicit demand for a shred of understanding. You couldn't help but glance back, catching a glimpse of the creature still in pursuit. It persisted in its relentless pursuit of you, unwavering in its resolve.

"F-Faster!" you gasped between labored breaths. “It’s closing in on us!”

Gerard's expression remained stoic, his eyes focused on the path ahead.

He ran towards a door and pushed it open with a kick. You both stumbled through the threshold, entering what appeared to be the cafeteria, but the sterile scent mingling with the food made that guess somewhat unconvincing.

Gerard quickly assessed the room, searching for any signs of danger. The sound of distant alarms and muffled screams echoed through the corridors.

“Just what the hell is that?!” The words escaped you unintentionally in a mortified whisper.

Gerard cupped your mouth.

You both forgot to close the door.

What a horrible mistake.

The unsettling monster began its search. It emanated shrill sounds that pierced through your ears, making you almost move to cover them. The cries reached a hauntingly high-pitched cry that echoed like metal against metal. The mournful wails never resembled wolfish growls but rather heartbroken cries. Its speech resembles the guttural syllables "I" and "U" in an auditory expression of grief.

It turned around, but it also had eyes on its back.

Cowering in terror, you huddled close to Gerard behind the counter of the desolate cafeteria, seeking refuge from the approaching monster. 

As the creature drew nearer, its grotesque eyes fixated on you and Gerard, its elongated limbs reaching out with chilling anticipation. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you heard Gerard’s breath hitch as you both clung to the faint hope of survival.

But to your horror, as the monster approached head-on.

Its rotting flesh bypassed you, swerving past your trembling form, and seized Gerard instead. 

“(Y/N)!!! RUN!!”

Gerard pointed at the nearby mop.

He wants you to leave him.

A gasp of terror escaped your lips as you watched in disbelief.

His blue eyes widened, mirroring your panic but worse, as the monster's grasp tightened around him. Gerard yelped, his voice trembling as his fear of death loomed. Its grip was not merciful. 

It smacked Gerard against a desk.

Again.

Again.

And again.

Blood streamed in his scalp.

The monster took his arm.

And ripped it apart.

And soon.

Nothing.

Thud.

You went as silent as the corpse as you watched it extinguish his life in a quiet finality.

Tears streamed down your face, unable to look away. Maybe it's a trick of the mind, but you were starting to feel a pain from where your leg was removed. Your brain was still convinced that you still had it- and that it is in danger. You feel as if your ankle was angled downwards, hiding from the monster. Such sensations made your skin crawl, especially considering the circumstances. It was not the best time to experience phantom limb pain.

The monster briefly met your gaze as if to mock your survival. It limped away, leaving behind you with nothing but a corpse.

Hours felt like mere minutes before you were snapped out of your prolonged emptiness. Gerard remains on the floor, dead-eyed and bloody. Thankfully, your current PLP was manageable at best but the throbbing sensation distracted you for a while. Your mind was blocking out the blood on his face. It did not process how mutilated it had become, nor did it care to acknowledge his arm that lay on the checkered floor.

His cheeks looked warm, alive.

You fixed his hair.

“Gep– Gerard…”

…

…

You need to leave.

YOU NEED TO LEAVE.

Since that incident, you've been by yourself in the Back Alley, even though you sense that there may be other lost "people" like you nearby, you chose to act alone despite this.

There's no need for another Gerard.

You followed the walls every time you had the nerve to step outside, cursing Serval occasionally for failing to provide you with a prosthetic running leg. That, and her garbage methods she calls "physical therapy."

You have overstayed your welcome despite not knowing how long you have been in this dense fog. Oddly, you've never experienced hunger in your time here. You are unable to move around freely, and worse, you are unable to scream for help, unless you want the people who are still present in the dense fog to find you. 

You don’t have time to grieve for a man you barely knew.

You sighted a police station. Much like every building in this surprisingly large “alley”, it had been abandoned. It looked like the one you worked for, down to the paint job and the door frame. Funnily enough, the door was open, and thus, it was temporarily yours.

What greeted you first upon entering was a creature similar to the monsters you’ve crawled away from– but it did not move.

The still creature lay on the floor, staring at its hand. Its bottom half was similar to a mermaid's. You did not see two legs. When you approached, there was no reaction. You can only presume it was dead. Or that it never had a life to begin with.

You heard radio static as soon as you tried approaching it. But you don't recall ever having a radio in your possession.

“You poor thing…” You found yourself uncharacteristically sympathizing with a monster. The fatigue was eminent in your voice. “What happened?”

You're so stupid. Don't you think that "corpse" looks familiar?

You looked at its other hand and saw it holding an axe.

You took it.

As you brandished the weapon, its Silvermane engravings became more apparent. This was a soldier’s model, one you used back when you were an intelligence officer. Perhaps it will come in handy later.

“I’ve never heard of this station before, then again, I doubt many knew there’s a back alley in the first place,” you scoffed. “But, hmm…”

You turned your head to face the monster once more. You don’t know why you feel oddly calm facing the monster this boldly. With the axe acting as your new makeshift cane, you pushed it down. Nothing happened.

You got back up and took a look around.

For a police station, there were tons of love-related posters hanging around with half of them viciously vandalized. Some of them made you laugh as you read them. The handwriting seemed to belong to someone, but you can't recall whose.

LOVE ISN’T REAL.

I DON’T NEED A MATCH. I JUST WANT ██████.

“Pathetic,” your emotional equivalent of a snort was a slight huff. “And you’re all supposed to be Silvermane Guards? Guess this place was deserted for a reason.”

You hate how you sounded exactly like Mr. Landau just now. Out of all the children in the Landau household, you had it the worst with Md. Landau. Hearing yourself mutter something he would say... you're not sure how you feel about that.

Scoffing, you walked past the corpse and onto the break room. 

Missing just a few posters in your way.

IF I CAN’T HAVE ███, 

THEN I’LL JUST REMOVE ███ LIMBS.

Hours passed. You haven’t found the exit.

You heard Serval’s voice again. She was apologizing to you. Then, silence.

Nothing happened on what you presumed to be the “next day.” You cried to yourself until you saw the same monster who killed Gerard. It was ready to give chase until suddenly, it stopped when you were incredibly focused on escaping.

You tried thinking about why it did what it did. But it left more questions than answers.

Tore down a couple of posters. They were starting to get to you.

You think there is no exit. You made a quick mention about how Gerard probably knew where it is to yourself, but the same monster must've heard you. You felt eyes watching you and it made it's appearance by narrow alleys. You bolted.

You found another human. But he was long dead. You wondered if he was the same person children loved to talk about. The anxious man who lingered at the gates of the Back Alley. If I remember correctly, Stelle encountered this man before. Wonder what she thought of him at the time.

You heard the radio static again when you approached him. You decided to ignore him for now.

You mopped the man's dried blood. Who knew the mop Gerard pointed at in his last moments had it's use.

He looked stiff as a board. He was reeking, but at least he had a smile on his face.

You obtained a key after cleaning up the puddle.

“Was there ever an exit?”

Nothing happened in this timeframe. But you think you have an idea as to why these creatures exist.

Specifically, why they exist because of you.

How long have you been here? Sorry, I wasn’t keeping track.

You also weren't sure how long you'd been searching the town. Quite frankly, I was getting bored of watching. You tried to play this off like a maze game, constantly following the walls to your right as though it would magically lead you to the exit. Did you know that Lady Luck is not particularly lenient when bestowing favors? Your life here is slowly becoming more stale and your constantly improving ability to strategize your routes to avoid monsters has been making your adventure more of a chore to follow.  

It's admirable that you were so tenacious in clinging to life in such a dangerous environment with a single leg, but it was extremely frustrating that you couldn't see this alley for what it was.

As if to cure such boredom, you entered another abandoned building. Turns out, the key you pried off a dead man's corpse fits perfectly. It was a psychiatric clinic owned by one Dr. Kauffman, a licensed therapist who received teachings from Dr. Kang Tu via the Astral Express. I never cared about those people. They're just cashing in on the occult, the easily "hooked", and the disturbed. You harbor at least 2/3 of those qualities. Congrats.

The walls are more notably filled with the same set of posters you've seen scattered around time. This time, you weren't feral enough to tear the posters down. However, you didn't grasp the meaning behind them either. You refused to look deeper, even when you don't recall what would stare back at you. 

Mindlessly, you staggered inside a room. There were no professionals inside as far as you could tell without any of the lights on, just a cold sofa. You walked slowly and sat down. 

As soon as you comfortably secured a position to take a rest, you realized you weren't alone.

Star-bright eyes followed your movements as soon as you entered the room.

“Gepard?”

You blinked.

“Oh. Gerard, it’s you. I thought you were–” You paused as Gerard shook his head, eyebrows furrowed with a smile that repressed his frustration. “Sorry.”

“Anyway, I’m… confused. How are you alive?” You asked. “Your arm– it’s back. What’s going on?”

Desensitized, you no longer knew what to think.

You're being strangely calm, don't you think?

But one thing was for certain: this “man” is not supposed to be standing.

Gerard pursed his lips.

“Anyway?” He mimicked you bitterly.

“What do you mean “ANYWAY”?!?”

You flinched as he took steps forward.

“You didn’t even care about me, didn’t you?!? It’s Gepard this, Gepard that– Gepard is DEAD!!!” 

Gerard screamed at your face, gripping your shoulders tightly.

“Why… Why is it always him first? When I am everything he couldn't be?” 

Gerard chuckled lowly.

“I-I was so afraid. I was so afraid that I won’t be able to see you again– that I’d disappoint you– but no, it’s always Gepard first. Why can’t you be obsessed with me in the way you were so– so…”

He cried. Hot tears ran down his cheeks as his shoulders deflated. Gerard cast his gaze to the ground while his hands reached to wipe his sorrows off his face.

“I would die for you. Why can’t you do the same?”

You tilted your head.

“Strange, now that I think about it–” you said nonchalantly. 

“Didn’t I watch you die?”

Silence.

You should comfort him.

“Gepard,” you started.

Wrong name.

“No, it’s Gepard.”

Wrong name.

“It’s not the wrong name. I know what I’m saying.”

Wrong name.

I continued to correct you.

“It’s not–” You took a shaky breath. “It’s not the wrong name, you fucking idiot.”

He remains still, quiet.

Almost frozen.

Stiff as a board.

You laughed.

“I get it now. Haha. I get it now.”

You look down, staring at the human corpse. Human corpse? No. That’s not a human. A human cannot die twice. 

You get it now. 

You’re in the Back Alley.

There are always eyes that watch the Back Alley.

You look above, particularly to no one, but you believed the scriptwriter must be listening. 

“He’s listening, isn't He?”

Yes. He is.

It's time for us to talk.

The clock struck 10:10.

[lollytea]

Delighted myself thinking about the witch kids again, specifically their various attempts to build a replacement portal during the Summer. I'm picturing lots of brainstorm sessions that stretch late into the night and when they get tired enough, they devolve into arguing over who gets the last piece of pizza or playing truth or dare or whatever.

Hunter is feeling really proud of himself for having helped Belos rebuild a portal before. He has experience! He can make himself super useful! And then Amity 'Woman in STEM' Blight is also aiming for the same thing. She's an inventor's daughter. Her Dad's main area of expertise is using magic to power technology. She has plenty of opinions on the mechanical side of things.

Hunter and Amity either click extremely well and are plotting away at a prototype immediately or they disagree on every trivial detail and cannot go five minutes without arguing about it. There's no real resentment here. They're both just used to doing everything themselves and struggle to work as a team.

I don't think the project would get off the ground without Luz. She keeps everybody from wasting time with dud ideas because she's already spent tons of time in the Boiling Isles attempting to build a portal home. She knows exactly what WONT work cuz she's already tried it. She's also got a knack for thinking outside of the box and knows that even though glyphs are rendered useless in this realm, they can still be utilized. If she draws just the right glyph combo and finds a bit of magic for the glyphs to soak up, she's pretty sure they can light this portal's engine up.

Vee reminds them that she's still got a supply of Hexes Holdem cards, which have been working pretty well for keeping her human form. Luz, who had forgotten those things existed, nearly hits the roof in excitement.

Vee doesn't contribute much to the whole construction process, but while she does supervise. She did a health and safety course while at Summer Camp and is diligently making sure nobody is getting their asses blown up.

Portal Building is not Willow's strong suit. She does not have Luz and Hunter's experience, Amity's engineering knowledge or Gus' enthusiasm for tinkering with human technology. So she does what she does best and offers support. She hypes her smart friends up. And when they start doubting that they're actually making any progress, Willow swoops in to encourage them that if ANYBODY can build a portal, her best friends can!! Once the team realizes that they're gonna need something super strong to hold the portal upright, Willow beams. Her vines!! Her vines are tough as hell!! She can do that!!

Gus falls behind a little at first. He might be a prodigy but his skills are quite dependent on the existence of actual magic, so he struggles a bit to find his purpose here. He's very eager to work with human technology but Luz knows more about them than he does. He's smart enough to offer ideas but Hunter and Amity always come up with them before he does because they're both annoyingly STEM brained and have gotten a bit competitive about it. Gus is given the task of gathering equipment for the portal with Vee and he tries not to pout about it. After they managed to track down a half busted TV at a lawn sale, Vee takes him to a petstore to cheer him up. Gus gloomily stares at the hamsters running in their little wheels. He idly thinks about an article he read in one of his human magazines. About how hamsters in wheels can create energy. Unfortunately, hamsters aren't magic.

Cut to 2 days later when the team realizes that the Hexes Holdem cards just aren't gonna cut it. They don't possess nearly enough magic to power up a portal. It's not gonna work. All the time they've spent on this, and it's not even gonna work. They need something else. Anything else.

Luz looks like she's gonna burst into tears. Amity is pacing back and forth. Hunter is like this close 🤏 to slamming his head against the wall in an effort to rattle a genius idea out of his brain. Willow is making a valiant effort to keep everybody from having a full blown meltdown.

Gus is staring intently at Flapjack who is pecking away at the floorboards again. Then he's like "Hey....hear me out....what if-?"

[female-buckets]

For two whole years, Iowa and ESPN and Caitlin's agent tried to make me a Caitlin Clark fan. All day, every day, every way, they tried to get me on that hype train. And I simply could not be bothered.

In 2 days, Erica Wheeler did what Iowa and ESPN and Caitlin's agent failed to do in 2 years. Weezy's done more to make me like CC than any media campaign or Holly Rowe interview or 99 page magazine.

[krazykatt111]

(Sloppy) Halo 3 tribute, made for the shutdown of its original/360 servers

Kid me was hyped af for that game, I'd look for info about it, read weekly Bungie updates, read magazines that had info. Stood in line for hours at its midnight release at a gamestop.

Halo 3's one of my favorite games ever, so, needless to say, it lived up to the hype for me. Spent a lot of time on it and made countless memories I cherish.

I can't believe that motherfucker turns 17 this year. Insane

(And Halo 2, another top favorite of mine, is turning 20. Incomprehensible)

[beebundt]

Self rec time <3 TAKE TWO

Rules: Share five of your own works (OF ANY KIND CUZ I WANT TO SEE YOUR HYPE). Then, tag five more people to share the things they’ve made.

1. Something you absolutely adore:

2. Something that was challenging to create:

3. Something that makes you laugh or smile:

4. Something that surprised you (how it turned out, how other liked it, etc.):

5. Something you want other people to see:

THANK KEW UR SO KIND FR!!!! THIS SOUNDS FUN SO I LOOKED THRU AND TRIED TO PICK THE MOST FITTING THINGS.......... they're all within a year, maybe 2 or so bc i have very little pieces i still like past that point 🥲

1. i made this during my first year of college, i wanted to do something kind of warm and sweet as a submission for my club's art magazine. i dont think anyone cared abt it too much bc the lgbt population there is. Small to say the least lmao. but i still liked how it turned out! i cant discredit myself for trying to experiment!

2. WHEWWW this one was an art trade and it took 2 months (i felt so bad and still do) and was the first time in a long time doing a big rendered piece so i was super nervous and unsure how i wanted it look. but i think it turned out ok!

3. i love looking back on the very first art from 2 years ago i made of my first active (and still) dnd pc, mimyr!! i still didnt know how i wanted to draw firbolgs' ears yet so you def see a transition there. shes grown and ive grown. i love her 🥺 old on left, newest on right for reference

4. the post these 3 are in is currently sitting at 39k+ notes which is just. so bizarre 😭 i do like how these sketches turned out but i feel like tumblr users will see a titty and go rabid. woman lovers unite

5. I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO FOR THIS ONE SO ..... I CHOSE ONE OF MY FAVS IN RECENT YEARS TO SHOW OFF .? this was just a mindless doodle in a group canvas session but i still look back on this all the time bc its one of the most fun ive done in a Long time. been really trying to push myself to experiment with color/brushes that im unfamiliar with and be more sketchy again bc over-rendering makes me so miserable..... this is my happy place for sure

TBH IDK WHO WOULD BE OKAY WITH BEING TAGGED SO . i will leave this open for anyone who wants to join in on it and @ me so i can see too!! 🫵

[bookscandlesnbts]

2024 Things I’m Looking Forward To

This is not as easy to compile a list for as it might seem. Because while I am excited about some things, I’m still deeply annoyed that BTS is gone (until we get Jin back this year and Hobi too). I miss Jikook terribly, but in the spirit of it being a new year and of me tending to look on the positive side of things, I’m making a list really for myself of things to look forward to this year. I encourage you to make your own or let me know in the comments or DMs if any of these resonate with you 😊

1. Jikook Travel Vlog- I’d be lying if I didn’t put this as my most excited thing for the whole year. Nothing I love more than being comfy cozy on my couch with some snacks, lighting my candles, and witnessing Jikook shenanigans

2. My trip to Tokyo and Seoul with my sister this summer. Crazy that this isn’t number 1, I know, but truthfully I am nervous. I’ve never flown abroad and for such a long flight I’m nervous. Not about the plane itself but for being in such a confined space with strangers for that long is not my jam. But it will be worth it, I’m sure. I’m also pretty bad with time changes and well, 14 hours is something I can’t imagine. But I’m really excited to see all the places that I’ve been watching on my tv screen for the past 3 years.

3. All the new music content we will get from the tannies this year. I love new music in general (I participate in a group that does new music friday where we listen to new music that comes out every Friday) and getting new music from my favorites while they are away is so amazing. I love sharing that joy with people.

4. Bit of a sidetrack away from things BTS related but I’m super super excited for an actually good live action remake 🤞🏻 of my favorite series of all time at such a pivotal age (12) during my childhood. The equivalent of HP for me is Avatar the Last Airbender and from the looks of the sneak peek trailers, I think it might be worth the hype and I’m ever cautiously the optimist. I’m so excited to enter back into a world that I love so much and characters that mean so much to me. Maybe I’ll be inspired to write some crossover fics 😂

5. The return of Jin and J-Hope will definitely be a grounding experience and a source of great comfort to get real time content again from Bangtan.

6. Any other merch or little surprises or communication from our boys (especially Jimin and Jungkook around here you know the deal) I especially need all the magazine covers and content of Jimin in his natural hair color, blond. He could rule the world.

That’s all I can think of off the top of my head, but it’s enough to keep me going. Fighting! 🫰🏻

[tokyokookmin]

MY FAVOURITE JIKOOK STAGES

Jikook - power duo/aces of the group / main dancers/axis of the group. Yes, I'm talking about Jikook. The power couple. The duo rocks the stage with their charismatic personality and appearance. Amazing visuals. Sexy body. Powerful moves. Amazing vocals.

I thought of doing this post since we don't really get to talk about their dynamics on stage often. So, here's a post featuring my favourite JIKOOK stages as a unit in live concerts, off-stage dances, MV's and events. Also, keep in mind that I'm not ranking the stages. Whichever moment crops up in my mind first secures the top spot ya :)

Let's get it

BEST OF ME

The most epic part of their choreography. Jikook as a unit with their power moves.

LOTTE FAMILY CONCERT

2. BTS 5TH MUSTER

3. BTS 4TH MUSTER

HONORABLE MENTION

4. 2021 NEW YEAR'S EVE LIVE

5. BEST OF ME BTS COMEBACK SHOW

6. BTS BEST OF ME DANCE PRACTICE #2022FESTA

RUN BTS

BTS YET TO COME BUSAN RUN BTS

FIRST OF ALL. THE SONG. IT'S LITERALLY SUCH A HYPE SONG. SECOND. This is my latest FAV JIKOOK MOMENT ON STAGE - CHOREOGRAPHY WISE. It's a shame we only got one moment. But hey, it's good enough!

DYNAMITE

Let's never forget our QUEEN, DYNAMITE. The best pop song in 2020. BTS's ENGLISH SONG DEBUT. 2020 BTS was delightful!

BTS DYNAMITE DANCE PRACTICE (CUTIE AND LOVELY VER)

2. BTS TIME MAGAZINE DYNAMITE PERFORMANCE 2020

3. BTS SBS GAYO DAEJUN 2020 DYNAMITE PERFORMANCE

HONORABLE MENTIONS

BTS DYNAMITE 2020 GRAMMY AWARDS

BTS DYNAMITE 2020 AGT

BTS DYNAMITE LATE LATE SHOW W JAMES CORDEN 2020

THE TONIGHT SHOW W JIMMY FALLON DYNAMITE BTS 2020

BOY WITH LOVE

Cutesy, Subtle moments.

1. MMA 2019 BWL BTS

2. BWL IHEART MUSIC

3. BTS 5TH MUSTER

COMING OF AGE CEREMONY

1. FESTA 2016 BTS

We only had one performance but it was amazing. Jikooks power moves are splendid. I absolutely adore their efforts to produce a fantastic dance cover for the FESTA 2016 event.

BLACK OR WHITE

BTS PROM PARTY

Again. We only had this performance once though it indeed captured our hearts. An iconic song.

BLACK SWAN

I saved the best for the last. Yes, Black Swan. That one performance went viral in 2020. It amazed everyone. They were the cover of the news and the talk of the town for multiple days. Their immaculate and gracious dance moved all of us, didn't it?

BLACK SWAN MMA 2020

It was beautiful. Mesmerizing. Gracious.

I wanted to put this here as well

It's a wrap. I hope to continue this post soon!

All usage of Twitter links, Article links and Youtube links are provided. You can find them on my Twitter page if needed. I retweet all the tweets I use for my posts as a reference.

I said I'll be more active. Sometimes I just need to put this blog aside to tend more to my personal life.

xx, tokyokookmin.

[7nsomnia]

can i ask, what’s wrong with dcc? i always hear that they kinda suck as a company, but from the vlogs i’ve seen, they’re one of the better companies. i’m not really as into dreamcatcher as some of the blogs on here even though i consider myself a stan, so i might not have the right information

okay. I feel like this is like opening my personal pandora box so this might be long. I'm pretty tired today so apologies in advance if this isn't very coherent asdkjh

dcc are a pretty decent company on a surface level, they treat the members well (which should be like the bare minimum for any company but I know that in this industry that's something to genuinely praise) and they actually change according/respond to negative feedback from the fandom etc when they or the members mess up (or they used to anyway).

for me it started in 2020 and how they handled handong's return. like the way they handled her absence was fine (good even, I would say), but the lack of hype for her actual return made things feel so underwhelming even though it was supposed to feel like a relief that she was finally back. I can't remember all the details anymore, but I do remember that the first time I felt like things were actually alright with dc was when they did the online concert crossroads in march of 2021. on that note I think most ppl were expecting ttol and dlm to be repackaged with ot7 versions and yet it's 2024 and they still haven't released them.

the handong stuff atp is water under the bridge tho, the group is fine, the members are fine, etc, I'm only mentioning it because that's when things started to feel really off for me.

so now we get into the actual things that happened that have left the fandom feeling burned out/frustrated/disconnected etc etc, whereas this happened to me at the end of 2022, I'm seeing more people now going through what I did back then:

I think the most pressing thing was that dcc didn't capitalize at all on dc's first win. they got their first win in april 2022 and didn't even do anything special in korea to commemorate it. it was a HUGE moment and they did nothing with it. usually after a group gets a first win you'll see them getting more promotions in korea, magazine photoshoots, mc deals, etc but dc just went on ahead to do festivals in europe and have a usa tour, these things are not bad but it was the lack of promotion in korea that in turn just made it all feel useless. that year dc also weren't invited to any end of year awards if I'm not mistaken so it all felt really disappointing and like all of the work we had as a fandom had been for nothing. I have to reiterate, dc/insomnias had been getting screwed over on music shows since 2019 with deja vu to get that first win, like I don't want to talk about the injustices the group and this fandom suffered through the years but it was a true story of resilience, so getting that first win in 2022 was a huge relief. to see it all going to waste was just... heartbreaking honestly.

when it comes to tours...... god I don't wanna get too much into it, but 4 tours in the usa in the span of 2 years is not normal. specially when they're prioritizing that over having a proper asia tour and the likes (AND promoting in korea??). latam tour is practically sold out rn and they're getting no merch or m&g benefits like the usa tour. I don't think doing exclusive things for a specific tour is bad per say, but you have to treat all your fans semi equally at least, specially for a group whose fanbase is majorly international (this will be important later), or it will happen what is happening rn which is ppl will leave the fandom. This is the first latam tour since 2019 (2017 for brazil!)... they've waited a really long time so personally (even tho this doesn't affect me bc I'm european) I feel like it's really disrespectful but wtv, onto other things.

now, speaking of the fanbase being majorly international, if this is the case, you'd think the company would make an effort to stream important events to their fans, like hmm the 7th anniversary concert perhaps? but nop, that didn't get streamed. a repetition of the dumbassery they did in 2022 where they split the concert and the members' solos in 2 days and only streamed one and so intl fans couldn't watch half the solo stages? and don't get me wrong, I think it's important that they have events that are korea only like they have the fansigns etc, but something as major as their 7th anniversary? when they've gotten here thanks to their international fans? that stings a little.

and lastly (maybe), we have dcc's usual lack of promotion during comebacks. fans always paying for ads, intl fans always doing the most for digitals even when it's Not their place (because this is smth that the korean fandom and dcc should be responsible for), fans having to reach out for vendors etc... Justice cb truly has been the culmination of the very worst promotions dcc has done tho and there have been some really bad promotions before... no radio shows, minimum interviews, barely any variety... were there even any ads? usually it's always fans paying out of pocket for ads. it just feels like throwing the members' and the company's work out the window for no good reason? Virtuous is one of their best albums and yet it feels like they just dumped it to go on tour again. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing btw, having short promotions in korea is fine but like... promote for real? give your fandom content that they can watch and rewatch for however long it takes your group to have another cb? specially now that it seems that they're shifting to one album per year (not sure this is their wisest decision tho all things considered), you have to make sure that you promote that album properly? which kinda also goes with like, giving your fandom enough time to save for what you release and put out, specially if you're not trying to grow the fandom anymore. if they're dropping an album then don't announce a tour on top of that, and if they're announcing a tour then don't announce a photobook on top of that, and if they've just released an album then wait longer than a month to announce a photobook, and if they've just dropped a photobook then wait a bit longer until announcing the re print of albums the fans have been begging you for 6 years to re print LOL bc all this does is frustrate fans who can't make that much money in such a short time and it's stupid. like. in 2018 I dropped like 200 euros for like their very first photobook BECAUSE I had time to save that amount from their you and I cb (may) to whenever it was announced (I think it was august), and that was the highest tier (so you could get it for much cheaper) and bc back then it was like. well they barely release anything other than albums, so it's fine (also shipping was sooooooo much cheaper I miss it everyday, ofc this is not their fault tho but anyways).

lastly actually, oh my god. that stupid ass app where fans pay a subscription to message the members privately? has been the fucking worst thing to happen to this fandom and the members imo. if fans weren't respecting their boundaries before, it's even worse now. but it's also like. yeah the members should be reinforcing those boundaries, and I get wanting to at least make a buck of those problematic type of fans but I just don't think it has been good for the members at all. I won't elaborate too much on this because it will genuinely piss me the hell off but bottom line: that app has been hell for everyone genuinely there is no bright side to it other than dcc makes money out of it. and there's better ways to make money :))))))))

anyway this is over 1k words atp and somehow I feel like this all just the tip of the iceberg and I probably have forgotten many things bc tbh in the past year I've just. been trying to make peace with it all and just accept things for what they are because dc have been really special to me for such a long time and I just don't want dcc's decisions to make me throw all of that away (like I almost did). I love their music, I love the members, and so I will continue to celebrate wtv right decisions dcc makes but I'm not going to pretend that they're a good company when it comes to business decisions bc they're really not

[wittlesissyb4by]

Author's Note: If you're wondering where Chapter 4 is, you're not going crazy. Due to the nature and formatting (it uses chatlogs and explicit content) it is not suited enough for this prude-ass site. I'm sorry to say, but if you want to read Chapter 4 (and all the way up to 7), you'll have to subscribe to my SubStar. I'm sorry, I wish there was another way, but I will have it available for even the least expensive option of $3. My sincerest apologies. Still, I think you'll still be able to grasp the story without missing too much context from Ch. 4 (our MC Alan performed a task, and was rewarded with pictures of Persephone.) I hope you can still enjoy the story below. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

The White Rabbit Chapter 5 - Cockslut

I had never jerked off to the same set of pictures so many times in my life. Even when I was younger and found my Dad’s dirty magazines, my prepubescent self didn’t spank it as much as I had to the photos I’d just received from Persephone.  I spent so long staring and fapping to those pictures she sent, every inch of her was embedded into my brain. Burned into my retinas like when a TV is left on for so long that it damages the display. Hell, it probably is burned into my phone screen from being up so many times. 

She’s even more gorgeous than I imagined. It’s rare that something can live up to the hype you’ve been building up for it for so long. I pored over every pixel of her perfect body, examined the contours of her cheeks, the twinkle in her eyes, the crooks of that devious smile, the splotches of colors in her tattoos, specifically the one of the little white rabbit.

“That doesn’t mean that’s what she really looks like. She could be catfishing you” That tiny voice in the back of my head still whispered.  But I shoved that thought aside, even after the post-nut clarity hit.

I still masturbated the way she told me to. Every single time. Fingering the head of my dripping clit through my little panties with a dildo in my mouth or ass. I didn’t last long at all. I imagined her standing over me, smiling that wicked smile, laughing at me while shoving that dildo in my mouth, or pounding me in the ass with it. I finally was able to give a face to the rubber dick I’d been shoving in my holes for so long. What I wouldn’t give to have her right there next to me, doing all the things I imagined, but in reality.

Persephone didn’t talk to me for a few days. I don’t know if she had something going on, or if she was just leaving me to my own devices, to stare longingly at her photos, to imagine scenarios of her in my head. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I think it also makes subs more dependent on their Mistresses. 

Without her guiding presence, I was left with this odd sort of void. No one was telling me what to do anymore. How would I know how to “fuck my slutty little asshole” if she wasn’t there to tease and berate me with her messages?

I’m not proud of what I did in her absence. 

“Sorry, I had some things…come up at work.” She messaged after almost a whole week. 

“It’s fine.” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, like I wasn’t checking my phone every 30 seconds in hopes that she would finally respond. 

“Did you do okay while I was gone?”

“Yes Mistress.” I said, hoping to leave it at that.

“My little slut was able to handle herself?”

I guess you could say that.  “Yes Mistress.”

But something was eating at me. I didn’t know how to tell her, I didn’t know if I wanted to tell her. But this relationship—no matter how weird it was—had to be built on trust, right?

“I…i might’ve…” I typed out the next part, deleted it, then typed again. “I may have…found someone else…”

My heart was pounding as I waited for her response, but it didn’t take long. 

“Oh?”

She wanted me to elaborate. 

“Did you find a girl in real life that’ll dress you up like a sissy bitch and fuck your little butt, slut?”

I audibly scoffed at that. Like that would ever happen. 

“No I…found some other people online…”

“People? As in, more than one?”

“I…yea…”

She didn’t say anything for a while. She must have been fuming. 

“Are they girls? Or are they men?”

I felt myself flush, shriveling into myself. I felt so ashamed, not just because of what it was, but because I knew I was disappointing her. I was effectively ‘cheating’ on her. 

“Men…😞”

Nothing happened for a second, minutes, hours— or at least that’s what it felt like. Then, Persephone is typing…

It took a long time too. She must have been writing a novel. Berating me for being such a piece of shit. I finally found a girl to fulfill my dreams, and I went and blew it as soon as she stepped away for a few days. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” She said. “Did you sext with them??”

Again, I wanted to lie, but there was no denying it now. “Yes…”

“This is it. I blew it. A girl any submissive would kill for, and I let it slip away the first chance I got. 

Persephone is typing…

I was sweating, dreading what was to come. Finally, a massive text bubble hit the screen. 

“LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂”

Well…that wasn’t the response I expected. 

“You fucking WHORE!! Hahaha”

I felt a bit of tentative relief, still not quite sure how she was taking it. 

“Did I tell you you had to do that??”

“No ma’am…😥”

“But you did it anyway?”

“Mhmm.. 😣”

“You know, this is the second time you’ve done something without my permission, and it always seems to involve cock…”

She was referring to the time I used the dildos she ‘made’ me buy. She didn’t tell me to use them, she didn’t have to, I just…did it anyway. 

“Because you’re a desperate little cockslut, aren’t you?”

My immediate reaction was to deny it, the same way I’d been doing my whole life. I always told myself ‘as long as a woman was making me be a slut for men, it was fine. It’s not gay.’ But the proof was right there. Even without her around I still went out and did what I always told myself I’d never do on my own. 

“I…i think so…😩”

“I wanna hear you say it.” 

“Say what?”

“Tell me what you are.”

It took a second to register what she meant, but then it hit me like a truck.

“I’m a little cockslut…” I said. Just typing the words made me feel weird, but also weirdly arroused…

“Louder.”

I switched to all caps, “I’M A LITTLE COCKSLUT!!”

“No no.” She replied, “I want you to make a video. Put your little panties on, get on your dildo, and start bouncing.”

I scrambled to obey, perhaps a bit too quickly. My cock was already fully erect by the time I pulled my panties up around it. I stuck the suction cup to the floor, making the rubber dick sway back and forth, squirted a generous amount of lube on the tip, worked some between my crack, pulled my panties aside, hit the video, and started recording. 

I slowly lowered myself down on it, wincing as it pressed inside my unrelaxed sphincter. There were several seconds of awkward fumbling and adjusting and lowering and gasping before it finally worked its way in and the sounds turned to sighing. 

“I’m a little cockslut,” I said softly, working the dildo further into me. 

“I’m a little cockslut.” I repeated, feeling it slide along my prostate. 

“I’m a little cockslut!” My eyes were in the back of my head. 

“I’M A LITTLE COCKSLUT!!” I practically shouted, burying the dildo all the way inside me until I was squatting down on the balls. There was no denying how good it felt to be full like that. I quickly clipped the video and sent it to Persephone. 

“Don’t stop now.” She replied. “I can see you leaking in your panties. You’re loving this!!”

She was right, my panties were soaked with precum. 

I bounced, swirled, grinded my hips back and forth. 

“How many guys did you sext with?”

I wanted to reduce the number, but I was too horny to deny it. 

“Seven” I managed to reply while still keeping rhythm. 

“Seven?! That’s more than I assigned you the other day!”

She was right. What felt like such a chore before quickly became something I craved, like a lot of things she was making me do…

The dildo felt so good. I was fully relaxed now, bouncing and taking that dick like the best of them. 

“How did it make you feel? Being a little whore for men and making them cum?”

“Like a slut, Goddess.”

“You fucking LOVED it, didn’t you?”

I did, and I told her so. 

“Show me how much you love that dick.”

I set the camera up again, putting it in selfie mode so I could see myself bounce on the cock. I needed to shave my legs, I needed to work out more, get in better shape to get a better body so I could attract more—

Oh my GOD! It felt so good. When I leaned back it hit my spot perfectly. I crab-crawled my arms backwards, putting all my weight on my hands so I could focus on gyrating my hips. 

I pulled the front of my panties to the side. I wanted her to see how hard I was. How much it made my dick swell to have something pumping in and out of my asshole. I was gonna be her little buttslut. Her little whore to pimp out like she always told me. My mind was swimming, my body was clenching, waves coursed through my legs and up to my pelvis, an immense rush came from inside my rectum and then—

The first shot caught me off guard. A huge spurt of semen flew straight up in the air. Another one went forward, spraying the floor and pretty much everything else around the room as my bouncing cock spewed like an unmanned firehose. 

It took several seconds for me to register what happened, to come off the high I just experienced. To snap back to reality, to realize this even was reality. I was still gasping for breath when I slowly slid the cock out. I sat there for a second, contemplating what just took place. 

I just had a sissygasm. 

I’d heard of it before, but I never thought it was actually possible other than by extremely practiced sissies. Professionals. Ones that knew what they were doing because they’d done it so much and so heavily enjoyed the feeling of co—

I grabbed my phone, swiping away a glob of cum that must have landed on the screen. I contemplated not sending the video to Persephone, but I had to see what she said. 

Her first several messages were a series of laughing emojiis. She even sent me an audio file of her cackling like an amused hyena. If I could have seen her face, it probably had tears of laughter leaking down the sides. 

“I knew you’d get there one day, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon!!”

I let her have her fun. Berating and humiliating and teasing me for proving what a “cockslut” I am. I don’t think there was anything I could do to deny it at that point. 

“Clean up your mess.” She finally said. 

I spent the next several minutes lapping up the many, many puddles of cum littered around the room. The thick globs refused to come up just from me tonguing it like a dog, so I had to press my lips around them and slurp it up like a dog. 

“You’re not done.” She said after I sent her the video of me gargling and swallowing some. 

I looked around for a puddle I’d missed, how had she seen something that I couldn’t?

“I’m not sure where, Goddess…?”

Was it my panties? They *were* quite wet, did she mean my panties? But she soon clarified:

“The dildo 😈” 

My stomach churned as I looked back at the rubber dick I’d just violated my ass with. “Oh Goddess…please no…”

This wasn’t me faking some sort of trepidation in order for her to have another chance to belittle me, this was genuine disgust. 

“I know it’s gross, honey. But if i’m gonna whore you out you’re going to have to get used to going ass to mouth. There are some very callous men out there…”

“Please…please don’t make me 🥺”

“I’m sorry, sissy, it has to be done. Let this be a lesson for you to keep yourself clean at all times. You need to be doing regular enemas. You never know who’s gonna stop and bend your bimbo ass over! Now get to cleaning. And don’t try to wipe it down first either, I can see the glistens of lube.”

Damn, that was my backup plan. There was no getting out of it. Well…there was. I could just stop talking to her altogether. Draw the line. Quit right here and now. But was I really going to let a dirty dildo ruin what we have? I’d probably never get this opportunity again. (Not to clean my ass juices off a fake dick—but have a powerful woman tell me what to do.)

I leaned in close, turning up my nose, trying to block out the faint, pungent smell. The fake black dick at least hid any damning streaks I may not have had the stomach to see. 

After tapping record on my phone, I tentatively opened my mouth and stuck my tongue to the tip, cringing at the taste that was probably more lube than anything else. I made a mental note to get the flavored stuff if this was going to be a regular occurance. 

A regular occurance? What was happening to me?? I went from wanting to be dominated by a stranger, to wearing panties, dirty talking creepy men, shoving dicks in my holes, and then shoving those dirty dicks back into my mouth. I never imagined wanting to be dominated would lead to me doing such depraved things. But here I was, slurping the lube off of a dick I just used to make myself cum without even touching my own dick. 

“I think you missed a spot…” Persephone said, “go deeper.”

I wonder if she enjoys this. Like genuinely enjoys watching guys in panties gag and sputter on a dirty dildos. Then again, I can think of several females I screwed over in the past that would probably pay good money for this very video. 

“Now the balls…”

If it was able to sparkle, it would have by the time I was done with it. My mouth was full of all sorts of conflicting flavors like cum, lube, and god knows what else. 

“Smack your face with it a few times, just for giggles!”

Oh how far I’d fallen. If only I had known at the time that this was only the very beginning. 

“Did you have fun?” She asked after it was all said and done. 

“Yes Goddess,” I said, even without being horny anymore, I found myself being truthful. 

“You like being my little slut?”

“YES Goddess!”

“Good. Because I have another assignment for you…”

~~To Be Continued~~

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