#A particular shot he took was chosen at random. What is the probability that the shot that was chosen was NEITHER a three-point shot NOR a

[joshslater]

Emergency Model

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"Excuse me, what's your shoe size?"

Bewildered I looked around to find the man who asked the random question, like out of that old episode of Monty Python. Off to the side, almost behind me, was a thirty-ish man in polo shirt, jeans, and glasses with plastic rims that looked purposefully selected to make him look like a film director or architect. He looked unsure or stressed. "Eight, eight and a half. Who's asking?"

Immediately he brightened up. "Hello. I'm Ben Atkinson, " he said and extended his hand. "We're making a photo shoot of the supplemental collection of sporting clothes," he continued without waiting for me to shake it. "It's all for the online shop, so simple stuff. White background, a few poses." Tentatively I shook his hand. "Pretty fast rotation of models. Unfortunately one of them has called in sick. You have the right look, but more importantly the right build and size."

"Uhum," I answered, sensing where this was going. It was a Saturday morning, and I was on my way to meet up with some friends at Wayland's Deli.

"This is quite sudden, but we are on a tight deadline. If you're willing to model for us I'll give you twice the normal rate."

"Ok," I said, not waiting to hear what the normal rate was. I'm sure Stuart would not stop giving me grief about it for the rest of the year, but I would technically be a photo model which wouldn't be a negative in Sarah's eyes. Turned out that it would also be double my monthly earnings as well, so maybe I could shut Stuart up as well.

We entered the building, which apparently was an office space that had been taken over for the day for the shoot. There were racks of clothes everywhere, lots of people with iPads tracking what item was where, who should wear it, and in what conference room they should shoot it. It was bustling with activity. After some exchange of information with Ben, and signing papers, I was handed over to a conference room turned makeup and styling studio. Most of the furniture was stacked in one corner and the floor was covered by transparent plastic that had been rolled out. To one side was a table with lots of makeup tools and bottles and stuff I wouldn't know how to use, except maybe the hand mirror and the scissors, and even that I'm not confident with. A pair of strong LED lamps on stands lit a chair placed at the center of the plastic. 

"I'm Julia, pleased to meet you. So you are the last one," said the stylist, carefully surveying me and in particular my face and hair. "We're short on time, so we have to work quickly. Are you ok with a buzz cut and tight fade?" Not what I would have chosen, but it's starting to get warm outside and it's only hair. I'd be back to my current length after the summer. "Sure."

She seated me in the chair and began the work with a corded trimmer, and soon a flurry of detail work with smaller trimmers and some of her tools from the table. Probably took her about ten minutes for the haircut. Then some time with a straight razor blade and a tweezer to pluck and shave all over my face and then arms. I told her that this was all new to me, having literally just been picked from the street. She reassured me that there wasn't much to it. Just be no-nonsense about it. Take whatever the stylist decides, change clothes quickly, do the poses the photographer asks for, and repeat.

"All done," she said and handed me the hand mirror as if I had any say in this. I looked so different than just moments before. The hair was shorter than I've ever had it, with a razor sharp fringe line. The fade on the sides was basically just an inch tall from the head and down the temple, then skin tight down, and presumably the same around the back of the head as well. The total amount of hair I was left with could fit a shot glass. "If you go down the corridor to the break room there is a shower in the bathroom there. Ask Andy outside to let you in. Take a quick rinse to get rid of stray hairs, change into these, put your stuff in one of the plastic boxes there, and come back to me for a final touch-up." She handed me a pair of white briefs and white socks. I hesitated a bit, and she was quick to jump ahead of my thoughts. "Everyone around here are used to see gorgeous bodies without clothes. Act as if it is normal, because to us it is. You can't be self-conscious. Oh, and Andy is the only one with a key, so your valuables are safe." Another boy showed up at the door saying he needed a new application. I told Julia thanks and went to look for Andy.

Andy unlocked the door to the office lunch room for me and I did as Julia had told me. I stripped naked and put everyting, clothes, wallet, phone, keys, shoes, into one of the plastic boxes, wrote my name on it with a whiteboard marker and placed it next to all the other boxes. Eight boxes in total. I went into the bathroom, took a 90 seconds shower, and dried myself off with one of the towels from the pile. I put on the briefs and socks, had Julia apply her things to me, and within ten minutes I was dressed in Nike shoes, joggers, and a fleece hoodie, being ordered by a photographer who didn't have time to introduce himself to look left, turn around, put my hands in my pockets, pull up the hood, sit down on the floor, and on and on. Then out change, and back with the next item.

It was going non-stop since they were behind on my stuff, so I had barely time to talk to anyone. There wasn't any proper lunch break either, just a protein bar together with two of the other models, Mark and Andrew. At first they thought it was funny that I had just been snatched off the street for the shoot, but when I told them how much more money I got they were like "fuck you, go back to work". Well the break was over anyway, so I don't know how serious they were.

It continued with item after item, until I realized I was the only model left. The others had taken off without saying goodbye, not that we had any relation. People were moving things out of the office, and when I asked about the hurry they said there was a firm deadline when they had to be out so the cleaning crew could put everything back to a working office again. I could feel the pressure as it was my item changes that held up everyone. I swapped into a pair of MRKNTN underwear that probably was like half a size too small but decided to just power through with the shoot. As soon as the last photo had been taken, they started to dismantle the light rigs. As I walked back to the lunch room I could see that most of the clothes racks were gone. The makeup room was back to looking like a conference room. I couldn't find Andy anywhere though, and the lunch room with my stuff was still locked. I wanted my stuff for sure, but more importantly I wanted to get out of the underwear that kept squeezing and chafing. I couldn't go more than 30 seconds without having my hands down the joggers to adjust them.

Ben wasn't anywhere to be seen either. I asked one of the remaining people and he said they had all left, working on getting all the stuff back and preparing the "delivery pipeline" for the photos. Probably Andy had checked off everyone from his list, and it was printed before I was recruited. "Just keep the clothes you have on and you can come back here Monday and pick up your stuff," he said.

Fuck.

No point in hanging around any longer. Everyone wanted to leave as soon as possible, so I just left and headed towards the bus stop. It was getting late and with no phone on me I couldn't call home and say what was going on.

Fuck.

I didn't have anything to pay the bus fare with. I could perhaps go back to the office building and see if I could catch anyone exiting, use their phone, and call for someone to pick me up. But there was no telling if and when I would get hold of anyone. Just walking back there would make me miss the next bus, so that would set me back at least an hour. I could just as well ask someone else to use their phone. Or perhaps ask them to cover the bus fare.

That's when I saw them, a little bit further down the street, past the bus stop. Six boys huddled at the corner, talking and messing around as if no one else was around. One had a bike. All of them dressed in the kind of clothes I had spent all day modeling in, track suits, hoodies, trainers. All of them were smoking. I figured I'd have as good a chance with them as with anyone else now, looking the way I looked.

As I was getting closer one of them alerted the others and they had some kind of conversation about me. "Hello, excuse me. Could I borrow money for the bus fare from any of you?" There was a second of silence before a mixed snicker erupted, and one of them answered "No, bruv. I don't think so."

I don't know why, but for some reason I was mortified by how I had been dismissed. I could feel my face turning red, so I quickly turned away from them to make my way back to the bus stop, without any plan of what to do next.

"Oi, bruv!" I heard from behind me. Looking back at them I could see three boys had gotten up and were heading my way. "Callum's grafting down at the barber's for some extra quid and need someone to practice on. What if he can do some practice while we cover the fare and take you home safely? Fair, innit?"

"I barely have any hair," I said and let my hand touch my fresh skin fade, almost shocking myself with how radically different it felt.

"Won't be much of a nick then, bruv."

He was right. There wasn't much he could ruin. I had only a few millimeters of hair so in the worst case scenario I could shave completely and it would be back within the week.

"Good lad. A deal innit."

"Yes," I said, unsure if it was expected. The guy who had spoken and Callum flanked me while the third lad walked behind me, enveloping me with the scent of smoke and body spray. After a silent moment the guy spoke again, introducing himself as Iwan and the third guy as Rob, and asked where I lived. I gave him the bus stop, Hillside Garden North, about 18 minutes ride. Would have been busy during the week, but at weekends there wouldn't be many on the bus.

We didn't have to wait long for the bus to arrive, but instead of entering by the driver they all bunched up again with me in the middle and entered through the exit doors as a single unit. Then they quickly moved to the back of the bus and pushed me into a seat next to Callum, facing Iwan and Rob in the furthest back seat. I half expected the driver to say something over the speakers, but there was barely a delay, if any, before the bus was moving as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I looked at Iwan with perhaps a bit of surprise and he just shrugged as if to say "what did you expect? That the driver would confront us?"

Then he nodded at Callum next to me, backpack in his lap, who answered "Aye" and got up. He placed the bag on the seat and positioned himself right in front of me, one leg on either side of mine, his knees hitting the edge of the seat, and his left hand grabbing the rail behind me. It felt both imposing and intimate. He opened the backpack and rummaged around with his right hand until he found a small trimmer in a zip-lock bag.

He opened it with both hands and threw the plastic bag into the backpack. Then he looked out and waited for the bus to drive on straight and even road before he turned the trimmer on. Then slowly he moved it in an arched line from my temple and along the side of my head until he reached the neck. Then he studied for a few seconds before he made a few additional buzzes along the same line.

"Not bad, innit?" he said while shifting his body so Iwan and Rob could see. "Fucking mint, mate," Iwan answered.

Then he turned on the trimmer again and unexpectedly extended the line by buzzing my eyebrow for a few seconds. I hadn't even considered my eyebrows. Callum reached into his backpack again to put the trimmer in the zip-lock, but without moving his feet so his body pressed even closer to me. While I couldn't see much, I could certainly feel his body spray filling my nostrils while I felt my eyebrows with my fingers. I guess there would be a lot to explain to mother anyway, so this would just be yet another detail.

I could just see it for a fraction of a second. It looked like a small glue gun in off-white plastic. Then before I could realize what it was it was pressed against my ear, it made a snapping sound, and I felt a sharp pain. "What the!" I said, more in surprise than pain.

"18G piercing. Hurts more, heals slower, but much better," Callum offered, as if it was the type of piercing that was in question, not that he had done it at all. He reloaded the piercing gun and I struggled with what to do. Just take it like the first one? Why should I? But then one piercing was the real threshold. Once you pass that, two is if anything better than one. This would soon be over anyway.

He was just as quick with the second one as the first one. "These need to stay in 30 days, you hear me?" he said, still standing essentially on top of me. "Yes, I understand," I said with a sinking feeling of all the implications. He put the gun back into the bag and went searching for something again. Finally he pulled out some sort of pliers, then held my earlobe with one hand while doing something with the pliers with the other. "Making sure they don't fall off," he explained before sitting down again on his seat. I could see Iwan and Rob again, and booth looked pleased. Iwan looked absolutely chuffed. "Fucking proper, innit" he said and pat me hard on the shoulder. "Fucking proper."

After than Iwan opened up and started to ask me all kinds of questions, starting with my name, which I realized I hadn't given him when he presented everyone. I was soon giving the highlights of the day as a photo model until we arrived my stop. To my surprise everyone got off with me. "Said we would take you home safe." We continued to chat all the way home and it turned out me Iwan and Rob had the same taste in electronic music while Callum was more of a rock guy.

"Ok, this is my stop," I said once we reached my house. "Meet us Monday, same time and place," Iwan said. "What?" "You owe us £2 for the bus, bruv." "But..." "You going back on our deal?" "No, I'll come by." "And wear the same clothes. Underwear too." "No! I have classes." "You'll figure it out, bruv." Callum opened his backpack again and tossed something to Iwan. "And use this," he said and handed over a can of Lynx Jungle body spray. "What if I don't? What if I don't do any of that?" "Where you live isn't a secret, innit? See you Monday, bruv."

[moxfirefly]

Our third spooktober/kinktober installment brings our favorite purple banded lad into the mix of it. Let’s put the quiet ninja skills to an interesting use.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0NJM6ZBiDoWSiYQAUaGRsg?si=XYk0iqg1SL-ThGgyjXk-Tw&dl_branch=1

TW: consensual vouyerism, predator/prey? Slight verbal degradation, NS*W themes, you get the gist of it

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

New York was a buzz on any other day but today was special.

It was Halloween after all.

Tonight was special, the festive ambience, the pulsing of the noises around you and the small personal detail that at exactly 11pm, a game would commence between you and a certain terrapin.

Details had been discussed, rules and boundaries as per usual because Donnie was nothing if not proficient in details. He could’ve made a detailed contract if given the opportunity.

A group of kids ran passed you screaming in delight, the girls in the group shrieking at they were frightened. Many horror movie characters went up and down the streets, the parade had finished not too long ago and now it was the time to hit up bars and clubs. None of those were in your itinerary of course, as your phone marked 10:50pm you had to get ready to make it to the starting check point.

There was a particular subway station you had to get to just as eleven hit. From there on it would be a straight shot to your apartment building and once there up to the rooftop.

But half the fun would be to somewhat disobey those orders. You grinned to yourself, hands in the pockets of your jacket as you quickened your pace to the subway entrance. It was 11:02 when got there, groups of people in random costumes came and went. With a deep breath you started your chosen route.

It was almost immediate, like a chill down your spine that wasn’t simply the windy weathers fault. You knew you were going off route, you turned several times with your eyes to the tall building in curiosity that you might see something. Naturally that wouldn’t be the case of course, it never was that simple.

Not with how skilled he is.

Your pace quickened once more, you felt like you were power walking and no amount of that could put run him obviously but there was something in those winds.

Up one of the busiest streets is where your phone buzzed and when you pulled it out you were greeted with UNKNOWN in its bold letters. You held your breath with a smile and answered.

“You think you’re cute?” Came his voice and it took so much of your resolve to not laugh nervously.

Looking up you tried to catch him, he had to be somewhere maybe not visible to the untrained eye but-

“You’re not gonna find me, you know?” That made you swallow but a stubborn idea came to mind.

You lifted your hand that held your phone, wanted to make sure he saw wherever he was perched when you hit the END button. Changing route again you cut through an alley and kept making the trek towards your building. Past one of your frequented coffee shops your phone started to ring again. Picking it up you grinned, he was panting, probably making a new route as well to catch up or place more distance.

Maybe you were ahead of him?

“Aren’t you proud, you think I didn’t expect this behavior from you?” There was a grunt and the sound of him landing somewhere.

“Yeah? Well where’s the fun if I don’t trick you once in a while? Oh and guess what? Im gonna piss you off even more in about ten seconds” You looked at the screen, your cheeks hurt from how hard you were grinning.

“Y/n, you better not do what I think you’re going to” Getting Don to use a stern voice wasn’t often and right about now? It twisted your insides in the most delicious of ways.

You turned off your phone.

‘Cant track me now huh tech boy?’

You ran up the street you were and took a shortcut that should deliver you to the building you intended to go to.

Which wouldn’t be exactly the one that housed your apartment. Once there you’d call him and tell him where exactly to go and enjoy the victory, even if obtained in the most dishonorable fashion.

The chosen building was a favorite of his and you, the rooftop was spacious and long ago you and Don had gotten keys to access the fire escape entrance. Unlocking the gate with said key you jogged towards the middle with a triumphant clap. Just as you reached for your phone in a spin your eyes landed on him.

On Donatello.

Hands stuffed in his pockets and an amused gleam in his eyes.

You were frozen on the spot, finger hovering over the power button. The fish out of water look must’ve been precious to him but he made no move to hop down from the ledge. A hand exited his pocket with a cellphone in it, the red dot on the screen blinking in what felt like the same pace of your heart.

“But… but my phone was off” Your eyes remained wide, throat dry.

Donnie squatted, hands playing with the phone as he watched you try to make heads or tails of this.

“You’re a damn brat, you honestly thought I wouldn’t expect this? That you’d veer off and try to cheat your way to victory?” He hopped down, an almost bored aura to his stride as he approached you.

Wow your boyfriend could be… menacing.

“So I got a little creative, just like you did” His fingers found your necklace, thumb and forefinger playing with the pendant that hung from it. A small yank and the tiniest of mechanism came off of it. You blinked several times, mouth parting to speak but words simply escaped you. “It really pays to be a genius, guess I got to trick my silly little doll” That very hand found the back of your neck, a possessive grip landing there. He didn’t shove you, just simply operated you towards the ledge of the roof where he had been second before.

Donnie bent down towards the shell of your ear, voice just above a whisper. “Don’t you ever, and I do mean, ever…” He nosed the spot behind your ear, the outline of his smile against it made you shiver. “Disobey me again” All you could do was nod slowly at his chastising.

Then you felt a strong forearm wrap around your chest and pull you against him.

“Color?” He whispered softly.

“Fucking green” You offered in an excited huff. This was making every hair in your body stand up. There was a pleasant pin prick sensation coursing through your limbs. Donnie made an approving sound, a soft caress across your chest to satisfy more himself.

Back to the game.

Back to the persona.

“Get on your knees”

You swallowed, too loud for you.

“Like, here?” The question felt immediately dumb and Donnie didn’t waste his time in chuckling.

He turned you around to face him, cupped your face and traced your bottom lip. “Yes you silly little doll…” His strong hands landed on your shoulders as he dipped down to press a soft chaste kiss to your lips.

“How else am I going to fuck your throat?” The mock innocence was the cherry on top, and you’d be a damn liar if you said your knees didn’t wobble as you took to your knees before him. “Been thinking about this while I chased you around half of Manhattan, that when I won, I’d shove myself so deep down this tiny precious throat of yours, you’d never forget what happens to silly brats” He moved a few strand of hair from your face in the most gentle way he knew.

Your hands trembled towards the button of his pants, his knuckles ran down your cheek and soon enough enough you found his thumb inside your mouth. It was instinct to close your lips around the digit, give him a preview of thing to come. Those pretty brown eyes searched for any hesitation, any need for this to stop or take a break but your muffled ‘green’ around his digit reassured him he was still on the right track of things.

He felt the palm of your hand run the outline of his hardening cock, stopping at the head to tease him through the fabric of his underwear. Donnie played with a few strands of your hair, watched his thumb leave your wanting lips.

“Go ahead, show me how good you’re at this” His eyelids fluttered just enough when you pulled him out, both hands wrapping around the base to pump him. As your lips found the head of cock and began to tease him, Donnie took the chance to grab a fistful of your locks, he gentle pulled to test your reaction.

The pace was slow, your lips teasing him to full hardness as you savored him. Your mouth pushed passed the head, feeling the texture and moisture of his precum.

One little moan, one yank of your hair and half of him was inside. You choked but tried to regain your composure as he gave shallow little thrusts into your mouth. Each gag, each attempt to try and keep your gaze on him, all of it music to ears, art to his eyes. “Wish your mouth could take me the way your pussy does” He bit his bottom lip and thrusted a little harder, watching how your eyes water with yet another choke. He yanked you away from his stuff cock, a spit line connecting it to your shiny lips.

He allowed a few seconds of recovery before he yanked you back and fucked your mouth with a couple more quick hits. With half of his cock in your mouth, the tip just a tad past the point of your skills he stayed the faintest of moments, tapping your cheek with a smirk before pulling out. You took in greedy huffs of air and licked your swollen lips, the small tear tracks stained your cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful, a pain in the ass but the most beautiful one ever” Donnie spoke as he took himself in hand began to stroke himself. You felt a tired smile grace your lips, bitting your lip before opening your mouth. Oh that gutted him, made him stroke faster.

Your hands caressed his thighs, kneading the muscle and keep the salacious display of your parted lips for him. “Just-fuck-just like that, always dreamt of you like this, such a good doll, my little doll” His fist quickened, right around himself with every intention of spilling. The stutter of his hips was the tell tale sign, his palm flying to cover your eyes the next and the hot spurts of cum that landed against your tongue and chin the final. It was a shame he didn’t let you see him cum undone but judging from the size of his release he didn’t want you getting it in your eyes.

When he uncovered your gaze you took the moment to lick your lips clean just as his pumps settled into lazy stroking.

“Fuck, that was so good” You huffed out in laugh, fingers loving caressing his thighs again. Donnie chuckled, the final pumps to his spent dick sending a pleasant shudder. “You did so friggin good babe” You praised, even as ached for him.

But this was Donnie, he wouldn’t leave you hanging too long.

As he wiped a thumb across your soiled face, and plucked it into his mouth, his eyes said at all.

“I’m not through with you” He sucked the digit clean, brown eyes shinning with excitement still

“Take your pants off” Was all that demanding tone of his said.

And you wordlessly did as told.

You obeyed.

[blockgamepirate]

So we were talking on Discord about a DSMP superpowers AU, specifically Syndicate as an anarchist superhero team who are perceived as villains by pretty much everybody. (There were a bunch of people involved in the brainstorming but I wanna particularly credit @macachee for the idea for Techno’s superpowers, even though I ended up using a slightly different version than theirs.)

Anyway I know I don't really write fanfic anymore and I'm extremely rusty but uh... my hand slipped?

(CW: nothing major but there are repeated mentions of fire and some pretty tame violence)

×××

"Professor Underscore, I presume?"

The distinctive deep voice of an infamous supervillain was really not something anyone wanted to hear after 14 hours of last minute bug-fixing on a prototype superweapon in a secret laboratory. Especially when all your assistants had already called it a day and gone home.

Without even looking around, Tubbo reached for the gun in his desk drawer but before he could pull it out, a blade smashed into the wood right next to his hand.

"Nope", said the voice, "you don't get to have weapons, I get to have weapons. And speaking of weapons..."

Tubbo carefully turned around on his chair to face his attacker. As expected, it was a huge, hulking pigman dressed in flashy red and a golden mask.

"You are Protesilaus, aren't you? From the Syndicate?"

Protesilaus blinked at him. "You're a LOT younger than I expected, professor."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"I mean it's very impressive though, good for you."

"Thanks."

"So anyway, I'm here for the weapons."

"The weapons are kinda reserved already. You know, for the military."

"Don't give a shit", said a voice from the door. "Gib."

Protesilaus sighed. "Zephyrus, you're supposed to be the secret back-up."

The man hiding by the door frame laughed. "We already took care of the guards. There's nobody here but him, it's fiiine."

"But what if HE has his own secret back-up? What then? Well, it's too late now so just keep a look-out, alright?"

Zephyrus laughed again. "Sure."

"Alright." Protesilaus pointed his sword at Tubbo. "Show us to the weapons."

×××

There wasn't much he could think of doing to stall except try and tap in the pin codes on the doors as slowly as humanly possible. To be fair he didn't even really know what he was stalling for exactly. Secret back-up would have been nice but if they’d really taken out all the guards then none was likely to come.

Protesilaus was following him, sword in hand, making random small talk on the way as if he didn't know how to deal with the silence. Tubbo had only caught a few glimpses of Zephyrus, the winged man, in the background or in reflections. He seemed to be tampering with the security systems on the way, meaning that Tubbo really might be completely alone on this if the sabotage was successful. Zephyrus was also pulling along a big wheeled container of some sort that was probably intended for the weapons.

The two of them were the known members of the Syndicate, a team of anarchist terrorists who gave nightmares to the local police forces, the national guard and occasionally the military, but it was also widely theorized to have a secret third member with fire powers. Nobody had ever managed to catch them in the act, the only evidence of the secret member's existence was the trail of smoking ruins following the pair, their targets always burned down in a blaze of extremely memorable pink flames.

Tubbo had a theory that there were actually two secret members in the Syndicate, because if you're going to have one secret member you might as well have two, right? Maybe even three! It just made sense.

His assistants hadn't seemed convinced by this logic.

They arrived at the large hall leading up to the main vault where the prototypes were hidden and Tubbo finally had a plan. Somebody (probably him, honestly) had left the remote control of his battle bots lying around on a sidetable. He took advantage of his captors checking the space for surprise guards and inched slowly towards the remote.

"Everything good up there?" Protesilaus called out to Zephyrus who had flown up to the rafters.

"All good."

"Alright, seems safe enough", said Protesilaus. "Now, open the vault."

Tubbo just needed to stall a little bit longer until he could grab the remote undetected. "Actually, maybe I just won't be able to live with the fact that I let you guys get your hands on superweapons? What if I'd rather die than let you have them?"

Protesilaus sighed. "Look, don't worry, it's for a good cause, I promise."

"I mean, you guys are supervillains."

"Oh yeah sure, you're literally making weapons for an imperialist government but we're the villains?"

"What about that orphanage you burned down?" Tubbo kept moving towards the sidetable, trying to make it look like he was just pacing nervously.

"I have NEVER burned down any orphanages, I do NOT have an irrational hatred of small children, in fact I LOVE orphans in particular, you can ask anyone."

"You did, though! That was like two years ago, back when you were part of the Sleepy Bois Inc!"

Tubbo actually knew quite a lot about the Sleepy Bois, the infamous villain team who were particularly known for conning people into taking part in some sort of strange experiments, like that time they somehow transported a hundred people to the moon and told them to terraform a random area. The group had broken up a while back and two of the four had since reformed. Well, more or less reformed anyway. Actually not really reformed, but they were at least sticking to smaller crimes these days.

Anyway Mr. Business was now one of Tubbo's best friends, although nobody was supposed to know that. And Dirty Crime Boy seemed like a surprisingly nice guy. He was out there running what seemed to be some kind of a drug van but Tubbo had chosen not to worry about it too much.

The other two members, however...

"Sleepy Boys? Doesn't ring a bell." Protesilaus' face was suspiciously blank.

"You know, back when you called yourself the Blood God."

"Nah nah nah, I'm Protesilaus, not the Blood God."

"Come on, you're OBVIOUSLY the Blood God."

"I've never even heard of that guy."

"You're LITERALLY a pigman with superhealing powers and a shiny magical sword, you wear a crown AND you're hanging out with a blond guy with wings who looks just like the Angel of Death."

"Wow, wild coincidence", said Protesilaus

“Not gonna lie, the Angel of Death is a really cool name“, said Zephyrus.

Tubbo ignored them. "And you sound exactly like the Blood God."

"I don't hear it", said Protesilaus.

"You said you don't even know who he is!"

"Exactly."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'EXACTLY'??? THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!!!"

"Well I can't hear it if I've never even heard him speak. That's just logic."

Up in the rafters Zephyrus was cackling like a madman.

"You annoy me so much", said Tubbo.

"Aaaanyways, just give us a little peek into the vault, alright? Just out of curiosity, you know."

Tubbo had made it to the remote, he just needed one more distraction to cover for him grabbing it. "Uh..." Then he had an idea: he just took a quick sudden glance at the exit, as if he'd seen something over there and sure enough both of the criminals immediately turned to check. It was just long enough. He got the remote. "Okay fine, you can see the vault."

"Nice, nice." Protesilaus was still glancing around suspiciously but he had no idea what he should have been suspicious of.

Tubbo was more than happy to open the vault now. It might be holding the prototypes but it was also filled with a small army of robots.

All of which came to life with the press of a button.

"Ah", said Protesilaus. "There's his secret back-up."

"Oh Jesus", said Zephyrus. "I think we fucked up."

"You could say that", said Tubbo. "If you just leave peacefully I might let you go", he added in a sudden fit of uncharacteristic levels of confidence.

Protesilaus raised his sword. "Well you see, I really want those weapons, though."

"I guess you'll just have to fight the robots for it then", said Tubbo, configuring the targetting system.

"Mate, they've got guns on them", Zephyrus called out from above.

"Take cover then", said Protesilaus, very much not taking any cover at all himself.

Tubbo, pretty sure the bots knew which people to fight, released them on the criminals.

Protesilaus immediately managed to dodge the first few lazer bolts from the bots, but the third hit him on the arm. He flinched a bit but didn't seem too bothered. "Ouch. Okay so they can actually aim."

Still dancing around the shots, he held his hand to the wound and once he took it off, only the singed hole on his sleeve remained. The Blood God had been known for some kind of healing powers and coincidentally Protesilaus of the Syndicate, who apparently definitely wasn't the Blood God, just happened to also have healing powers. This fight was going to be hard even for thirty robots.

The pigman finally took some cover, hiding behind a pillar. The robots would have to move closer and Tubbo could already tell that if he'd manage to single them out, Protesilaus would easily take them down one by one.

Even worse, Zephyrus had hidden behind a different pillar up near the ceiling and was sniping the bots from above. They were supposed to be bulletproof but the man was absolutely cracked and managed to keep hitting them in the joints and in the eyes.

But at least the bots had given Tubbo some room to work with. He bolted into the vault and headed straight for a very specific section.

"So I just wanna know, professor", Protesilaus called out from the hall, "how are you NOT the evil mastermind here? You have a LITERAL horde of robots in your control that you can just let loose on people!"

"What do you MEAN? They're for fighting people like you! In this exact kind of situation!" Tubbo found what he was looking for and quickly unbuckled the huge harnesses holding it in place. He had to get a stool to reach the highest ones and nearly tripped on it in his hurry.

"Oh and how many of these have you sold to the government? And what if they just decide that they'd be very convenient for taking care of dissenters?"

"Well if the dissenters are literal supervillains, that sounds great." He climbed the ladder on the wall up to the platform by the mech suit and jumped inside.

He couldn't hear what Protesilaus responded after he pulled down the dome of the suit over his body. The sounds of fighting and the bulletproof glass drowned it all out from this distance, and the sound system wasn’t turned on yet. Now the odds should be a lot more even, though. Let’s see how they deal with this, he thought. He settled in and launched the mech--

... and then maneuvered awkwardly through the mess of secret weapons and machines inside his vault. He was pretty sure he didn't break too many things on the way, it was fine. In the corner of his eye he thought he saw a flash of pink and for a second he worried that the pigman had followed him into the vault where it would be almost impossible for him to fight in the suit but luckily he could still hear the sound of sword clanging into metal from outside.

He moved over to the vault door as sneakily as he could while piloting a 12-foot-tall machine in a tight space and looked out into the hall. The floor was littered with broken robots, and there were several blinded ones aimlessly wandering around and getting in the way of the ones that still functioned properly. Protesilaus was towards the back of the hall, stabbing a bot in the armpit and tearing off its arm, Zephyrus on the other hand, still perching on the rafters, had moved around the pillar he had hidden behind, now aiming away from the vault. Neither of them were looking at Tubbo. He took aim and shot at one of the huge grey wings.

"Ah! Fuck!" Zephyrus spun around. "You little shit!"

"Zephyrus, are you okay??" Protesilaus immediately looked over to his ally and took another hit himself.

"I'm FINE, dude!" Zephyrus sounded exasperated but fond. "Look out yourself! Also the kid has a fucking mech."

"A what?"

Tubbo slammed the vault door shut. Good luck getting in there now, Syndicate. Then he tossed aside some robot carcasses to clear out the floor and threw one at Protesilaus who dodged it easily but in the process took another hit from a different robot. He was starting to look tired and he was obviously distracted by Zephyrus getting hurt. That was promising.

Tubbo started climbing the pillar up to the ceiling. Zephyrus cursed again and tried to hop around the pillar to run across to the other side but his hurt wing didn't open properly so he lost his balance, slipped up and fell. "Shit!"

"ZEPHYRUS!"

The man managed to open his wings and soften the fall but the injury made him veer dangerously to the left and crash into a pile of broken robots. Protesilaus leaped over to him, dropping his sword and laying his hands on his friend's wing and back. A faint red glow emitted from the touch points.

Tubbo jumped back down to the ground and stormed at them. He punched the pigman right in the chin, sending him flying across the room. He then tried to grab Zephyrus but the man had already slipped away and had apparently managed to pick up his friend's sword. "You motherfucker", the man said, "I'm going to take that fucking suit apart and then it's your turn."

"Zeph!" Protesilaus called from the side and Zephyrus tossed the sword to him without taking his eyes of off Tubbo. Then the man pulled up his sniper rifle again and Tubbo quickly covered his weak points with his armoured arms and jumped behind a pillar. He needed to disarm Zephyrus ASAP.

Behind them, Protesilaus was taking care of the last few robots. Tubbo didn't have much time, but he couldn't do anything until Zephyrus would have to reload, the guy was just too accurate...

"Oh fuck", said Zephyrus suddenly. "Prot, the door!"

They all turned to look at the exit.

There, at the door, was Ranboo, widened eyes flicking between Tubbo, the broken robots and the Syndicade. He was holding a bowl of biscuits and a cup of tea. "Uh... hello? Hi?"

Ranboo was actually NOT allowed in the vaults but how do you stop someone who can literally teleport anyway? Tubbo was glad to see him sneaking in, though.

"Ranboo! Help! They're trying to steal the weapons!"

"I..." Ranboo seemed frozen in place.

"Ranboo!" Tubbo was starting to get worried. His husband wasn't even taking any shelter. He drove the mech over to him to at least give him some protection.

"I just came to bring you cookies? Coz I thought maybe you were staying late to make the deadline and I thought--"

"Ranboo, I'm being attacked by supervillains right now!"

"Look, what if we just talked this through? I'm sure everybody here would rather not kill each other, right?" Ranboo was tall enough to lay a hand on Tubbo's shoulder even when he was wearing the mech suit which kind of pissed Tubbo off to be quite honest.

"Sure", said Protesilaus, "I love negotiating. Give us the weapons and their blueprints and we're more than happy to go."

"See? That's good, right? Tubbo, we can just let them have the weapons."

"Ranboo, sometimes you're a bit too quirky for my liking. Stop being quirky, help me fight them. You can use your... T-E-L-I-P-O-R-T-A-T-I-O-N powers."

Everybody just stared at him for a second.

"Shouldn't it be T-E-L-E?" said Protesilaus.

"Tubbo, you realise they can spell words too, you know, like most people who graduated elementary school?" said Ranboo.

"I'M SORRY! I'M TIRED, OKAY?"

“You could have just said ‘use your powers’, I mean, I know what my powers are.”

“IT'S BEEN A REALLY LONG DAY!“

"Zephyrus, I think this guy might be too much for us, I've never met such intimidating intellect", said Protesilaus. Zephyrus seemed to already be dying of laughter and his ally's words did not help.

"Now that's just rude," said Tubbo.

He'd barely finished his sentence when a horrible whistling sound hit them all like an invisible cargo train. After a second Tubbo managed to reassemble his braincells long enough to figure it out: "The fire alarm!"

Then he noticed the grin on his enemy's face. "Well, good job, everyone! Let's go home, Zephyrus", said Protesilaus cheerfully.

"Sure, mate."

The secret third member of the Syndicate, Tubbo suddenly remembered. The container they'd brought with them was gone too. Well, fuck. "This whole thing was a diversion??"

"Yep." The Protesilaus was already at the exit and Zephyrus was following right behind him. "See ya, losers!"

Something inside the vault exploded, making a muffled bang through the door, as if just to prove where exactly the fire had been lit.

"Oh man..." Tubbo flopped down on his seat. "I spent SO LONG building all those things!"

"Tubbo, we need to get out." Ranboo took him by the hand of his mech suit and pulled him along.

"No, we could still go in and save the--"

"No, Tubbo. Let's NOT run into the vault full of dangerous chemicals that's literally on fire, actually."

×××

By the time the fire department showed up, pink flames had enveloped the entire lab complex. The terrorists presumably had at least one of the prototypes now and all the remaining ones were a lost cause.

It's not like all the work was gone to waste, they'd made some backups at least, but it would be a pain to find a new lab and order all the extremely volatile chemicals again. So much paperwork. Tubbo was really not good at paperwork.

"Well, there goes my summer holidays I guess", he said.

"Yeah", said Ranboo. "There they go."

×××

"So... Lethe", said Techno at the next Syndicate meeting, "you never happened to mention you were friends with Professor Underscore."

Ranboo shifted nervously in his chair. "I mean... in my defence, you never said you were going to raid his lab?"

"True, true. It didn't seem like relevant information at the time I suppose. You know, because you're kinda more in the group just for the book club and Bake Off Fridays and not so much for the vigilante thing."

"How do you know Professor Underscore, Lethe?" asked Niki gently.

Ranboo looked around the table. He was fairly certain that the others wouldn't kill him for fraternizing with the enemy. He was pretty sure anyway. At least 70% sure.

Also they were all staring at him now.

"Uh... he's my... husband?"

The staring continued.

"Oh!" said Niki.

"Well", said Techno. "This is awkward."

"Uh huh?" Ranboo responded, his entire body tense and slightly wobbly.

"Techno", Phil said softly. Techno brushed him off.

"So uh, are you attached to him, Lethe?"

"Y-yes?" Ranboo straightened his back. "Yes." he said again, more firmly.

"Alright. I guess in the future we should try not to kill him then."

[simpsiren]

the ukiyo standalone;

park jisung x reader

Jisung is everyone’s joy and prized possession. Being the youngest of his friend group and with his child-like nature, he’s certainly the one that everyone favours. He’s adorable, innocent, pure. You would think he’s well known in college but in actuality, he’s pretty hidden, living his life in the shadow of his friends. He didn’t mind it really. He didn’t need to feel the crowd prying their eyes into his business like his friends, which was why he actually isn’t seen with them often in the first place, he didn’t need to stand out.

genre. fluff, angst, emotional, heart warming aNd heart breaking 

word count. 20k~

description. In this current fast pace world, there was never really a time I could take a break. I did choose this path as a lawyer major knowing I would be drowning myself with papers every single night and pulling all-nighters for an inhumane number of days. As much as I want or even need to rest, I never could. This was the path I’ve chosen. And my pride was too high to let myself stop the grind. That is until I made a mistake of calling an unknown number who belonged to a guy named Jisung at the campus library. I thought he was a waste of time till I realised he showed me to slow down, not having to force my body to move with the world’s speed, to be my ukiyo; my floating world.

!as they should masterlist!

Jisung liked doing social experiments. It was practically his side hobby, something he’d do when there wasn’t anything important on his to-do list. He was simply interested at how the students at his campus would react upon weird occurrences around them. It got students talking whenever he did something, the fact that they didn’t know it was his doing is one of the reasons why he does it in the first place.

On this particular night, where Jisung was staring out of his window from his study table that was directly in front of it, giving the clearest view of the stars and especially the bright moon that reflected its light through his cracked open window and onto his study table, he was wondering about what to do next. What would get people to feel weirded out. What would get them to react a certain way.

When an idea came to mind, the light bulb hovering over his head switched on, the gears began to turn. It wasn’t the most brilliant idea, but it could go both ways. Either the students don’t bother even taking in their surroundings to notice it, or suffer the loss of not getting help. Jisung’s a dance major but he liked doing these projects for the fun of it so might as well. Jisung peeled off a random piece of sticky note from the stack with his other stationeries. Clicking his pen, he immediately went to writing.

When times you aren’t feeling fine, just call this number. I’ll try to be available 24/7.

Jisung frowned slightly and tilted his head. If he were to paste his numbers all over the school, he would probably be bombarded with calls every two seconds. It also didn’t make sense for him to be available 24/7. Clearly that was impossible. His frown deepened. He thought for a long moment, trying to phrase a sentence that was more suitable for what he wanted to do. With a smack of his lips and an unsure hiss, he grabbed a new sticky note and started again.

Glad you came to notice this note laying wherever you are in the library. Feeling stressed? Need someone to talk to? Simply need a friend? My number’s below. You don’t have to know who I am. I’m just here to help you out, mentally I guess. I’m available from 1PM-3AM. Call whenever you feel the need to. Have a nice day :D (don’t worry I’m not some stalker or whatever i’m just a bored student here)

Jisung clicked his pen against the table to close it, his eyes scanning over his words, which might he add was beautifully written, like calligraphy. Jisung couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that thought. He threw the pen off to the side and went to his printer with the sticky note, now moving on to making copies. He wanted to copy a reasonable number, not too little till no one noticed or too many till it was extremely obvious, but well enough for him to get at least a small chance of getting a response. With a number in mind, he began printing.

The next day, he went for his lecture in the morning. He preferred having the morning lectures just so he could spend the rest of his day doing whatever. And on today’s agenda was the pasting of his notes. With the weight of his bag pulling his shoulders and back down, he wished he could go back to the dorms right now and start of his assignment but he wanted to settle this first.

He entered the library. It wasn’t too crowded. Students were fairly spaced apart from each other in the study area, sparse. Some students were at shelves. With his hands still shoved into the pockets of his black Adidas jacket, he make his way over to a random study table. He needed to do this quick to avoid suspicion. But why would students notice anyway? They had their heads digged into whatever work that was incomplete.

Jisung slowed himself down and took out the a note from the small file he had in his bag along woth a large clear tape role. He had to put his bag down, searching for the scissors. He cut a reasonable amount of tape after placing the note in the bottom right corner and placed it over top, sealing the note onto the table. Jisung back away for a moment, taking a long look at it. It was small, but still noticeable. With a satisfied shrug, he went on to do the same for some other tables, even going to bookshelves and randomly pasting them anywhere he wished.

What he didn’t know, was that he was being watch.

I had my brain wrapped around this essay for who knows how long now. Hours, days. Having to redo my research for the fith time was about to have my head spinning till it lolled, out of energy and brain power to hold up. I stared down at the notes scattered all over. The table was a huge mess, loosing track of how many pages I’ve flipped and how many articles I read online, as well as time of course. I sighed quietly, leaning back and closing my eyes, wanting to rest them for a brief moment.

When my eyelids opened back, I couldn’t help but notice the person that had been hovering around the study tables for far too long. It was distracting, watching him move from table to table at the corner of my eye. And though my attention had been on my papers, he was still to be seen in my peripheral vision. I blinked my eyes rapidly and shook my head, refusing to let a small matter tick me off to the point where I wasn’t able to do my work.

I straightened my back and adjusted my shoulders. Closing back my eyes, I took in a deep breath, chest puffing up as I gave myself a determined nod. I shot my eyes back open and with full exhilaration running through my veins, I got back to work, shutting the world out so it was just me and my work, wanting to get it done and over with.

Again I lost track of time, but in a much more productive way than how I was in the morning. I didn’t have classes today, making full use of my free time on my work. I pressed the final key on my keyboard, ending my essay with an exhale of satisfaction. I leaned back into the seat, throwing my head back till it went past the backrest. I placed my hands on the arms of the chair, and it was then did I realise that the library was extremely quiet.

I took in my surroundings, slow scanninv my eyes over the library. It was already dark, some areas pitch black while other were visible with the help of the moonlight shining through the windows. It was only the light at my study table that illuminated the area around with a orange hue. I didn’t mind being the inly one here, but sometimes it felt eerily quiet, like tonight. I grabbed my phone that was shoved into my bag. Lifting it up in front of me, the lockscreen showed itself, as well as the ungodly hour blaring at me.

“Three in the morning? How did I even...” I tilted my head slowly in awe, surpised at just how time flew by when I was immersed in completing my assignment. I read through my essay, having to close my eyes halfway due to how bright the screen of my laptop was. I was scanning through the first paragraph when I immediately went to shut down, already too tired to have one last scan through and making the mental decision of doing it tomorrow.

I packed up immediately, the thought of my bed and sleeping now being the number one priority. I shoved all my things in my tote bag, slinging it on my right shoulder. I was already taking off, a mere few steps away from the exit when I saw something shining at the corner of my eye. I stopped and turned on my heel to the study table. Slowly, my eyes trailed to the bottom right corner where the source of my pause came from. Turned out it was simply the light reflected of a tape. But upon further inspection, I went closer noticing it wasn’t just tape, but a note.

I read it over, having to brush some strands of hair behind my ear that was annoyingly covering the note. I quirked an eyebrow in a questioning manner, leaning back to my standing form once I was done reading, yet my eyes were glued to the impressively written note. “Who gives out their number just like that?” I couldn’t help but wonder under my breath. Too tired to even register any more information, I let this weird occurrence slid out of my mind, continuing to make my way out of the library and back to my dorm where I instantly fell asleep with no second thoughts.

The next day I got up, the light shining through the small holes of my curtain blinding me awake. I searched for my phone under my pillow, plugging out its charger while I scrolled through my social media, specifically Twitter. The first thing that popped up on my timeline was a tweet from the campus’s very own account. No one knows who it was made by, but you can bet that whoever they are has their eyes everywhere around the school, tweeting about the latest gossips or news around campus grounds. Today’s one sparked a memory from last night.

Someone’s at it again stirring up the attention of our students by having their number out in the open for everyone to see in our library. Was there more to it than just wanting to offer help through call service?

I scoffed, glancing away for a moment before retrieving my gaze back to my phone. “Do they actually want people calling them?” I asked myself while scrolling my thumb up to look at the other tweets below. It did come to my attention that night, now picturing the note in my mind. I didn’t remember the number, but it was there, and something about it was drawing the curiosity in me to find out more. With a grunt I shot myself out of bed, getting ready to head to the library again to study.

I hadn’t expected how much time would pass by just from me studying. I’ve been in the library for almost a full day. I was being sent on an emotional roller coaster ride. Some hours being a breeze as I studied the easiest topics, while others had me wanting to rip my hair off my scalp from trying to shove all the information in my brain when it felt like it was at its full capacity. I wasn’t myself today. I kept looking at my phone that was a distraction, which was something I never did at all while studying. I was off the edge.

With exams coming up in a month’s time, I knew I was studying too much too early. But I always had to stick to my life motto. “Get it done and over with.” I muttered to myself. But tonight, at one in the morning, my body and mind couldn’t register any more information. I couldn’t. I was tired, exhausted. Drained. The stress came barreling in full force and I hated how I was making myself feel this way by always being on edge and doing things too fast to keep up with everything else in life.

Wanting to clear my head, I began gathering some of my notes, stacking them up to the clean the table that was in a huge mess. My eyes have grown used to this sight, but I was simply cleaning for the sake of procrastinating and putting off the desire to complete aoother topic. When I was done cleaning one section of the table, something struck my attention. I looked to the bottom right corner of the table. And there it was. The note that’s been in the hidden folds of my mind when I pushed them back to focus on studying.

My eyes went from left to right, specifically at the number since I’ve remembered the note unusually vividly. “Should I?” I whispered. I looked around, no one was to be seen. Weird, since I’d usually see at least one student here despite the late hour. I exhaled softly, letting the cold air that circulated around me in the night cool my skin while I picked up my phone from the table and keyed in the number. I wasn’t thinking about what I was getting myself into. At this point, I was already overloaded with my studies that I was malfunctioning, clearly not thinking straight.

I placed the phone up to my ear, leaning forward and letting my upper body rest against the table while I placed my chin in the palm of my free hand. The ringing went on for five times, and I was about to hang up when I heard the sound of the phone being picked up. “Hey. Who’s this?” It was a guy. Could it be the one that I saw lurking around that day? I gulped and cleared my throat, opening my mouth and letting out an “Uh..” while trying to figure out what to say. “Your number is here. One the study table at the library.” I simply said, wondering what he’ll respond with.

Sudden shuffles could be heard. It went on for a brief moment till he exclaimed, “Oh! Right, right. Hey! I’m at your service, what do you need?” His voice sounded dry and coarse, like he had forgotten to drink water before he slept. Was he sleeping and picked up while he’s half asleep? I ran a hand through my hair, adjusting to get comfortable. “A listening ear. That’s all I need.” I murmured through the speaker. I had to let it all out. And it came to the point where I’d rather actually talk to a stranger about my problems than anyone I knew. But that’s how we all are nowadays, right? Too self conscious and simply wanting to put on an act for the whole world.

“Go on. I’m all ears.” He replied back, sounding attentive and somewhat interested. I didn’t want to think much of it. He was clearly like this to everyone else who called for “his service”. Being receptive and responsive. Kind and willing. That’s what he sounded like. The first person to actually say something that felt like all those things at once, to me.

“Do...” I trailed off, shaking my head and wondering what I even wanted to say in the first place. I smacked my lips. “Don’t you just feel tired? Of like the whole world. Everything and everyone around you. You’re tired physically and emotionally.” He hummed in response. “Of course I do. A lot of people feel that.” I scoffed softly, biting my bottom lip. “Yes but, the other thing that’s making me tired... is myself. I have this habit of just overloading my brain with lots of things. It feel as if I’m making myself stress on purpose.” I couldn’t help but chuckle weakly as the words left my lips.

“I always wanted to the best I could be. And that led to me just grinding and grindinv everyday with no end. I barely get to sleep, and even if I did. I’ll wake up and the whole cycle will repeat itself. I fucking hate that I’m in this loop. But I chose to be here. I can’t break out.” My voice began to crack. It took me awhile to realise that I was crying till my tears fell on the papers and made its mark by crinkling the paper while it soaked up my tears. I blotched them off my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Hey, if-”

“And don’t.” I cut him off instantly before he could even utter another word. “Don’t tell me other people are going through the same thing.” I shut my eyes close, heaving a slow and heavy sigh. “I know. Everyone in my major goes through the same process. I’m weak. Even though I try to act like I’m the best student. My tolerance level can go down the drain for all I care.” I paused for a moment, mentally telling himt to resume whatever he wanted to say but knew he couldn’t read my mind.

But from the pause he knew what it meant and picked it up quickly, clearing his throat. “I was about to say if you want to cry, you can. I can tell that you’re holding it in and I don’t even need to see you.” I sniffled, the feeling of wanting to burst into tears again came about, rising in my body and making my chest clench. “It’s okay.” As if on cue, I screamed, cried, poured it all out. I threw my phone down, the call still on as I wailed into my palms, pressing my face against them. I’ve never had such a breakdown in months, simply shoving it to the back of my mind and kept ignoring it till it came out like this. A full blown terror.

I wanted to talk, yet my mouth couldn’t form any words. All that came out were sniffles as I calmed myself down. “I don’t really have much to say on this. And you probably don’t even want to hear me talk but you should take a break. Really. Just one day. You need it. Because you seriously don’t sound okay.” I couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh, a very weak and effortless one. “I never thought of that, Captain Obvious.” I rolled my eyes, a smile cracking through for a brief moment.

He chuckle on the other end of the line. “You thought of it but didn’t put it into action.” He stated, sounding slightly firm. “Yes.” I admitted dryly. A few beats of silence passed, I could hear his breathing, calm and soothing. “I think I should, um, go now?” It was suppose to be a statement but due to me trying to recover from my mess, it came out as a question. I could hear him licking his lips. “Yes of course. Oh and hey.” “Yeah?”

“Do you need help with that rest day of yours?” I didn’t reply, giving it a long throught. “I probably won’t even be doing it.” I said through a sigh, beginning to pack up my things to head out of the library. “But you should. Actually, you will. I want to make sure of it.” I couldn’t help but furrow my eyebrows at his unexpected tone of determination. “Don’t you have other people to attend to for your call service?” I questioned.

“You’re actually the first one.” I could tell he was feeling rather embarrassed, letting out a tight laugh after his statement. “And I don’t even know who you are.” I was now walking out of the library, phone still to the ear while I adjusted my tote bag on my shoulder. “For starters, I’m a dance major. I’d like to mostly keep my identity hidden for now. Unless you want to meet.”

I gaped my mouth open ever so slightly, somewhat in disbelief. “You want to meet?” I echoed his question back to him, head tilted mere degrees to the side. “Well I have to make sure you have that rest day of yours. How can I when I don’t meet you?” I chuckled softly, the corner of my lips perking up. “I’ll think about it. At least I have your number now.”

“Always at your service, miss. Have a good night.”

With that, the call ended. I didn’t realisd just how much time passed by simply talking to him. It went by so fast. It was already getting pretty late by the time I checked my phone for the time. I made my way back to the dorm, the cold breeze of the night kissing my skin gently and blowing strands of hair into my face that I had to brush off. I looked up to the sky, for once the world was quiet, at rest, and just for these few hours, I had always admired how I could breathe the freedom of mere minutes while I went to the dorm.

Yet, while admiring the ink black sky, the conversation I had with the call service guy resonated in my head, I laughed at how weird it was, pouring all that I’ve bottled up till now to someone who was of no significance to me. He probably won’t even remember we had this conversation, only passing it on as his first service call. He was also only doing his job, simply being there for me to talk. Why was I even taking this seriously? I could never rest. I could never take a break. I always had moments like these to treasure at heart before I awaken to everything going full speed yet again.

I walked to the lecture hall, watching students happily walking on campus with their friends with the sky a mix of blue and white. It was a regular day. Hopefully, if I didn’t have any assignment and I could focus on studying.

Just then, a whole ton of screaming could be heard, but it was muffled and drowned out due to how far I was from the source. But it sounded horrendous. As if a boy band had just entered the campus and send billions of fangirls to their way. I wanted to continue walking but the squeals of excitement got louder and closer to me. I turned my head to the back. “Ah... why didn’t I think about that?”

There’s the group of guys again. Too popular for their own good. Everyone was shouting their names, swooning over each one of them. I wonder how they didn’t find having to deal with that annoying. Or perhaps it was just an act. I backed away from the hallway to watch them strut by casually, the group of girls following closely behind. But just then, for a brief moment, a guy wearing a black adidas jacket walked past me, mutttering “I really shouldn’t have followed you guys today.” He rolled his eyes and went out of sight. I turned my head to the right, where I could now see his back. He looked petite yet lean, with orange hair of a natural tone, the under part of it being black. What stood out to me the most was his adidas jacket. Wasn’t that the one from the library?

“Do you guys actually go through that every single day?” Jisung groaned out finally taking a breath of fresh air as they entered the room, feeling as if he got swallowed by all the attention throughout their trip to the playroom. Mark picked up a basketball from the side and began bouncing it casually to the couch where the rest were getting settled. “Today’s especially crazy because it’s our group’s anniversary.” Jisung gave an unimpressed look. “Do you think I don’t know that?” He shrugged in a blasé, god-could-care sort of way.

“How’s your call service thing going? We know it’s was your doing. My timeline’s blowing up about it this whole time.” Jeno questioned. Jisung sat at the corner of the couch. placing his forearm on the armrest and leaning his body to it. “Funny how it’s all girls and they all talked about how they couldn’t get you guys to notice them. It always had something to do with one of you.” Jisung laughed carelessly, remembering back the calls he’d been receiving throughout today. Jisung tried his best to suppress his laughter to not sound rude. Even if Jisung found it ridiculous, he wasn’t in the place to say anything about it. His call service was meant for him to console the people who called, no matter the situation he was being told.

However, another thought that came to focus was the call that he specifically had late in the night. It was his first call. And whoever that girl was, she certainly made an impression on Jisung. How she was letting it all out, being free enough to tell someone like him about such deep feelings. It was raw and transparent. The conversation never left his mind. Jisung zinged back to attention when he heard Haechan scoff loudly. He turned to him, seeing him leaned back, shoulders and back relaxed and cool while he had his weight placed on his leg and his arms folded. He then clicked his tongue and said, “Not surprised.” nonchalantly, clearly showing that he was already used to the large amount of girls swooning over him through his voice.

“So are you guys free tonight? We could take a break and hang out.” Everyone nodded their heads followed by hums filling the room signaling that everyone agreed, except for Jisung. “Jisung, you in?” Renjun asked. Jisung took in a deep breath, glancing sideways and giving it a thought. He slowly shook his head. “Why? Are you busy?” Chenle asked quizzically. “Have an assignment.” Jisung blurted out, though he had other reasons.

The rest planned to head out together after spending time in the playroom. Jisung was left in his dorm, pacing back and forth from one end of his room to the other, eyes looking to his phone each time to turned. What was he waiting for? He wanted to ask himself, as if he didn’t already knew the answer. He was so drawn in to her. The way she spoke, the honesty in her voice. It’s as if he didn’t even need to look at her to know how she was moving and what she was doing.

Jisung scratched his head furiously and on the edge of his bed heavily, grabbing his phone and letting it sit in hand loosely. “She wouldn’t call again, would she? But I did imply that she could meet me if she wanted to. She might not even call again.” Jisung muttered to himself constantly, hopping from one possibility to another, raising his hopes up and bringing them back down. Jisung groaned loudly in frustration.

“Why am I even...” Jisung threw his phone to his bed and stood up again with a grunt, wanting to resume his assignment that was almost finished. All it took was one call to have him this tangled and have his mind wrapped around a simple phone call. Worst part is he didn’t even knew if he could ever see her. He could only depend on his chances and luck that she’d want to contact him again.

This time I decided to study in my dorm, too lazy to go down to the library. It wasn’t the best environment to study. My bed was literally mere inches away from my study table, constantly wanting to pull me into throwing myself on it and shut out each time I looked at it. It was a bad decision to have my room planned out like that, but I was too lazy to move it. I tapped the end of my pen against the table rapidly, my mind going black as I simply stared at a random spot on the wall. I wasn’t having the adrenaline to do my work today. I was simply doing it for the sake of doing it, not having a clear goal.

I turned to my phone, being a remembrance of my call with the service guy. I had thought about it the whole day, whether I should give him a call. But I was overthinking it. What if he’s busy? What if he had other people’s call to deal with? All sorts of questions popped up, but after giving it a long thought, I flipped my phone screen faced down harshly, shaking my head vigorously and tensing my hands on my scalp.

“Concentrate.” I stated out boldly to myself right smack in the face. I repeated the same word as I got ready to resume my studying. I couldn’t be thinking about a mere call. It was just a call. One time I let out my now spilled out feelings. I was empty now, so there shouldn’t be a need for another call. I could continue what I always did.

Jisung’s friends had been realising how he’s been zoning out more often than usual. And he wasn’t as outwardly as he had always been. They pampered him a lot and treated him like their own child. But there was something that made Jisung feel different around them. Jaemin nudged Jisung in the elbow, making him jolt to sit up right in shock and shooting his head to Jaemin. “Huh?” Jisung let out.

“Have you been okay lately? You seem to have something on your mind often.” Jaemin asked, his eyes scanning the room and seeing the rest of their friends minding their own businesses. Jisung blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head. “You sure?” Jisung puffed up his cheeks and let the air out through a sigh. “You know my call service?” Jisung began, he knew Jaemin would recognise the slightest change in Jisung’s behaviour. Everyone did, that was how much they cared about him. But Jaemin was the first one to bring it up so might as well. Everyone will know eventually.

Jaemin hummed in response. “My first call. It was very late into the night when. It’s a girl. And hers, was different than the rest I’ve received. As she talked, I felt that she was hiding nothing from me. That she was letting it all out for me to hear, not caring about who I was.” Jisung whispered. “I felt her desperation, her cries of help. Though she said she’ll manage it somehow, I got the feeling that she wouldn’t be able to. That she’ll crumble the more she continued.” Jaemin nodded his head slowly, processing Jisung’s words. “And so?”

“I mentioned to her that if she ever needed a call, she could do so. Or better if we meet. But she never called. And I don’t know who she is, which is what’s been on my mind. The frustration that she made such an impact yet I haven’t found out who she is.” Jaemin puckered his lips and looked upwards thoughtfully. “Did she mention anything about herself? Her major, or anything?” Jisung recalled their conversation that was etched in his mind. Jisung frowned and shook his head.

“What time did she call?” “One or two in the morning?” Jaemin gasped in disgust. “Who the hell-”

“Law and psychology students.” Jeno suddenly came into the conversation seamlessly and casually. Jisung leaned back and raised brows. “Really?” Jisung asked. Jeno scoffed and nodded. “They have tons of shit to study. From what Jaehyun tells me, they’re always staying up super late going through papers.” Jeno imitated a gag and a shiver in objection. “I could never.” He added.

“There’s so many students in those majors. How am I going to find her?” Jeno arched a questioning brow. “Find who?” Jisung sighed and motioned a hand to Jeno while looking at Jaemin, raising his brows for a moment. Jaemin waved a hand at Jeno when Jisung dropped his hand on his lap. “I’ll tell you guys later.” With that, Jeno shrugged mindlessly and went off. Jaemin adverted his attention back to Jisung, who looked even more discouraged than before.

“My poor baby. Listen, I’m sure you made an impression just like how she did on you. If she doesn’t call again, who knows. She might try finding you instead of giving you a call. Or you can just pray and gamble your luck. If you want, I’ll help you find her. You know my connections always come in handy.” Jaemin flashed a reassuring smile that Jisung didn’t hesitate to reciprocate, though it was smaller. “I’ll figure something out.” Jisung muttered, clicking his tongue.

I didn’t want to do this at first, but it kept bugging me the whole day, as if it was something that just had to be done by occupying my mind for almost the whole day. I walked out of the lecture hall, head scanning across the campus with my eyes wide open and attentive to find him.

From what I remembered, he said he was a performing arts major. And the only person I knew in that major was the one and only Ten, who I always saw lurking around the cafés on campus while I made my way back to the dorm. Luckily, I saw him sitting on a bench outside one of the cafés, munching on something while he played his phone. I instantly ran up to him, feeling a sense of hope rising while I accidentally poked Ten in the arm too hard to get his attention, causing him to wince. He looked up and recognised me, instantly flashing a welcoming smile.

“Oh, hey!” Ten shouted, his eyes forming a thin line while he waved at me with his chocolate croissant in hand. “Can I ask something briefly and perhaps even do me a favour?” I asked, slow and nervous with uncertainty. Ten raised his eyebrows quizzically. “Mm sure.” He simply replied. I exhaled and looked him in the eye. “I’m assuming you’re having your break now. Would it be possible for you to take me to your practice room? I know it’s random but I have something I need to check.”

Ten didn’t reply for a long minute, probably wondering why such a vague request came out from someone who would most likely have her time occupied almost 24/7. After waiting in anticipation, he finally shrugged and rose from the bench with a grunt. He proceeded to stretch his back, turning side to side and sighing in satisfaction. “Alright. I can take you there now.” With that, he went forward down the hall, walking as if leaving me behind. I stared at his back for a moment before quickly moving up to meet his pace.

We didn’t talk on the way there. Luckily I didn’t have to worry about us being awkward since the walk from the cafés to the practice room was only a few minutes. I was looking around when I almost bumped into Ten due to his sudden stop of motion and turning to face a door. I peeked inside and I could already see the full wall mirror that I saw dancers usually use. I turned to Ten, who jerked his head to the door, motioning me to open and enter the room.

The moment I placed my hand on the door handle, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervousness in me, wondering if I would even find him since I have zero idea on how he looked like. The only evidence I had was the fact that I saw someone wearing an adidas jacket who I assumed to be the one I was looking for. But that was such an unreliable assumption that I knew I couldn’t fully trust, but still try to find a way to use it to my advantage either way.

I pushed the door open, instantly bombarded with hard stomps coming from the people dancing. I felt the floor shake tremendously from the intimidating impact that created. The music was blasting from the speaker in front of them, along with a bottle which I assumed to be marked as the center of the stage. I watched silently, feeling Ten’s presence behind. With a glance over my shoulder, I could tell he was eyeing the performance with much concentration and intensity, eyes squinting as if analysing each and every one of their movements to a T.

I brought my focus back on them. It didn’t take my eyes long for it to focus on one person. The adidas jacket guy. One guy was wearing it. He was also wearing a black cap, blonde hair poking out from the bottom. His figure was small yet attractively lean. I couldn’t see his face at all. Yet, I was so drawn to him. Not just because he could’ve been the one I was looking for, but the fact that his dance was engaging, and nothing compared to the rest.

They got to a moment where everyone exited and it was just him alone in the center of the room while others waited by the sidelines. My mouth gaped open slightly, watching him go. His movements are seemingly perfect, every part of his body moving fluidly like water yet intricate and hard hitting. It was impactful, loud. He stood out, and I could picture the whole room going dark with a single light shining on him, and only him. I could tell he was expressing himself and giving his all. I didn’t need to have background knowledge on dance to see that in him.

The dance lasted for about five minutes, and I had my eyes locked on Adidas Jacket guy the whole time, too immersed to the point where I didn’t even feel Ten poking my shoulder. “_____?” He called out, making me blink my eyes rapidly upon hearing his voice and turning my head around. “Yeah?” Ten ruffled his hair. “They’re done. You can check whatever you need to check now.” I let out a soft, “Um...” while turning my head back to the front, eyes glazing over the room and looking for Adidas Jacket. I stood there frozen, not exactly sure what I even wanted to do in the first place.

I turned around fully to face Ten, adjusting my tote bag. “Actually, I think I’m good. I’ll go now. See you around?” It was more of a greeting than a question. But either way, Ten downshifted his head and moved his body out of my way to the door. “You too. Come more often if you’d like.” Ten smiled kindly. I simply reciprocated back the smile and walked out, not saying anything about Ten’s last comment.

At the dorm, I had my arms and legs spread out while I laid on my bed, blankly staring at the plain white ceiling while I tried to connect the dots, or even just simply having everything laid and mapped out in my mind. How was I even sure that could be him? His physique seemed to be similar from what I remembered, the jacket was another clue too. But how could I confirm it? I have yet to check the time the moment I came back, and I already knew hours had gone by.

“Who even are you?” I asked to the ceiling, directing it to the mysterious call service guy who had my mind hung up in him and having my busy life off balance.

“Who are you?” Jisung questioned silently, though it was loud enough that Renjun had to peek his head over the bunk bed to look at Jisung who was below. “What are you talking about?” Renjun asked. Jisung turned his head to the side, showing Renjun his side profile and closing his eyes with a quiet sigh. “It’s nothing.” Renjun shrugged and headed back to sleep.

Jisung had his mind on her the entire time, who could she be, how he could find her, and even where to start? He knew nothing about her. And that’s the thing. He didn’t know exactly what was making him think about her so much, it was just their call in general. He had zero information on her. And if what Jeno said was true, then he was probably thinking about going through such extend with his idea to get even a glimpse of her.

That very day once he ended his dance practice which was around evening with the sun beginning to shine brightly, he went to the library. What was his plan exactly? He wanted to wait in the library till he could find her. But how would he even know? He didn’t even know why he was doing this in the first place. He was simply placing his bet on faith and praying that the hours he was about to spend in the most dreadful place ever would not go to waste.

Not knowing what to do, he ended up huddled in a corner of the library, using the bookshelves on both sides of him to lean back and rest his head. He hated being in libraries, he hated anything to do with academics, which was why he chose to pursue his passion for dance. Though there was still dance theory, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. But being surrounded by books that offered him no information he wanted to know about had him feeling dizzy and bored to death.

He checked the time on his phone, eyes widening at how late it was. He felt his stomach squeezing, a low grumble coming from it while desperately asking for food to enter his system. He face suddenly lit up, remembering how he had leftover bread from the bread store he dropped by during his break. He instantly took it out and ate, watching the sun come down through the windows and turning the sky from blazing red to ink black, welcoming the night with the moonlight shining in.

He has yet to notice anyone that caught his eye. He started to think that he could have possibly missed his chance. What if she was here but left when Jisung had his guard down? What if she wasn’t even here to begin with? Should he just leave and not waste more time? Jisung was desperately holding onto his last string of hope, that was already fraying and could snap in a matter of seconds. Too tired of staying in one place, he decided to take a walk around the library.

Jisung went to the study area, the spot where he stood from gave him a clear view of everyone in their seats. Fair enough, there were students who looked like they were about to stay the whole night here, which made Jisung sniffled in disgust. How could anyone even put up with that much studying?

He was roaming and scanning his eyes lazily over the books tucked neatly and tightly on the shelves, taking long strides while he walked. Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his hand. He brought it up in front of him, seeing an unknown number displayed. Picking up the call, and he greeted, “Hey! Always at your service. What do you need?” in the most cheerful way he could put out. Though the exaggerated sigh he let out while picking up the call might’ve been heard from the other end.

“Um hey. I don’t think you remembered me but I’m the first one to call. You know uh, stressed out girl? Need a rest day girl?” Jisung widened his eyes at the realisation. It was her. “Uh...” He stammered, quickly bringing his phone down to take a screenshot of her number before placing it back on his ear. “Hey! How have you been? Glad you called again.” Jisung turned around to lean again the bookshelf, arms folded while he looked down.

“It’s been fine.” She replied. Jisung could already feel the uneasiness in her tone, shining through her words. “You aren’t.” Jisung stated outwardly, unintentionally sounding harsh. “Have you taken your rest day?” Jisung asked out of pure curiosity. This was the moment of lucky coincidence, one that he had to make full use of so he wouldn’t let her slip out of his grasp. “Not exactly? I’m at the library again. Had to complete a project.” Jisung’s eyes widened again, this time till his eye ball could’ve fallen out of his eye sockets.

Jisung quickly and hurriedly made his way to the study area, where he last stood. And there she was. He could feel the hairs behind his neck standing upright like soldiers with goosebumps being sent all over his body. She’s the only student there, the orange lamp illuminating the small area surrounding her. Jisung could only see her back unfortunately. Jisung would’ve ran up to her and surprised her. But something in him made him want to just admire her from afar. “You seem to be putting that rest day off? Have it tomorrow. It’s a Friday either way.” Jisung mentioned, eyes narrowing down on her back.

Jisung watched as she sighed and a ran a hand through her hair quickly, somewhat in distress. “Can you force me to?” She whispered, lowering her voice. Jisung blinked his eyes for a moment. “You want me to force you? I don’t want you feeling forced.” She chuckled through the phone, sending a shiver down Jisung’s spine. “I know I won’t do it on my own will. I’m just like that. Like I said before, I’m basically driving myself into insanity trying to keep up with my work. Always grinding, always on the edge. And I can never slip off once.”

I called on impulse. My hands couldn’t keep away from typing in the same number now permanent on the bottom right corner of the table. As I hear him speak on the other end, I weirdly felt safe, and comfort. A sense of calmness. “I’m anxious that if I shut myself from the world from one day, I’ll miss out on a lot, and just stress over it while I try getting everything done to be back on the same level.” I gulped, laughing weakly. “I’m stressing myself for no reason.”

Jisung walked from the back of the bookshelves to shift his angle of sight, attempting to get a better look of her instead of just her back. He managed to get a better view, but the side of her face was covered by her hair as she kept looking down on the table, which only made Jisung frown. “Did you consider about the meet up?” Jisung questioned, peeking his head upwards and standing on his toes, trying everything he can he get a glimpse of her without actually approaching.

“Why do you want to meet me? Hasn’t there been anyone else that called you service? You are required to comfort them too. Why am I so important that you would even want to meet me?” Jisung left a long pause. He never expected such a thought. He didn’t know how to reply either. He bit the inside of his cheek, glancing sideways as he tried to force something out, knowing that she would have already suspected something from the long silence he gave. “If I’m being honest, the other calls were boring. Calls that have only been made once. You’re the only person who called back.” Truthfully, he had many other answers, but he all got blocked out when he narrowed his eyes down at her back.

“So me stressing over my life is much more interesting than the rest? I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jisung let out a soft chuckle, taking note to keep his voice low so he wouldn’t get caught. “Sure. Mm if you would escape to anywhere, where would you go?” She hummed in reply, most probably thinking long and hard. “I would...” She trailed, but it was followed by another longer pause. “Actually, I read about a Japanese term before. It’s ukiyo, the floating world.”

Jisung nodded his head, taking it in. “It when someone being detached from the bothers of life.” She sighed loudly through the phone, but Jisung could hear it clearly from the bookshelves. “I wish I could experience that floating world.” Her words grew into a whisper till it became inaudible at the end. Jisung saw her tilting her head down lower to the table, eventually using her forearm as a rest for her head. “Oh I have an idea.” Jisung replied quickly. “What if I become your so-called Peter Pan? Like, I can take you to Neverland for as long as you need. And that Neverland is just for you. It can be anything you want it to be.” Jisung suggested.

She laughed through the phone, a soft laugh that made Jisung’s already wavered heart skip another beat. “I’d love that.” Suddenly, she pushed her chair back, rising up from her seat. Jisung’s heart began to race, swiftly and silently turning his body to the back of the bookshelf. She was walking to the bookshelves a few rows down where he was at. He pressed himself up against the books in anxiety. “And what if I give you the free will to make Neverland? How would you want it to be? Because I know nothing about having a break.” Jisung heard her footsteps, one foot down followed by a few seconds of silence before placing down the next. It was slow and throwing Jisung off guard, thinking about what he’d do once she began to step close.

“I have two options. I’d either fill it with the things you love, or fill it with things I love and have you explore.” Jisung slid over to the nexy bookshelf ahead in fear, now keeping his voice lower than how it initially was. “I’d rather choose the latter. What do you like doing?” Jisung stared down at the floor. “Dancing, obviously. I like to hang out with my friends. Going out to the pet store just to look at hamsters.” Jisung and her giggled softly after hearing him say the last line.

“Hamsters? That’s cute.” Jisung took awhile to process the next part. He suddenly saw a pair of feet, inches away from his. He instantly shot his head up, seeing her standing in front of him. He tilted his head down a few degrees, realising that she was a lot shorter than him and needed to level the eye contact. For some reason, Jisung’s ribcage began to clench, suffocating his lungs and not letting a single grasp of air into his system as he looked at her. She wasn’t breathing either. The pin drop silence fill the small gap of air between them.

I brought my phone down from my ear, letting my hand fall to my side and my phone loosely hand by my fingers that wrapped around it. I glanced down for a moment before looking back up to him, he was extremely tall. “Wait you’re...” I tried to recall my memory while I took a close look at him, specifically his physique and body structure. It looked exactly like the one that caught my eye back at the practice room. “Were you the one dancing?” I questioned, not sure how to phrase it.

He tilted his head to the side and slowly nodded his head. “Um I’m always dancing?” He replied back with another question. But his head slowly tilted back straight, as if something had dawned on him. “You! Were you the one that came in the practice room that other day?!” He shouted, leaned back in shock as he covered his mouth that immediately gaped open at the realisation. I blinked my eyes rapidly and nodded my head. “Adidas jacket guy. It’s you.” I almost copied his posture entirely as I remembered.

The blonde hair, the thin yet lean body. It all matched. It was him. The cap didn’t give me a clear view before. But now, his face was right in front of me. And he was attractive. He had that baby face. All features of him were stunning and fit perfectly into his small face. He even had the looks to be an idol even, especially with those dance skills. “I’m Jisung. Park Jisung.” He finally introduced himself. In all honesty, I didn’t picture him to look like this while we chatted, his voice was low, and didn’t exactly suit the kind of build he had. “_____.” He hummed in response.

“This is...” Jisung broke his eye contact with me, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck while he breathed out a chuckle. “An unexpected way to meet. How’d you even find me?” I flashed a devious smile. “You weren’t hard to notice. I could hear shuffling right behind me then I heard your voice.” I shook my head. “What were you doing here though?” Jisung stammered, struggling to even form a sentence of reply. He looked like he was hiding the shakiness under his skin. “I thought I could find you by waiting here in the library.”

I squinted my eyes at his answer. So was he trying to find me all this time while I tried to do the same? “You actually waited here for hours?!” I couldn’t help but raise my voice a notch, too shocked when he downshifted his head. Why would he go through such lengths? Did he not think about the factors? Like how I would’ve not even come here in the first place? Or that I’d walk out and he’ll miss his chance? I had all those questions wrapped around my mind, but as much as I wanted to ask, all I could let out was, “So, Peter Pan.” I stated out loud, resuming the conversation we had on the phone.

Jisung smiled. It was a friendly smile. A warm one that embraced the space around them in the coldness of the dark. It also made him look a hundred times more attractive, with his eye smile that looked as if the world got brighter, and with his teeth showing. He kind of resembled a hamster, oddly enough. “Looks like I’m your Peter Pan now.” Jisung clasped his hands behind his back. “And my first order of business is getting you out of whatever hell hole you’re suffering from. And I don’t care what work you have to do. I’m not going to make you do it.” Jisung shook his head furiously, his bright orange-blonde hair swooshing as he did so, making it clear to me that it was extremely as light and fluffy as it looked to be.

“I’ll clear up my day. I have no lessons tomorrow so I’d usually study-” Jisung brought a finger up in front of my face, articulating it from left to right which a frown. “Nope. None of that. Being serious when I say you need a break. I feel like you have mental breakdowns like the one when you first called like once every week.” Jisung said, a soft hint of whining shining through his tone. “Wait do you?”

I bore my eyes into his, face feigned expressionless. “I mean, I had two mental breakdowns so far. That’s not bad, considering how many times I force myself not to.” I folded my arms, taking a step back to place my weight on one leg as I stood nonchalantly. “Yeah. But you still aren’t living your best life.” Jisung bent forward and smiled innocently, with eyes that looked into my soul and read my heart and mind.

“Pack up. You’re not studying anymore. Sleep. And I’ll meet you tomorrow at 2. Wake up at your own time. Don’t force your body into getting out of bed. Hear me?” Jisung began walking away, and I quickly followed, though I was struggling to keep up due to him taking big steps with his long legs. “Fine.” Was all I said, as we made our way to take our stuff from our separate places. We met back at the entrance, Jisung opening the door for me as I downshifted my head in thanks and went out.

“I watched you dance. It was incredible.” I suddenly let out, thinking about what else I could say about it. “It gave me a feeling that I can never pen down in words.” Jisung ruffled his hair and shook his head, adjusting his hair that looked messy. “Really? That’s nice to hear. But I know I can do better. I’m not the best.” When we stepped out of the library, I felt the cold breeze brushing my skin, too cold till I accidentally let out a shiver. “You seemed to be the best one there. I mean, the one that stood out to me the most.” Jisung raised both his brows, as if surprised such a comment came from someone. “Well I’m glad I was able to touch your heart.”

Moments of silence breezed through us like the cold air as we walked down the pathway. I didn’t know where Jisung’s dorm was, but it certainly wouldn’t be at my building. Was he walking actually wanting to walk me back? Either way, the silence wasn’t awkward. Jisung kept humming and nodding his head to the beat playing in his head, shoulders bobbing and making small movements. All I wanted to do was watch and smile. It made my stomach twist a knot, sending butterflies fluttering along while doing so. He would occasionally make eye contact and let out a cute giggle.

“Wait where even is your dorm?” I questioned. Jisung froze for a moment before quickly bringing his focus back on me to answer. “A few blocks down yours.” He simply said, bringing his index finger up to point in front. It was only now that I realised we were already at the entrance of my dorm building. “No wonder I’ve never seen you on campus before.” I muttered, nodding my head. Jisung adjusted the straps of his bag on his shoulders. “I’m not popular. Not like my friends. But at least my major mates know me.” I chuckle and blinked. “Of course they do. You’re talented.” I sighed and looked up to the sky, which was plainly a blank canvas with stars that could only be seen if you squint hard enough.

“I wish I had something to be proud of.” I whispered under my breath. Before Jisung could even say something back, I brought my eyes down from the sky and shook my head. His mouth was already opened and ready to speak, but he didn’t. “So I’ll see you tomorrow? Is there anything I should prepare myself for?” Jisung shrugged with a soft smile. “Nothing. We’ll just do the first thing that pops in my mind. I’m the type to be impromptu.” I hummed, saying goodnight to him one last time before going into the building, not looking back. Yet I felt his eyes glued to me, which only made me self conscious till I was completely out of sight.

One thing’s for sure, I already knew something that was different about us. I didn’t even meet him for long, but I could already tell Jisung was so laid back, relaxed, moving with his day like a breeze, no worries for the world whatsoever. He liked being impromptu, while I always had my days scheduled so meticulously. He seemed to be the complete opposite of me, yet he was still able to have order in his life. Curiosity spurred in me. I was having that urge to know him more, how he was able to live like that, how Jisung, was Jisung.

Funny enough, Jisung didn’t tell me about where to meet. Which was why I chose to seat the bench right outside my dorm building. I didn’t know how long I was waiting. I did follow his advice. I woke up quite late and stayed in bed watching Netflix shows. I took my time to get ready. And I actually went down a little over 2. I had my earphones plugged in, scrolling through Twitter since I had nothing else better to do on my phone. I didn’t have any games on it, or much of any form of entertainment. I never had time for those either.

Out of the blue, I heard something that resembled a buzz of some sort right beside my right ear. I instantly turned my head to it, leaning back and almost falling off the bench as I sent my bottom to the edge, shocked at seeing a drone flying right beside me. It wasn’t just an ordinary drone. It flew closer to me, and I squinted my eyes for closer inspection. There was a camera. It made me jump off the bench and taking steps back. And with each time, the drone flew closer to my face.

“Hey calm down!” I heard for a distance. My eyes adverted to the voice, seeing a small sized Jisung standing far from me. He tiptoed and waved his hand high, the other hand holding the controller of the drone. I could only laugh nervously as he ran up to me. “Good afternoon to you.” Jisung greeted cheerfully with a bright smile. I gulped and forced a casual smile, though I was still weirded out by the drone that was now circling in front of us. “You like me drone? My friend made it actually.” Jisung giggled.

I pursed my lips. “You chose to greet me with that?” I pointed my finger out with skepticism in my tone. “I’m sure you noticed the camera.” Jisung reached out for the drone, and held it in his hands. How can his hands hold something that big with so much ease? Or maybe the drone was small and his hand made it look big. “I was thinking we could record your day. If you were to actually have fun, you’ll have it on tape so you can watch back and remember the fun when you’re going through stressing times.” While Jisung was explaining, I couldn’t help but notice how brightly he was smiling. It was like the one he flashed at the library that night, but this time it was two folds of it, making the effect of butterflies in my stomach fluttering two fold as well.

“You really thought deep...” I whispered, leaning in to examine the drone while he moved it around for me to look at it from different angles. “It’s not so deep. I thought it only made sense for us to record a day like this. It’ll be fun, trust me.” I could only chuckle and stare down at my feet for a moment before looking back to meet his eyes and asking, “So, Peter Pan, where’s our first stop?” Jisung took out his phone and scrolled through it, I took a peek and realised he was on his notes. It had a list and it was labeled “TODO LIST FOR D-DAY” I giggled softly. “You’re making such a big deal out of today. I’m shocked.”

Jisung chuckled and ran a hand through his hair after placing the drone down on the floor. “Mm I like doing things like this. You know like, doing things out of the ordinary. This is certainly one of the time.” I furrowed my eyes at him while he had his on his phone. He probably felt my eyes searing into him, making him lift his eyes up and staring cluelessly. “So I’m out of the ordinary?” I questioned, tilting my head and feigned intimidation.

“What? No, no! I meant the fact that there’s someone who I need to plan a day out for. This kind of things don’t happen everyday.” Jisung leaned back and lifted up both his hands in defence, only making me laugh loudly and shaking my head. “Calm down. I was just teasing. I’m much for weird than I look.” Jisung raised both in eyebrows and jerked his head down to my phone. I blinked my eyes rapidly at his action. “I can already tell. Who has their timetable as their wallpaper?” Jisung faked a gag, which only made me frown as I glanced at my phone. “Nothing’s wrong with that!” I retorted, huffing and walking forward. I barely took a step before Jisung pulled me back.

“Peter Pan hasn’t even tell you the location, dummy.” He flicked my forehead with his finger, making me grimace. “Oh you dare to do that?!” I gaped my mouth open and scoffed in amusement, glancing sideways before retrieving my eyes back to Jisung. “I’m getting back at you!” I growled. “Till you do something that deserves the need to do it.” My voice grew softer with each word and my shoulders bobbed up while my expression turned into an embarrassed one. Jisung laughed out loud, he seemed to be enjoying himself, leaning back and holding his stomach from all the laughter he did for a full moment.

“Till I deserve it? Why are you so uptight?! Come. I’ll let you do it.” Jisung leaned forward, face meeting my level as he closed his eyes and a child-like smile played on his lips. I stared at him for a long moment. And when he didn’t feel any impact, he opened one eye in question. “Come on.” He urged, motioning his hand to his forehead. I chuckled at this, my hand being brought up like it had a mind of its own and flicked Jisung’s forehead with much force. He grimaced, but covered his pain with a sincere laugh the second after. “There aren’t any rules. Do what you want to me, okay? See, I can be your punching bag if you need me to.”

I gave Jisung a disinterested look. “Mm sure. Enough chatting just take me wherever already.” Jisung laughed at my impatience, sliding his phone into hus back pocket and getting himself ready to fly the drone. It flew up and almost went to my face. Luckily my quick reflexes allowed me to avoid it quickly, resulting in Jisung hissing and mumbling, “Sorry.” under his breath. He began to walk forward with me followed closely behind him as he played with the drone and letting it hover around as it recorded us from above.

We were walking quite a distance. I didn’t expect it to be this far. The sound the drone kept making was already imbedded into my memory. We were walking down a street I was completely unfamiliar with and the sun shining brightly above us wasn’t helping at all, only with occasional times when the clouds covered the sun for mere moments before it became blazing hot again. “Where are we even going?” I questioned, taking a look around my surroundings. Jisung finally let the drone come down from the air. He picked it up and motioned his hand with the drone to the building right in front of us. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked up to the building.

“I thought about us enjoying the simple things in life. I didn’t want to take you to any fancy or high end places because well, I have no money for one. But it’s also because if you’re going to do this again, I’d want it to be something affordable. A place you can go to anywhere, anytime.” Jisung shrugged while he explained the reason of choosing this place which I still have yet to know its purpose since I saw no sign that gave me a single clue. “That’s deep.” I simply said. Jisung pursed his lips and nodded his head. “That was unintentionally deep.”

Jisung fiddled with the drone to turn it off and passed it to me for me to hold as he opened the door and gave me way. I downshifted my head and went inside. I looked around. It seemed to be a lobby. There was a small counter at the corner and in front was a deep hallway filled with doors left and right. What was this place? I felt Jisung’s presence behind me as he went to the counter. With a smile, the woman behind gave him a key. He went forward in front of me and tossed the key in the air for it to drop to the floor. I raised a brow at his action. I assumed he tried to expertly catch the keys again but failed to do so. I wanted to face but I kept my neutral expression. Jisung picked it up quickly and turned to flash a soft smile before proceeding to walk. I again followed behind.

While I walked down the hallway, I could hear different music coming from each door. Some rooms were silent while other were blasting music so loud yet muffled due to the door blocking out the music. There weren’t any windows on the door that I could peek into to see what was inside, which only made me more skeptical as I tried figuring out what this place was. Jisung abruptly stopped in front of one door, which was at the very end of the hallway. I almost bumped into him but stopped myself by placing a hand near his shoulder where I would’ve bump into.

Jisung slid the key into the keyhole and fiddled around for a moment for the key twisted and the door opened. Once again he made way for me to head in first. A gentleman, that was another thing about Jisung I took note of. I walked into a pit of darkness till I heard Jisung flip a switch and the lights turned on. I gaped my mouth open in awe and nodded my head slowly as I took unsure steps in. “Is this like...” I tried to form my sentence but I was mesmerised by the blank space of the wooden plank floor and the wall sized mirror that stretched from one end to the other entirely. “Your own dance studio?”

Jisung smiled softly and hummed, standing beside me while we both looked at ourselves in the mirror. “Wait. You aren’t actually telling me to...” I very slowly turned my head up to look at him, realising he already had his eyes on me before I even made eye contact. I brought my index finger up and swirled it around beside me to motion to the the dance studio. “Dance, right?” Jisung didn’t reply, only forming a sly smile for a split second before walking to the side while scrolling through his phone. Music began to play through the speakers from the top corners of the room. He placed his phone down and began moving his body to the beat while making his way back to me.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” Jisung smiled brightly and giggled, proceeding to close his eyes and continue grooving to the music being played. It was upbeat and relaxing, not like the ones played at clubs. It was chill and something anyone could move to. Except, I couldn’t. With arms folded and wrapped around my chest, I stared at him with a tilted head. Probably feeling my eyes on him, he fluttered his eyes open and looked at me with an innocent look. “Try dancing!” Jisung shouted, blinking his eyelids rapidly. I only narrowed my eyes in response. Jisung groaned and suddenly brought his hands out to hold my wrist, eventually holding my hands in his.

“You said we can do what I like. And I like dancing. It relieves my stress. I’m sure it’ll have the same effect on you if you actually try.” Jisung begged. He slowly brought my hands up, moving side to side, urging me to follow my lead. I was skeptical. This was never my thing. My body was as stiff as stone when I tried following Jisung. I didn’t know how he was simply so natural and fluid. He wasn’t trying hard at all, unlike me. “Hey.” Jisung suddenly whispered, leaning forward so his face was just mere inches away from mine. My breathing hitched in my throat. “You’re trying too hard. Loosen up. Feel the music.” Jisung’s advise was soothing, whispers that went in my ears and could stay in my mind for ages as he looked into my eyes and searched for the specks of uncertainty that he so desperately want to get rid of.

I closed my eyes and relaxed my shoulders. With Jisung’s large hands still with mine, Jisung slowly and naturally pulled me closer to him. I composed myself and tried to keep my cool as much as possible, putting my mind at peace and solely focusing on the music. Jisung hummed and tried to move me again. This time, I was slowly able to let my body loose, getting the beat of the song into my head and slowly bobbing my head to it. I couldn’t help but smile as I began to move however I want, being free. “You’re doing it!” Jisung shouted happily, letting go of my hands and allowing our bodies to dance.

I wasn’t looking at the mirror this whole time. But when I did, I grimaced in disgust, leaning back and sticking out my tongue. “Jeez I look so ugly dancing.” I sighed with a frown. Jisung laughed loudly and nodded. “Indeed. But that’s the whole point. No one’s here to judge you. I can be weird with you, if that’s what you want.” Jisung clasped his hands behind him and leaned forward again, flashing his cheeky smile. I scoffed. “Please, how can a great dancer like you dance weirdly? I mean look at you. Everything you do is flawless.” I huffed out, folding my arms.

Another song began to play. This time it was a slow one. Nothing sad or emotional, it felt like a song that was meant to bring yourself back down to earth. “I wasn’t even good last time. It took a lot of effort to get to where I am today.” Jisunv explained carefully, weary so that he wouldn’t sound like he was beinf boastful. Jisung suddenly looked up to the ceiling thoughtfully and after a moment he opened his mouth like a light bulb of thought above his head switched itself on.

Jisung immediately ran to the door, flicking the switch and turning the lights off. It was dark, but some light was still able to shine through from the cracks of the door, making me see Jisung’s figure, but not the details of his face only if I looked close enough. He went back to me and said, “There. With the lights closed, you can do whatever and I won’t see it clearly.” Jisung shrugged triumphantly. I chuckled and nodded my head in agreement.

After that, multiple songs continued to play. His playlist was probably on shuffle mode but they were all songs I could dance to. I could see Jisung and I moving in the mirror. Again, not obvious, but still seen. Out of nowhere, Jisung pulled me in by grabbed my wrist lightly. He pulled me hard till my chest bumped into his. “Sorry.” He whispered, chuckling awkwardly. Jisung was clumsy, yet cute i. his own way. Another feature of his I began to take note of. It took me awhile to realise how close we were. He could probably feel my breath on his skin at this moment.

I looked up from his chest, meeting his eyes. Suddenly, my surroundings blanked. The music drowned out into nothing and the darkness of the room got even darker. And at the same time, Jisung’s face began to be the only thing that was clear to me. I did notice how attractive he was. But this situation was only making it ten times harder for me to handle to emotions that suddenly spurred inside me. My heart was beating fast and my cheat began to clench tightly, giving me no air to breath in as I stood there breathless for a long moment. Jisung didn’t move either, his eyes wandering my face as if looking at every inch.

It was at this moment that got me to think that indeed, I was stress-free. I wasn’t thinking about the pile of books I had to read and analyse. I wasn’t thinking about what was due next week and what my schedule was. All I had my focus on was Jisung and I. The freedom and lightness I was feeling. It was something I never felt for so long. It’s as if I barely knew such a feeling existed. And all it took was doing something that I wasn’t even good at. Doing it with Jisung. It would be too early to say this, but he could very well be the first person that made me feel this way in my whole college life.

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Jisung beamed at me as we made our way back to the counter to return the keys. I breathed out a light chuckle and sighed in satisfaction. “Mhm. It was actually... very fun.” I puckered my lips. Jisung went to the counter and leaned forward after placing the key down for the woman to take. He whispered something to her and she nodded her head. She went to the back and Jisung turned around to meet my eyes. “Got a little present for you.” The woman came back with the same key, or perhaps a replica of it. Jisung downshifted his head in thanks and handed me the key. I took it wearily.

I glanced down at it and trailed my eyes back to Jisung. “Why would you give me the key?” I questioned. Jisung took a step in and had his eyes on the key in my hand. He brought his hand up and closed the key in my palm. “I’m giving you access to my most private space ever. That’s because I want you to feel the same way I do whenever I’m in there. Carefree. Effortless. You can go in whenever you want, whenever you need. I don’t have to be there with you all the time. You don’t even have to dance. Just let the atmosphere of the studio calm you. Basically, do whatever. I just want you to be free.”

With each word his voice got heavier with meaning and sincerity imbued, and my heart grew lighter with each breath.

Days go by, and though I didn’t meet Jisung again, he’d occasionally call me late at night to check up on me. And every time I said I was doing work, he’d let out an exaggerated groan and force me to sleep. He sounded like those mothers that keep nagging at you. And with his talkative nature, Jisung and I could go rambling for hours on the phone till one of us sleeps. It’ll mostly be me since I could already drif off to dream land the moment my body hits the bed.

Today, I was feeling trapped in my dorm room. Something in me was feeling the urge for an escape as the walls caved in with every hour passing by. My brain was beginning to slow its gears and I wasn’t able to boost my motivation back up. I glanced to my phone where it showed the time blaring onto my face. “It’s only a ten minute walk.” With a shrug, I dumped everything I wanted to get done by tonight and headed out the door, not giving a single care to look neat and going out in my sweater and sweatpants.

I went into the building, it was dark with only the moonlight from outshine shining in through the glass entrance. I made my way to the dance studio, key in my hand that I already shoved into the pockets of my sweater on my way here due to the cold of the night. I unlocked the door and entered. I didn’t bother turning on the lights. Instead I switched on the small lamplight that Jisung told me he placed there in case I needed it. I silently thank Jisung in my mind as I began to unpack my things.

I took one look around the studio. It was spacious, the plank floors leaving the space wide open just for me. Though I came here to do work, my mind was slowly trailing off to Jisung. His figure slowly appeared, picturing him in my mind as I let his shadows dance in the dark. It was his dance that caught my eye and it was his personality that was making me crave to know him more. I was mesmerised, enchanted by every move he made. Every word he spoke, every clumsy gesture. It was all those things clumped into one that was sucking me in.

I startled out of my thoughts with a quick shake of my head and got to work. Quite a long time had passed by. Jisung was right. The atmosphere of the studio, silent, peaceful, nothing to disturb my serenity. For some reason, I didn’t think twice when I grabbed my phone to call Jisung at this timing. Before I could even press on his contact number, my eyes flickered to the time. 2:30AM. For one moment I thought he’d be asleep. But with remembering about his call service, I knew he’d still be up. My hopes filled me up with I called and placed the phone on speaker phone, placing my phone back down beside me while I continued to write.

Jisung picked up in a matter of seconds. “Hey! How are you?” I smiled softly. No matter the time and place, he never failed to sound cheerful and bursting with energy. It felt as if he was being like that just for me. “Nothing. Just work.” Should not have said that. “What?! It’s two in the damn morning? How are you even- no more studying. Makes me puke every time I hear that.” Jisung feigned a gag and I laughed loudly in response to his disgusted reaction. “I’m almost done, alright? I’m actually at the music room. It’s quite nice being here.” Jisung hummed and I leaned back, placing my hands behind me. “Oh you’re there? Want me to join you?” Jisung’s voice suddenly grew excited. The sudden burst of energy shocked me. How was he able to be so energetic in the dead morning?

“You don’t have to! I was just about to go anyways.” I squinted my eyes and formed a quizzical look on my face. Why did I even say that? I wasn’t even about to leave. “I don’t have classes tomorrow so I can stay up. I know you don’t have any either.” I raised an eyebrow, my eyes going to the screen as I saw Jisung’s name still flashing at me. “What are you even suggesting?” I questioned with a confused tone. Jisung smacked his lips. “Mm to have a night out with you? We didn’t go out for so long.” Jisung cried out. I gaped my mouth open ever so slightly and tilted my head a few degrees at his suggestion.

I leaned forward to my phone, my voice lowering itself to a whisper. “You... actually want that?” I blinked my eyes rapidly, waiting for his answer. Jisung breathed in once and said, “I just said that, didn’t I?” I frowned. “But I want you to rest and-”

“Already out the door!” Jisung ended the call. I sighed. But a smile cracked on my lips at the thought of him coming here.

“What is all this mess?” Jisung complained in disgust. Face scrunched up and nose crinkled at the sight of my books and papers while he helped me to slide it back into my tote bag. He grabbed a stack and placed it on his thigh. Flipping through. I could only see cluelessness in his eyes. “Jeez. This is so not to my liking. Or understanding.” Jisung shrugged and shoved it into the bag, making it the last stack.

Jisung stood up and carried it on his shoulder, instantly crying out as he leaned over to the side where he hung the bag, the weight of it pulling him down. “How do you carry these all day?!” Jisung shouted with utmost shock. I simply shrugged and made my way for the door. “You’d be surprised at how much my shoulder hurts every week.” I said nonchalantly due to the fact it was truly something I’ve gotten used to. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Jisung bringing himself back up and trying to get used to the weight while walking to me. I opened the door and with a kind smile, moved my body aside to give way for him to exit, which he gladly thanked for with a whisper.

“Anyways, there’s a twenty four hour ice cream shop that just opened nearby. Are you in for a treat?” Jisung questioned, looking down at me. I turned my gaze from the floor and to him, glancing sideways for a quick thought before nodding. “Sure.” I simply replied. I could only follow Jisung, once again not knowing where he wanted to take me. I was familiar with the neighbourhood around campus of course. But I’ve been staying at the campus for so long that I never got the chance to find out what was new about it. Such as a new ice cream shop I never knew existed till now.

The walk there was comfortable silence. I took this time to look at Jisung’s outfit. He was wearing his signature black adidas jacket, track pants and a black cap. It felt like it was something unique only to him. A person I could identify instantly with what he wears. I like Jisung in it. It was a lazy look but he somehow managed to pull it off, naturally good looking. My focus trailed down to what I was wearing, and I couldn’t help but think about just how bad I looked at this time of the night.

Jisung once again abruptly stopped. I was able to dodge him this time and stand beside him. He looked inside the shop while I had my eyes on the sign that said they were open. “They actually do open twenty four seven.” I muttered, instantly realising that Jisung had already entered the shop when I heard the sound of the bells above the door ringing, the door swinging open. I quickly caught up to the door, making it just in time before it closed fully and entered.

I stood beside Jisung, the two of us scanning through the menu above the counter. “Is this your first time here?” I asked. Jisung bobbed his shoulders. “It is. You?” I shook my head. “I didn’t have time to be going out and trying out food that the neighbourhood has to offer. I stick to the food on campus most of the time.” Jisung scoffed softly and turned to me. “Which is practically convenience store food. How boring of you.” My jaw dropped and I breathed out an unbelievable chuckle, punching his shoulder gently. “And how rude of you to say that.” I feigned exasperation and looked up to the menu again after the two of us laughed softly.

I was the first to walk up to the counter, Jisung quickly following behind as I felt his presence being awfully close to my back. “Can I get three scoops of chocolate chip cookie?” The woman at the cashier nodded and turned her attention from me to Jisung. “You?” She questioned. I turned my head to him as well. Jisung squinted his eyes while he looked up to the menu again. He stuttered for a moment before responding. “I’ll just get two scoops of strawberry swirl.” The woman cracked a small smile, almost invisible as she keyed in our order. She told the price and looked at the two of us, waiting for the cash. When Jisung didn’t respond, I quickly took out my wallet. I glanced at hi for a brief moment, noticing that he was looking at me and didn’t hear the cashier. But before I could even slide out my dollar note, Jisung slammed my hand down lightly and took out his money in one swift motion.

“Thanks.” I softly whispered as the two of us walked to the side t wait for our ice cream. I folded my arms and placed my weight on one leg. Jisung sighed loudly, assumingly to break the silence between us. “Three scoops? That’s a lot.” Jisung mentioned. I frowned and waved a lazy hand at him. “Calm down I’ll pay for the three scoops. I’m just craving for it.” I breathed out, now feeling slightly bad that I spent a lot of Jisung’s money since the price was quite expensive. Jisung looked down on me, quirking up a questioning brow. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying it’s a lot. You don’t need to pay me.” Jisung quickly retorted with assurance imbued into his tone.

My mouth formed an ‘O’ at the realisation and slowly nodded my head. “We can’t be eating here, right? So where are we going to go?” Jisung ruffled his hair, adjusting the strands that laid naturally and nicely down his forehead. I was still able to see his eyes despite having it covered by the layer of hair. “Our spot.” I blinked my eyes rapidly. “Our spot?” I echoed back, completely clueless. 

Jisung flashed me a disappointed expression along with a sigh. “The studio. That, or we can just eat at the park nearby. Oh and don’t expect me to protect you if we get kidnapped. I won’t be strong enough to protect you.” I laughed at the joke, Jisung chuckling along with me. “You dance with such energy and you’re telling me you can’t beat a kidnapper?” I scoffed loudly in amusement. “You’re quite something.” I added on. Jisung looked down, somewhat in a shy manner and smiled before lifting his head back up. “I really am.” 

-Just how much was I missing out on

We walked out, ice cream in hand. Jisung seemed to be texting someone with his free hand while I simply looked down on my ice cream and be the first to dig in. The bite felt like a trip down memory lane. How was it that I didn’t enjoy simple things like ice cream during college? Don’t get me wrong I do still eat ice cream, but I never experienced one that tasted authentic, way better than the ones sold in convenience stores. “You seem to be enjoying it.” Jisung suddenly let out, making me head shot up to him and then to my ice cream, which I already noticed that I took more than just one bite already. 

Jisung slid his phone into his track pants and got to eating. His jaw dropped and his mouth hung open so wide that it could reach the floor. With the ice cream nestled on the surface of his tongue, he gasped loudly and looked to me instantly. “This is so good!” Jisung squealed with much happiness and excitement, taking another bite instantly and moaning in satisfaction. The two fo us ate in silence as we walked, allowing ourselves to sink into the ice cream’s captivating flavours like a bath. 

We entered the park. It was dimly lit, with only the lamps that lined the pathways and lighting the place with an orange hue. Jisung took quick steps forward to sit on the nearest bench. I sat down beside him, a small smile forming on my lips. All that we could see were the lights and trees that had its leaves and branches swaying in the gentle breeze. Jisung had his full attention on his ice cream, ow seeming to be taking small bites to preserve the ice cream and take a longer time to finish it. 

“One question. How long have you not come to this park? Or have you never?” Jisung’s question got my mind blank. I thought about it for quite some time, till Jisung had to hum to see if he even got my attention. “The only time I’ve been here was two years ago. For helping out at an event as a job.” Jisung moved his lips to one side. “Question two. Was majoring in law what you wanted to do?” I already knew this conversation was about to get deep. And at that moment, if I’m being really honest, I’m glad Jisung’s the one I’m having this conversation with.

“Yeah. At first I thought lawyers looked cool in those Korean dramas. My only goal at that time was to do any major that I seemed to be interested in and one that could get me rich. Those were my only two requirements that satisfied me. I was always hardworking but I never knew my work could get this overloaded. I wasn’t ready for it.” I took in a deep breath to compose myself, realising how real I was getting about myself. “I only started having breakdowns at the end of last year. Never bothered to take a break due to constant anxiety on how much I could miss out on. All because I want that simple goal of doing well in college for a job that’ll give me good pay. I didn’t even think about what I’d do with the money. I never bothered to expand my goal beyond that. And I think that makes me very low, and shallow minded.” 

I slowly tited my head up, wanting the cool air to cool my face. The sky was nothing but plain ink black darkness with only the small moon shining it’s moonlight on us. I closed my eyes, not really caring if Jisung responded to anything I just said. Letting it out for him to hear was all I wanted, all that I need. I kept my breathing steady and collected, the simple calmness of the quiet surrounding putting my mind at ease. “But have you ever thought that you don’t need to keep up with whatever’s around you?” Jisung whispered. I fluttered my eyelids open and brought my eyes down to meet his. We locked eyes, and Jisung reached out in front of me to grab my now empty cup, making my breath hitched in my throat. He always made me stop breathing whenever he got close. What was he, death?

“What do you mean?” Jisung puckered his lips, seeming to be deep in thought before replying. “I get that you want to do well. But you don’t always have to go at the speed this world’s at. It’s not always in the hustle.” Jisung whispered carefully. His eyes never met mine. And with each word and every one that was going to come after, could drive it’s words deep into my heart and soul, like he was seeing right through me. “Look around you. This place, the studio. You would’ve never discovered them if you were so focused. Slow down to see the prettier things in life. Isn’t that what they always say?” HIs words were definitely meant to bring an impact. And it did. My heart sank, not in a bad way. But simply because the realisation and reality was weighting my heart down. 

“Technically, you introduced me to the studio and park.” Jisung brought his hand out, as if putting his words on it and placing it in front of me. “Exactly. You wouldn’t even get to know me if you never took time to look at your surroundings and finding my note.” I licked my bottom lip that was extremely dry. My eyes absentmindedly went down to his lips, that still looked unbelievably smooth despite the dryness of the air. “I told you, didn’t I? I can be here for you. Whatever you need. So don’t always think college is everything. I mean, look at me.” I chuckled. 

But Jisung was right. I did took time to look at him as a person. He was doing something that wasn’t just interest, but what he loved and had passion for. He’s able to do well and not have to stress over things too much and too often. Jisung was able to carry himself how he wants to and be satisfied with life when I would be satisfied with mine long years down the road. He was the physical representation of ukiyo. The floating world that didn’t bother about the worries of life, and living it his own way, no matter what could appen to him. He was a ukiyo standalone. 

“Slow down to see the prettier things the life.”

Jisung might just be that prettier thing.

Jisung and I got close, real quick. It wasn’t a surprise. I already knew I’d want to meet him more often, wanting him to be my escape from the whirlpool of life. He was always a breath of fresh air, a sight for sore eyes. He never failed to make the time I spent with him meaningful to the last second. I quickly grew to realise that I needed to meet him on a regular basis. I needed to take my mind off work, and he was the only one who could do it for me.

I was just finishing lecture, carrying the heavy pounds of books in my hand with much struggle. I was trying to juggle my book on my forearm while the other tried to find for my phone in my pocket to text Jisung, saying I wanted him to come over to accompany me. With a quiet grunt I tried to type with one hand, which to me was an extreme struggle. Just when I decided to stop walking to get myself gathered together, I looked up from my phone, suddenly seeing a group of guys walking just past me.

Murmurs and whispers from different angles could be heard from far away, I raised my brow, watching their backs. One that caught my eye was the adidas jacket. I knew instantly from his figure and bright orange natural looking hair that it was Jisung. I instantly ran up to him, shoving my phone into my bag to just I could have a free hand to tap on his shoulder. “Jisung!” I screamed happily, after giving him a tap I placed a firm grip on his shoulder to stop him. The other guys surrounding him turned around, noticing how Jisung abruptly stopped.

“Who’s she?” One of them asked, his voice sounding arrogant and cocky from the get-go. Jisung gulped and looked left and right, glancing over his shoulder. He suddenly seemed anxious. Jisung blinked his eyes rapidly, sucking in his lips while he rubbed a nervous hand at the back of his neck. “I-I don’t know.” Jisung quickly replied. He stared at me for a moment, eyes cold and would probably feel like ice if I were to maintain it any longer. Jisung shoved away the hand I had on his shoulder roughly, only making me scoff loudly. “What the heck? Jisung you good?” I was about to reach my hand to punch him lightly on the shoulder, thinking that the way he’s acting was just a joke, but with him having quick reflexes, he got a firm grip on my wrist in a matter of seconds.

“Look. I don’t know you. Why are you treating me like you’re my friend?” Jisung’s words were meant to slice. And it worked. I was in disbelief, the large wave crashing over me and wiping me out and the words rolled hard on his tongue. Jisung slammed my wrist down, my whole arm swinging backward slightly from the strong impact before it fell down my side. I looked to my hand and trailed my gaze back to Jisung. I stiffened, trying not to shiver under his gaze. What was going on with him? Another friend of his placed a hand on his shoulder and jerked his head forward. Jisung pushed me off with his cold gaze one more time and turned around sharply to walk away. I gaped, eyes widened as the other looked to each with unsure faces and disappeared along with Jisung.

I stumbled a few steps back from Jisung’s impact. The impact in his words, actions. Why was he like that? He said he didn’t know me. I took a moment to head over to a nearby bench to place my books down and have a break, but it was mostly to think over about why Jisung suddenly acted different. He never seemed like that before. He looked... cold and unapproachable. That look in his eyes when he made eye contact with me, it felt as if he never knew me at all. What was with that sudden shield?

Later that day, I tried to text Jisung. Give him a call, sending multiple texts. He wasn’t responding to any of it. He used to always be free 24/7. Why was he suddenly not online, especially after what had just happened. I wanted to know why. This was the first time he ever acted like that towards me. And it was too odd. We would never meet too often. But without him texting me at least once a day, you could say I was falling apart again when he began to not get into contact with me for a whole week after the incident.

I tried to find him again. Seeing him on campus whenever, I tried to approach him. This time I walked up to him quickly and had a firm grip on his wrist. “Jisung? What’s wrong with you the other day? You acted as if you didn’t even know me.” I said with a nervous chuckle, wanting to seem like it didn’t bother but failed tremendously. Jisung looked at me blankly, expressionless. Like nothing went through his mind with that I said. Or even looking at me. Jisung bit his lower lip, glancing sideways as if he didn’t want to give a single care about my presence.

He slid my grip off his wrist. “I shouldn’t be talking to you.” Jisung said in a monotonous manner. He glanced to his left and right quickly, eyes meeting mine for a brief moment. And in that small second of eye contact, I felt something. His eyes looked sad, like he was feeling sorry. But that look disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and Jisung was out of sight once again.

I was in bed, eyes up to the plain white ceiling that gave me the free will to think about anything. Anything and everything, but it all lead to Jisung. I simply couldn’t shake it off. The way Jisung looked at me. I felt the impact of his push so vividly. I kept replaying the scene in my mind. It was just so not Jisung. It was so off from what he’s like. It seemed like it wasn’t Jisung at all. I turned to my side, phone right beside my face. I picked it up, instantly going to my contacts and clicking on Jisung’s name.

“What’s going on with you...” I said in a soft whisper, my mind trailing off yet again as I stared at Jisung’s name on my screen, so bright and so big. Yet it suddenly felt distant. Jisung, felt distant. A long while had past, and I still contemplated on whether to give him a call. I gave up doing so a few days back. Why did I still have hope? He didn’t seem to want anything to do with me. And I knew it wasn’t because he’s busy. He didn’t want to contact me. He’s ignoring me.

I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, slow and steady to calm my mind. I was beginning to jump to conclusions. And I really would never want to have that perception of Jisung. Never once thought of him that way, and never will. I would never. I groaned out loud, turning off my phone and placing it back down beside me harshly with the screen faced down. I curled myself up into a ball. It had only been a week. And I was already missing him. His voice, his clumsiness, his cuteness. The sudden change of his attitude, to the whole ignoring and growing distant thing. It was too much. Again I was falling, cracking at places where it got pieced together when I was with Jisung.

Unable to sit still, I got up and walked to my study table, slamming my body down and beginning to do work. I furiously began writing, doing whatever I can to suppress myself. I was growing mad, and if I had to let out my anger, I’d be doing it in the productive way. However, I was only able to keep that adrenaline up for a few minutes till I got to frustrated that I threw my pen on the wall in front of my and balled fists into my hair, screaming till my voice disappeared. I shut up eyes close, allowing the tears that had been welling up this whole time to finally fall, sending myself into a breakdown.

I cried and shouted with all my heart. I couldn’t beat it. I couldn’t do anything without Jisung. I didn’t know what to feel. Anger, rational, disappointment. Perhaps it was all those balled into one emotion I didn’t know the name of. I shook my head vigorously, running a hand through my hair and slamming both hands down on the table, wanting to swallow down my flood of emotions. I can’t be going through this. I had work to do. Jisung’s a waste of my time, and my energy. My feelings for him will not stop me from moving forward. I knew I shouldn’t have met him. He led me to this, to suffering even more on top of my large pile of other stresses I had to handle. He was once my ukiyo, but how he’s far from being one.

“I can’t fucking keep doing this!” Jisung screamed, pacing back and forth in his dorm. Luckily Renjun wasn’t here to hear his rant. He’d been stressed out about it for weeks. It’s almost been a few months. He couldn’t keep this up. He was this close to showing his anger if his friends were to ever hung out with him again. Jisung had one arm wrapped around his torso while the other rested and had his thumb grazing over his bottom lip. He was missing her. He wanted to see her. But he couldn’t. Not when his friends are around 24/7.

At the party later that night, Jisung had no mood for any of it. Not the drinking, not the games. He was at this stupid party just because his friends dragged him. Although he never said no to the offer. Jisung simply went with it to satisfy his friends. He was sick of the people around him reeking of alcohol, people bumping into him every which way, the loud music that could possibly bloa his eardrums. Just how many of these parties had he been to already? And he still couldn’t get used to this.

Jisung was standing by the drinks area, watching his friends on the couch and getting wasted. They’re finding their own way home somehow. Jisung knew they were capable, so there wasn’t any reason why he had to take care of them. He seemed to be so fixated on one spot that he didn’t even realise Jeno was standing beside him after he let out a, “You seem to be having fun.” Jisung came zinging back to reality. “Yeah.”

“I know you aren’t.” Jeno gulped down the red cup and placed it down on the table behind them. He leaned back casually, eyeing Jisung which intimidated Jisung just a little bit. “What’s been going on with you?” Jeno leaned his head forward and closer to Jisung, making sure his words could be heard over the loud music. “Nothing.” Jeno scoffed. “It can’t be nothing.”

Jisung turned his head to face Jeno, flashing him a look that read, “I really don’t care.” Jeno smacked his lips and folded his arms. “I’m the closest one to you. Even though they all treat you like you’re our own baby, I’m the one that knows you best. So spill. There’s no hiding from me.” Jisung groaned out loudly and grabbed Jeno’s wrist, pulling him to a room closed and isolated from this mess Jisung simply hated.

Jisung went in and slammed himself onto the bed, sitting on the edge while Jeno raised both his eyebrows in shock at the little man’a temper, closing the door behind him slowly as the music finally got drowned out. “So?” Jeno began, leaning against the door and placing one leg over the other. Jisung threaded his fingers through his hair, keeping his hand at the back of his head as he tilted upwards to find a way to say his feelings, as if the words were out there for him on the ceiling.

“I have this girl I like. We’ve been hanging out for a long while. But we stopped because one day I decided to be a prick and push her off when she saw me with the rest of us.” Jeno opened his mouth and clapped his hand once. “It’s that girl isn’t it?!” Jeno pointed at Jisung with surprise. Jisung wasn’t exactly sure if Jeno and Jisung were thinking of the same girl, but either way Jisung simply nodded.

“I don’t know why I did it in the first place. I guess I was embarrassed of you guys knowing her and you’ll keep bugging me about it all the time if you knew.” Jisung groaned out, the frustration expertly imbued into his tone though it took no effort to do so. Jeno narrowed his eyes on Jisung, a look that made him know that a long lecture was about to come for him. And he couldn’t escape.

As Jeno pushed his back off the door and walked forward, he said, “So what? You didn’t want us knowing you have a girl you like because you think we’ll invade your privacy? If you want to know, most of us guessed it already. You kept going out at such late hours almost all the time. Did you think Renjun wouldn’t have noticed?” Jeno tilted his head, making sure it was extremely obvious. “That’s why we were shocked when you did that to her.” Jeno added on. Jeno squinted his eyes and blinked them rapidly. “Then why don’t you just explain it to her?”

Jisung frowned, head slowly tilting down to cover his face. “Because I felt bad for doing it and thought she’d be mad at me and wouldn’t want to talk to me again.” Jisung sighed loudly for three days. “I didn’t-” Jisung inhaled deeply. “I didn’t want to face her because I didn’t want to feel the pain of having her get mad at me.” Jeno chuckled, the kind that was in disbelief. “Jisung! You don’t even know if she felt that way!” Jeno slammed a palm to his forehead. “Yes she’d be mad but you should be making the first move to apologise to her! She’s probably crying in bed wondering why you suddenly cut off all ties with her, you dummy!”

While Jeno was giving him an earful, Jisung fiddled with this thumbs, scarping at the hang nails and growing deep in thought. Jeno was right. Why didn’t he do anything to solve it? He simply backed off because he was too afraid to face her after what happened. He was caring for his own feelings more than hers. And now she’s definitely in a way worsr position than he was. “Fuck I’m dumb.” Jeno hummed in agreement, only making Jisung shoot a glare at him while letting out a ‘tsk’.

“Might be too late but talk to her. Right now she needs an explanation. No matter how long ago it was.” Jeno had his voice firm and advisory.

Jisung made his way to her dorm. He had a sinking, anxious feeling in his chest while he walked down the hallway and inched closer to her door.

I was at my table, still studying the life out of me. I knew I’d be walking out of this dorm brain drained and walking like a living corpse when I go for my lecture tomorrow. Just when I wanted to rest my head down, there was a knock on the door. I thought I misheard, but after a long moment the knocking came again. I quickly walked up to the door, swinging it open. Everything paused. My motion, my eyes. It was glued to the person in front of me, which was Jisung.

“Can I come-” “I have work to do.”

I tried to close the door, but Jisung stopped it with his foot. “Please. I owe you an explanation.” Jisung said, voice filled with softness and sincerity. I couldn’t bear to resist. I knew I never could if he came. I sucked in my lips, sighed quietly and opening the door. I walked in, sitting at my study table and turning my chair around. I watched Jisung close the door behind hIm, making his way to the bed, each step seemed to be weary and careful, watching out for himself with every move to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong.

Jisung and I locked eyes for a long time, silence circulating the air. I cocked my brow up in curiosity as to why he wasn’t saying anything. Jisung quickly noticed my change of expression and shook his head as if bringing himself back from a moment of deep thinking. “I’m sorry. For that day. I know I was rude. First I did that, then I completely ignored you.” Jisung bit his lower lip, now avoiding eye contact like he was too embarrassed to meet my eyes. “I did it because I was scared of what my friends thought of me having someone.” My quizzical expression became more prominent.

I sat there, not sure of what to think. Like I said, I never wanted to think badly of Jisung. But after hearing that, it seemed that my underlined feeling of anger became to surface itself after being forced to suppress itself for far too long. “So you did that to me then you ignored me. On top of that completely removing me out of your life like I was invisible. Then you didn’t bother to try and fix this sooner. All this because of what you’re friends would think of me? Of us?” I pointed to myself, my voice growing scarily louder with each sentence.

I smacked my lips and nodded. I didn’t need his verbal reply to know the answers to that. And it disappointed me. “I never thought I’d say this. But that was shallow. Very shallow of you.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Did you know how much I was going through when I couldn’t contact you? All those times I texted and called, you didn’t reply to any of them. And why? For your pride? While I was here balling my eyes out every night unable to do my work.”

I allowed a moment of silence to pass, though I could’ve continued without having to catch my breath. “You used to be my escape. Someone I came to when I needed to destress, be free. But now... you’re just the person that’s stopping me from my goal. Getting work done, it could be stressing yes. But if I’m unable to do work just because of my feeling for someone as low as you...” I shut my eyes closed, wanting to hold back my tears. My opened my eyes and forced them to blare at Jisung with firmness. “I don’t see why you should be in my life anymore.”

I stood up, taking slowly strides to the door. I held the doorknob, turning it and opening the door. I brought my free hand out, motioning to Jisung. “Don’t come back. I can’t bear to see you anymore without having these confusing feelings. It’s something I shouldn’t be spending my time worrying about.” I said sternly. I watched Jisung. He seemed far from stable. He seemed to be cracking at the seams, he was at the edge of tears. He didn’t bother to hide them, the tears seeming to be clouding his vision as it welled up in his eyes. He had his eyes glued to the floor the whole time. A long moment went by till he finally stood up and walked to the door.

Before Jisung left, he stood right in front of me. His eyes met mine, shivering with guilt and instant despair. It broke my heart to see him like this. But in situations like these, I had to choose. Either lose Jisung, or lose myself. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, almost inaudible. He blinked his eyes once and the tears streamed down his cheeks. I reached my hand out, slowly and shakil to place them on his shoulder. He looked down on it, simply letting it slide off when he went. He walked away, and I bit my bottom lip. That was the last moment I saw him.

Closing the door, I let my back lean against the door and slide down till I reached the floor. I thought I wouldn’t feel a single sense of sadness or regret. But at that moment, when I couldn’t even handle seeing Jisung’s back disappear as he walked down the hallway, the shell I had carefully built around my heart shattered, and no number of words of reassurance repeated to myself will piece it back together. I shook my head. If I kept my expectations low, I would stop feeling the throbbing. If I cut off all my emotions, I wouldn’t be so weak. And that was what I was determined to do.

Jisung felt every single word struck deep and low, like a bell toll that shook inside him. As the her hand fell off his shoulder, so,too, did the warmth. He began to shiver. Only cold and pain remained, sharp enough to numb everything else. All his adrenaline, gone, and with it, his sense of feeling. All his life, gone. The ground caved in, and he hit bottom.

Jisung walked away with a heavy heart. Everything he did for her. From the moment she unintentionally made that call to the last time they met, Jisung had it flashed in his mind like a movie tape. She was al the more right to be like this to him. He knew all too wel of the consequences. He had to bear this pain. It was the only right thing to do. He didn’t know how he’ll get over it. But even if he eventually does. he’ll never forget her. Not for a single second. Even if she would be shoved to the back of his mind, he’d dug up for it again. She meant so much to him. And how Jisung will be seeing her no longer.

“Jaehyun stop I swear!” I giggled loudly as Jaehyun continued to tickle my sides. He carried me away from the cashier with his arms around my waist. I laughed out loudly and beg him constantly to put me down. He finally did when I gave him a hard smack in the arm and made him wince.

“You’re laugh is cute.” Jaehyun said with a light chuckle. I rolled my eyes and folded my arms. “Yeah well you don’t have to keep tickling me for you to hear it.” I feigned exasperation, leaning forward against the counter to place my chin on the palm of my hand. “Really? Good to know but I’d still prefer to tickle you.” I shot Jaehyun a death glare and all he did was threw back a playful wink to which I responded with a ‘tsk’.

Jaehyun got close to ruffle my hair. And when he had his hand on my head, the bell above the door opened, signalling that someone entered. I swatted off Jaehyun’s hand, him laughing lowly at my defensive act as I pat down my apron. “Welcome to-” My voice stopped in its tracks. I was frozen. The moment I looked up, I instantly knew the person in front of me.

“Park Jisung.” I whispered, voice growing soft. I gulped, wanting to swallow away any feeling that might surface before I even continued. Our eyes locked. And Jisung... he was suddenly bringing in the sense of comfort through his gaze. I didn’t know how he did it. We’ve never met for almost two years. Yet here he was, suddenly showing up in front of my face, with not a single thing of him changed and giving me the exact same feeling I had back then.

“I’d like to talk. Over some black coffee?” Jisung offered, slowly pointing up to the menu, his eyes never leaving mine. I blinked my eyes rapidly and took this time to glance at Jaehyun, who seemed to he confused yet didn’t want to question or interrupt whatever was happening in front of me. “Why? You have no reason to.” I said simply with a nonchalant shrug. That was clearly a fake move.

“Just a chat. We used to be friends, didn’t we?” Jisung questioned back, pushing his shoulders back and allowing his chest to puff up ever so slightly with confidence. I didn’t know where he was going at, why he was here in the first place. Either way, I didn’t give him a reply, simply turning around to start making the coffee with Jaehyun giving me space.

I went to the table where Jisung was seated, placing the two cups of black coffee on the table. I took a seat at the opposite side. Tight silence circulated us. It made me want to choke due to how awkward it was. I was running my finger around the rim of the cup slowly. “Have you been well?” Jisung asked. “I’m doing great. Got into university and I’m working here part time.” I breathed out. “You?” I asked back. I was genuinely curious.

As much as I was able to get over Jisung, his unknown well being got me to he on edge whenever I thought of him. That could be said with my buried feelings for him as well. “Got admitted into an art school. I’m apparently capable enough to start my own dance crew.” Jisung breathed out a light chuckle and took a sip of coffee. “Look. What I’m here for is...”

Jisung closed his eyes for a moment before opening them back and have it darted to meet mine. “What I’m here for is that I want to start over.” I gave him an expressionless look, mainly because I didn’t know what emotion to show. It was all spiralled into something unrecognisable. A mix of lots of emotions. I had no reply for Jisung, which only gave him a signal to keep talking.

“Every day I’ve carried the burden of missing you. And each day it grew heavier and heavier. I knew it was the weight of my actions, their consequences. And I miss you too much. You meant so much to me, and you still do. I was trying to not break our friendship but I only made it worse. Trust me I regretted it everyday after that.” Jisung’s eyes softened and I grew weak under his gaze. It was gentle and light, it made me fall in a matter of seconds if I didn’t care to put in energy to have a guard up.

“And on top of that, it wasn’t just our friendship I missed. I missed it all. You. I didn’t get to say this, but I’ve liked you. And I always have. It was a feeling beyond the mutual one. It was something more and I came here afraid of how you’d think. I came anyway. Because I’d do anything to get to start over with you again.” I swallowed. It took me time to allow his words to sink in. I wasn’t able to form a reply right off the bat.

I did have feelings for Jisung as well. Though it wasn’t prominent at the start, it began to grew the more time we spent together, which was why it made the situation two years ago far more painful than it really was. Apparently Jisung felt that way as well.

“If I allow it, will you be my ukiyo again?” I whispered, looking down to my cup that I have yet to drink a singe drop of coffee from. Jisung leaned in closer and, his face now inches away from mine. My breath hitched in my throat. He still had this affect on me. The ability to have me frozen and stiff with his gaze and actions. It was something only he knew how to do, the only one who could do this to me. 

“Your ukiyo, your Peter Pan. Please...” Jisung leaned forward to rest his chin on top of my head, tilting his head down slowly to place a soft, loving kiss on the crown of my head. One that made me feel as if he was touching something so precious and fragile, the most important thing in the world. “Take me back.” I closed my eyes and took in one deep breath. 

“Take me back to the studio after my shift.” 

[minyoonmeme]

Normalcy of the Pretty Posse

Chapter 2

Word Count: 3708

Pairing: ??? x reader

Description: Stupid Jeongguk and his cute sweaters and pretty posse of hyungs.

Genre: again like 90% fluff, 5% humor, and another 5% of reader literally forgetting how to function a little

(Some rambling because I have no life: here is part 2! I honestly didn’t expect any one to find part 1 so??? thank you guys so much. I’ve missed writing lately and this has been such a good outlet for me. I hope you guys like it.)

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“Hyung…” Jeongguk skids to a stop just before one of the sets of speakers. A whine leaves his mouth as he puffs out some air before tossing his bag haphazardly against a random speaker. “I messed up. Big time.” His legs, just slightly too long for the childish behavior, fold underneath him awkwardly as he flops against the dusty linoleum floor. 

Hoseok looks down at his younger friend as he folds another chair and places it against the wall. “Messed up as in pissing your pants again like that one time Freshman year or getting another C on a test?” Hoseok only laughs when Jeongguk throws a pen from his pocket at him. Jeongguk’s pout settles deeper on his face as his eyebrows furrow and Hoseok knows that whatever is bothering Jeongguk is something a little more closer to the heart than pissing his pants at a frat party after chugging an entire keg upside down.

“Hyung, I’m serious.” Jeongguk closes his eyes and wraps his sweater tighter around his body as he rolls on his left side to look at Hoseok. “You know that girl that dances in the back in your Thursday workshops?” 

“I’m gonna need you to be a little bit more specific, Guk. There are a lot of girls who come here.” Hoseok is only kidding, of course. He and all of Jeongguk’s hyungs know of his crush on the girl who comes every Thursday to his workshops. Jeongguk had originally only come to the workshops because Hoseok was nervous no one was going to come, but that was 2 months ago and despite the sign up list being full every week, Jeongguk still came despite being a little bit more advanced than the beginner classes he attended. Hoseok had offhandedly mentioned that Jeongguk tended to glance at the back, at a particular girl, during another one of their game nights and Jeongguk, wine drunk off of two bottles, giggled as he explained his small crush on a girl who attended Hoseok’s beginner class. 

“Hobi-hyung, she’s not a beginner like have you seen her dance? She just looks so pretty and her hair is just so..” Jeongguk giggles as he wraps a finger around his hair. “...fluffy after she dances.” A small hiccup escapes him as he finishes his glass. “It’s so cute.” Jeongguk, in silent awe, squeals a little into his glass, one of the many stolen from his favorite bar, as he scrunches into a ball and bangs his knee against the table. A smile never leaves his face as he continues to giggle into the fogging glass. 

Hoseok’s heart strings tug at the fond memory he has of his younger friend and decides to leave putting away the rest of the furniture to the workers who litter around him. Jeongguk lays his head against his knee when he sits next to him. “Tell Hyung what happened, Gukie. It can’t be worse than vomiting on the poor girl…..” Hoseok grimaces before giving Jeongguk a look. “You didn’t vomit on her right?” 

Jeongguk shakes his head no before huffing. “I asked her friend last week if (Y/N) was okay since she hasn’t been coming and I don’t know I panicked because like what if I missed my chance to even talk to her. A-and I saw her outside and I walked over and like spoke to her?” Jeongguk knocks his head a couple of times against Hoseok’s knee as he relives the moment in his head. “I was so nervous and sounded so stupid. She probably thought I was stupid and weird for coming up to her. What kind of person asks a stranger if they plan on coming back to some stupid dance class. She probably thinks I’m a creepy ass stalker who watches her dance every week.” 

Hoseok runs his hand through Jeongguk’s hair for comfort as the younger beats himself up mentally. “Are you saying my dance classes are stupid?” It’s meant to be a joke, but Jeongguk shoots his head up and sputters out incomprehensible words. “Guk, I’m kidding. I know you don’t think my classes are stupid, you’re just frustrated at yourself because your first interaction with your crush didn’t go as well as you planned.” Jeongguk flops back down against Hoseok’s thigh as he groans. Hoseok just smiles softly at him wondering how Jeongguk, handsome and all, was someone inept at talking to a simple girl. 

“I may have also lied and told her that you have me here to help out with teaching.” It’s muffled against his leg, but Hoseok hears every word. 

“So you chose to lie, for what?” 

“I panicked! I told her that her coming helped me with the others since she’s obviously experienced. How else was I supposed to explain that I, a complete stranger, noticed she was gone for two weeks? She’ll think I’, watching her or something.” 

“That’s all you ever do, Jeongguk. And besides, I didn’t even notice she was gone and I read the roster every night.” 

Jeongguk smacked his hyung’s hip closest to him as he huffed. “You’re not helping Hyung! Even if you didn’t notice she wasn’t here, she probably thinks I’m a stalker now. A big stupid stalker who can’t even look her in the eyes. I’m gonna be alone forever!”

Hoseok wanted to laugh at him, but decided that he needed to play the role of the helpful caring hyung for now. He’ll let the others clown him later once he retells everything to them tonight. “Gukie, you’re not gonna be alone forever. You’re smart and stupidly handsome. I don’t think you should’ve lied to her, but it’s not life or death, so you should be able to save yourself from this. How about you let your hyung help you a little tonight? Let me work my magic.” 

“You would help me?” Jeongguk throws his arms around his waist and gives a tight squeeze.. Hoseok grimaces from the too tight hug and the dust from Jeongguk’s sweater falling onto his new clothes. He ignores both in favor of giving Jeongguk’s back a few solid rubs. “You’re the best, Hobi-hyung.” 

“You’re on your own after tonight though, Gukie. No more help from your one of kind, amazing, most handsome Hyung.” 

“Jin-hyung isn’t here though?’ 

Hoseok scoffs and pushes Jeongguk off of him as he cackles from the floor. “Go open the doors you ungrateful brat.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Tonight had been… interesting to say the least. 

Yoonjin had chosen to nudge me every time she thought Jeongguk had glanced in my direction resulting in a dull throb in my ribs. 

“Don’t look but he’s looking again… Oh my god, I said don’t look!” 

“You said that the last 4 four times and every time I look back he’s literally looking at Hoseok-shii.” I huffed and rubbed at my right side. Yoonjin has always been stronger than she looks. “Yoonjin, if you ram your boney ass elbow into my ribs one more time I will drop kick you into the wall.”

Yoonjin blinked at me before rolling her eyes. “He keeps looking away. Just trust me why don’t you! Why would I joke about this.” I rolled my eyes and refocused on Hoseok as he explained some of the footwork again. House dance had never been my speciality. 

“I don’t know, maybe you like to see me suffer.” 

“I’m literally trying to help you get a man.”

“No, you’re trying to break my ribs.” 

9 o’clock rolled around sooner than I expected as Hoseok wrapped up his lesson. Many of the students who endured the class in its entirety were shuffling to the walls of the room where their water bottles had long ago since turned lukewarm. Hoseok was not one for lots of water breaks. Used to long durations of exercising and cardio, I had chosen to hang back and stretch out while Yoonjin made small talk with the others around her. I held in my laugh as she shot me a look or two of ‘what the fuck is going on’ and ‘please help me’ while talking to the animated girl with sweat drenched pink ponytails. Figuring that whatever kind of conversation she was wrapped up in was payback enough for the bruising I was sure to have on my ribs for the next week, I chose to let her suffer. 

“You know I think you’d do a lot better in a higher level class.” There stood Jung Hoseok in all his beautiful glory as I attempted to straighten my legs from their lunge. I tried to blame the jittery feeling settling in as adrenaline from the cardio, but I knew my body was just buzzing from having him stand so close. Did he even sweat? How did he manage to smell like fucking flowers after dancing? Damn Jeongguk and his pretty posse. 

“Uh sorry?”

Jung Hoseok smiled and offered a hand to me. I smiled back, although less brightly, and hoped my hands were not as sweaty as the rest of my body. “I just meant that you seem a little more experienced than what this class has to offer. It’s a shame to see talent be wasted on some basic combinations.” His eyes took a quick over my body and I flushed at movement. If he looks at me like that more time, I will be internally combusting. 

“I-uh used to dance growing up.” My hands gripped my shirt as Hoseok proceeded to make eye contact. Does he have to be so nice and beautifully intimidating? A deadly combo for my poor nerves. Do I look away? Is it rude to keep eye contact? Would a wink be appropriate for a first conversation? 

“How long did you take lessons?” 

“Like 14 years maybe? My mom tried to put me in baseball like my brothers when I was 4, but after I started spitting and grabbing my pants before I batted she decided it probably wasn’t a good influence to be surrounded by all boys at home and during practice.” My lips pressed together as I pinched my face in horror. Oh god, why did I say that? Hoseok on the other hand was having a jolly good time as dropped his jaw and choked in a fit of laughter and I screwed my face shut in embarrassment. “I don’t know why I said that. Oh my god, please forget I just said that! I’m just nervous and I say stupid things when I’m nervous. I’m an idiot and I just don’t know how to shut up sometimes.” 

Hoseok continued to laugh as I covered my overheating face with my hands wishing I had grabbed Yoonjin and left before we both got wrapped in unwanted conversations. “Y-you’re too cute. Oh god, I can totally see it!” Hoseok laughed for a few more breaths before settling down into giggles. 

“Hyung...? Is everything okay?” Jeongguk shuffled over with both his and Hoseok’s bags as he glanced between Hoseok and I. 

Hoseok giggled a few more times before accepting his bag from Jeongguk. “I was just just asking if...”  Hoseok titled his head before looking back at me. “I forgot to ask for your name actually, I’m sorry.” 

Not used to having 2 out of 7 members of Jeongguk’s Pretty Posse’s attention on me made me flush even warmer. “No worries, I’m (Y/N).” 

Hoseok smiled at me before swinging his bag on his shoulder and went back to addressing Jeongguk. “I was just complimenting (Y/N) on her dancing. We could do with another dancer on the team don’t you think Jeongguk?” 

“We could?” Jeongguk bugged his eyes out a little at his hyung before throwing a confused look his way. 

Hoseok raised his eyebrows and tiled forward a little bit. “Of course, we could Gukie! Remember we had that talk earlier about adding a new member? Junhoo graduated last semester, so we don’t have anyone to fill his spot.” Jeongguk stared at Hoseok wondering who the hell Junhoo was and when this conversation happened. Hoseok starred a little harder before-Oh! “How about you let your hyung help you a little tonight.” 

“Yes! You’re totally right Hobi-hyung! (Y/N), you would love our dance team! You’d fit right in too!” Jeongguk bounced on his heels a little as he turned to me. Back on was the sweater he had been wearing earlier. Damn. The sweater paws have returned too. 

“Isn’t it all guys? How would that even work? I’m literally like half Jeongguk’s size.” My glance danced between Hoseok and Jeongguk as I bit my lip. 

“Where there is a will, there is a way (Y/N). And I’m sure you won’t pick up any bad habits this time (Y/N). We’re all mannered and hygienic, so no worries!” My jaw dropped as Hoseok poked fun at my previous story and raised his eyebrows at me. That little-

I scoffed and stomped my foot to turn his direction fully. “I wasn’t even talking about that! I can’t believe you! I let one thing slip and you use it against me!” I jutted my lips out in a slight pout as I crossed my arms. 

Jeongguk deflated a little as he watched Hoseok’s teasing glance and my pouting. “Am I missing something?”

“No!” 

“Yes!” 

My finger found a place on his chest as I leaned closer. Are those pecs…?  “Jung Hoseok, you keep your mouth shut!” Those are definitely pecs. 

“I will if you join our team.” 

My mouth fell open as I removed my finger with an inaudible gasp. “I see you play dirty, Jung.” I tsked at him before turning to Jeongguk. “Get your hyung before he embarrasses me more and I combust.” Jeongguk blinks as I give him my sole focus and nods softly, most likely lost on what’s happening. 

“So if that is a yes?” 

Defeatedly, I face Hoseok and shrug my shoulders as I grab my bag from Yoonjin as she approaches. “You’re in luck. I was actually looking to join something a little more advanced dance wise. My body misses dancing despite how old it makes my bones feel.” 

“So.. is that a yes?” Jeongguk reiterates as he bounces forward a little, eyes wide as his hair flops a little. I smile a little as my heart flops along with his hair. I give Hoseok a quick glance and will the oxygen to return to my lungs and brain at the focussed look he gives me. 

“It’s a no.” My heart sinks at Jeongguk’s sudden smile. “Not that I wouldn’t join; I totally would! It’s just I have to find a music production mentor for my Music Composition and Engineering class and I’m basically meeting with strangers every other day until one decides to take me under their wing. I really need this class to graduate and I can’t afford any breaks until I find someone.” My hands are flying everywhere as I try to make my rejection lighter on Jeongguk. 

Jeongguk nods a little and licks his lips as he gives Hoseok a quick glance. Hoseok seems to understand whatever is going on in his head and tilts his head toward him with a hard look as a warning to think before you speak, you love sick idiot. Jeongguk, with a heart often bigger than his brain, ignores his hyung and blurts out, “Yoongi-hyung is a music producer! I can introduce you to him and see if he’d be willing to mentor you.” 

Hoseok closes his eyes and drops his head forward into his hands. Dammit Jeongguk. 

I blink a few times before trying to stop my smile from spreading. “Are you sure? I mean I’d really appreciate it of course, but I know it might be a lot to ask. I’m also a total stranger, so you don’t have to at all!” My mouth suddenly feels dry as I lick my lips. “It would be really great though! Some of the guys I meet are total creeps and I don’t know how many coffees I drink everyday while one of them tries to feel me up.” I force a laugh to lessen my discomfort and hope it comes across as less awkward than I feel. 

Jeongguk looks to Hoseok after I’m done exhausting my voice and they seem to share a meaningful look before Hoseok reaches into his pocket. “Here, give me your number. Jeongguk and I will talk to Yoongi-hyung and see what we can do. He might be willing to meet with you and see if you guys ‘vibe.’” 

My eyes flick up to meet his as I smother another smile. My attempts fail and I grab his phone and giddily put in my number. “You guys are the best! I promise to join you guys if I can resolve this whole mess.” My grin widens as I think about not having to stifle through conversation after conversation every other day in some overpriced cafe with another self employed music producer as they critique every layer of my pieces. “Do guys like cookies? I’m totally baking you guys some cookies as thanks!” 

“Are you ready to go (Y/N)?” 

“Yoonjin! We’re going to be baking cookies for Hoseok and Jeongguk!” Yoonjin furrows her eyebrows as she loops her eyebrows with mine. 

“We are?”

“We are! Is chocolate chip okay?” I offer her no other explanation as I ask Jeongguk with a sweet smile. These pretty boys were coming in handy and so were my depressive episodes’ baking habits. 

“Chocolate-chip sounds great.” Jeongguk licks his lips as he feels his heart rate border an unhealthy pace. “Hyung, we-uh should probably head out and go pick up your package.” 

“My package?” Hoseok finishes adding a baseball bat and a flower emoji to his new contact before catching the look Jeongguk is sending him. “Oh! Yeah, uh, I’ll have Jeongguk text you about Yoongi-hyung. It was nice meeting you (Y/N), get home safely!” 

Yoonjin and I watch them both leave the room before facing each other. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

“I honestly have no fucking clue, but I think I’m gonna die. Please check my pulse.” Yoonjin feels at my neck and sighs. 

“Nope, still alive. Maybe next time though.” 

I re-loop our arms and pull her out of the emptying room. “Come on we have to go get Chaebin from the library before she has another aneurysm over her homework. I’ll fill you in on the way there.”

Yoonjin shrugs and follows along. “I hope you know that if this progresses into some dramatic fated love story I will be living vicariously through you.” 

“I expect nothing less.”

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night, Ralph. (I think I covered all my time zone bases there). I have been thinking lot lately about all the rhetoric in the fandom about Harry’s health and well-being, and how loud it has felt this year. To be clear, I am not asking for you to weigh in with your own speculations about how Harry is doing, unless you feel comfortable doing so. (I’m not telling you what to do either way, obviously, seeing as I am only a little grey icon in your inbox and have no right or way to demand anything of you.) I’m more looking for guidance or even just your rambling thoughts about what is respectful and appropriate when we’re wondering about a celebrity’s well being, and how you handle your own thoughts and assumptions about this. I feel like over the course of the last year we’ve just been inundated with all this panic and speculation about how Harry is unhappy or unhealthy or otherwise not himself, going all the way back to the Jingle Bell Ball Golden performance. Every time we get any new content there’s a wave of people saying he looks too thin and overworked like he’s not getting enough food or rest, or overweight and out of shape (pick a lane, people), he looks stressed, he looks sad, he looks angry, his eyes have lost their sparkle, his smile is dim, he’s addicted to drugs, he’d addicted to drugs because Jeff is doping him up to keep him going, he’s going to quit music, he’s going to hurt himself, blah blah blah. And the people making these “observations” hide behind the assertion that they’re just worried for his health when they’re faced with any sort of criticism.

This whole ongoing rhetoric feels really…icky? I suppose? to me. I do kind of think he has looked more drawn and intense (“stressed” and “sad”) in the content we’ve gotten this year, but I also think (1) the content we’ve gotten has largely been pap shots and stunt stuff, (2) this year he had to postpone his tour, and we know he loves performing so that must have really sucked, and (3) this year has just been rather shit for all of us, we’re all stressed and sad and scared and frustrated by the larger political and social goings on, and by the ways our own lives are impacted. In the past, the content we’ve gotten where Harry looks the happiest and most at ease has been performance footage or him with his family and loved ones. We haven’t gotten any of that this year. It makes sense that the pictures we do get would feature him looking less than completely relaxed and jubilant. And then there are all the assumptions that he’s lost weight or gained weight and is therefore unhealthy or on drugs or drinking a lot and that just honestly pisses me off. You cannot tell jack shit about a person’s health from their weight, and especially not in random pictures taken at random intervals in random settings. To pretend you can is harmful, and Harry probably won’t see you making these assumptions about his mental and physical health based on the prominence of his cheekbones in a set of pap pics, but friends and strangers who are already struggling with their weight will. And the assertion that someone is dealing with an addiction of any kind (or, god forbid, and I hate even typing this, being subjected to drug use at the hands of someone with power over them) is an allegation that a) you can’t make from one picture and b) has really deep, life altering, tragic and painful and hard consequences for that person and all their loved ones, and deserves more respect and deference than to be treated as something you can just throw out into the great wild beyond and then forget about.

But beyond the fact that people are making hurtful and invasive allegations and assumptions about a real person’s private life based entirely on a very very limited and posed and edited set of content that was hand chosen to be given to us, I think the thing that bothers me the most is it feels like the people who are driving these conversations are doing so because they want something from Harry. It’s never (or rarely, I suppose) “man Harry looks tired in the pictures we’ve gotten lately, I really hope he’s taking care of himself, things have been so hard for us all.” It’s always “Harry has been so withdrawn and sad and angry he’s not communicative with fans and he’s not willing to engage with them when he sees them in public and I miss him. I miss my Harry. I miss happy Harry. I want him back. Give me Harry back.” Which tells me the concern isn’t Harry or Harry’s health, but rather the feeling that Harry owes us something that he hasn’t been giving, and now he must pay up or give us a valid excuse.

Then I do, occasionally though, find myself thinking “am I doing exactly what I’m complaining about? Am I assuming the worst of people based on a limited set of insights into their lives?” And in the wake of the Britney legal battle that has been unfolding recently, I sometimes wonder if maybe as fans we do have kind of a duty to call out celebrities when they seem to be struggling or acting incredibly out of character. Most of the time I follow this up immediately with the thought that I’m not responsible for anyone else’s health and safety, much less that of a 27 year old man I’ve never met and have no connection to beyond liking his music and his face, and I do truly believe that, but there is some part of me that feels uneasy just turning off all my concern, because I am a person who tends to be greatly concerned about everyone, who just wants everyone to be happy and healthy and safe and loved, and who wants to help people feel that way, where and when I can. So I guess what I’m asking, in the incredibly long winded and winding way I ask anyone anything (my poor husband, he gets a novel from me every time I ask what he thinks we should do for dinner) is do you have any of these same feelings and concerns? How do your navigate them? Where do you draw a line? Do you just withdraw completely from this type of speculation? How do you balance being a kind, engaged, empathetic fan with being a respectful, responsible fan who knows their limits? (And man, isn’t that the ultimate question?). Your blog is one I end up on whenever something big happens or a particular conversation pops up, because I’ve found that I really value the way you break things down and are willing to consider them from many perspectives, so I appreciate you even taking the time to read this.

Thanks for your interesting thoughts about Harry anon. I feel like there's a lot to respond to here and I'm going to start by answering the questions your questions - and then I'm going to get distracted and talk about a post I really hated.

I'm always a little bit worried about Harry, and all 1D members. He might be really struggling, that's always a possibility. Harry has lived a very intensely scheduled high workload life since he was 16. He might have had all sorts of responses to the fact that that schedule was removed, or anything else that is happening in his life. But I feel like I'm generally pretty boundaried about those concerns.

I think part of it is because my base line assumption is that boyband members are pretty fucked up. You don't need to know a lot about the history of touring musicians to know that. I think I've said before that if 1D members are eating every day and not doing needle drugs then they're doing better than we have any right to expect (and if they're not eating and are doing needle drugs, then those are coping mechanisms for intense stress and there's no shame in either of them).

I do think it helps with boundaries to be starting from a point that acknowledges how hard it is to be a popstar. I'm all about fantasies of omnipotence and in my day to day life I think I can fix all sorts of things, but I don't think I can make any difference to any 1D member's life.

In addition, I am profoundly affected by having been a fan throughout 2016. We know what it looks like when Louis was going through a horrendous, devastating, trauma - and it looks pretty normal.

None of this means I don't have opinions, or worries, but I am aware that my opinions or worries aren't facts. It's rare that I think that my worries should matter even to people reading my tumblr, let alone other fans in general, and certainly not Harry. You say 'am I doing the same thing as other people assuming the worst about people...', but I'd argue that that's actually not the problem. There's nothing wrong with assuming the worst of people. What is wrong is when fans think their assumptions about a celebrity should matter to anyone else. You don't have to turn off your concern to think that it's not a priority.

I definitely think it would be a very bad thing if people took the moral as the 'free Britney' movement as 'fans should call out celebrities when they think they're struggling'. That sort of surveillance isn't effective or useful. What has been useful for Britney is solidarity in a well documented power struggle, which is a very different thing.

And I can't emphasise enough how important the 'well documented' aspect of this is. What most fan worrying about Harry amounts to is: 'I don't like what he's doing, and there's no way he'd do things I didn't like and therefore there must be something wrong with him'. That's a really controlling way of thinking about people. I really think it's important not to reproduce that abusers logic.

I am pretty well insulated from that sort of discourse from a very well weeded dash. But I saw a post that was mostly about other fandom stuff, that treated assumptions like: "Harry must hate being with Olivia and he's suffering and it's clear he's not happy with his image and his team" as building blocks that you don't even have to argue for (this is the post - and I'm going to come back to one of the things someone said that was even worse in a second).

Lets stop for a minute and imagine that Harry hasn't got a problem pretending to date Olivia, and his main concerns are about the messiness of life and his career at this point in time. It is really fucked up and agressive, and pretty hateful towards Harry, to say 'oh he couldn't possibly want this. It's clear that he hates it.' etc. (I feel like I've been making this argument for years about people who object to Louis doing such things as smoking and not performing middle-class culture for them). When fans trash talk what Harry is doing at the moment, and suggest that believing he could be choosing what he's doing is some how an act of huge disrespect to him, there is every chance they are trash talking him and the choices he's making.

The final thing I want to draw attention to is how often this sort of fan storytelling is combined with a profound lack of interest in what 1D members are actually going through. The tags screen shotted and added on to the post I reblogged actually described Holivia as Douis 2.0. Apparently assuming that there was absolutely no connection between Douis, and Louis and his family's ultimately successful efforts to privacy as Jay was dying. What the fuck is wrong with people that they ignore that, and erase that? There's far more interest in making up 1D members suffering so that fans can continue to tell the stories they want to tell, than actual acknowledgement of what we know that they went through.

Sorry I got distracted. What I'm trying to say is that there's nothing wrong with having feelings about celebrities or telling stories about them. But it's so important to acknoweldge the limits of your knowledge and power, even when fandom discourse encourages the opposite.

[pizzaboat]

Lumity

Luz asks Amity to help her bake a cake for Willow's birthday. Chaos ensues.

Wh‐what!?"

Luz smiled angelically at her, leaning closer which made Amity's heart skip a beat.

"I said, do you wanna help me bake a birthday day cake for Willow's party?" 

"Yes!–I mean, sure y-yeah," Amity stammered out, "but didn't she already have her birthday?"

"I mean yeah, but she was sick that day," Luz said, "I don't really get alot of the illnesses that you guys have, but I do know being sick in general sucks Hooty egg's.. this way she'll get to celebrate her birthday properly with her friends!"

Oh titan her heart, this girl would be the death of her;

"Wow, that's really kind of you Luz, does Willow know what kind of cake she wants?" 

"Well you see that's the thing," The human said lowering her voice, "it's a surprise, We have to keep it on the down low."

"Got it," Amity said, nodding, "alright I'll help."

Luz beamed grabbing her hand's, "Thanks Amity, you're the best!"

Before she knew what was happening she was being pulled into one of the girl's signature, crushing hugs. All logic and reason left her for a moment until Luz pulled back and started saying something else. Amity mentally shook herself and tried to focus on anything but the fact Luz was now holding her hand's again.

"–I'll share the juicy details with you later, ok?" The other teen was saying now, "this is gonna be great!"

Before she could respond Luz was already sprinting off down the school corridors to her next class. Amity stood there dumbfounded for a moment trying to process what just happened. 

"Amity, why arn't you in class right now?" Principal Bump said, walking by and breaking her from her trance.

"Oh, sorry!"

––––

Luz knew her friend had arrived the moment she heard shrill screams from the front of the house. She thundered down the stairs and rushed to Hooty's door, but before she got there, it slammed open and Amity was revealed on the other side, a murderous glint in her eye's and a pink fame in her hand.

Hooty noticed her then;

"LUZ SAVE ME, YOURE FRIEND IS CRAZY!!" He screeched. Some of his feathers were singed.

Amity winced and went to finish the job. Uh-oh.

Luz darted to her, grabbing her wrist. The physical contact seem to rile the girl up further.

"I warned that thing never to talk to me again." She growled, trying to break free.

Hooty squaked in fear.

Luz wrapped an arm around her, half comforting and half restraining, guiding the other kid inside, "It's OK, it's over now."

"I just said hi!" Hooty cried and they both ignored him.

The door shut on his voice, and the two girls were alone then. Amity calmed down after a moment or two.

"Sorry about that..," The witch said, "he's just so.." She shuddered then.

"Don't worry about it," Luz said sympathetically, "I still sometimes freak out when I see him. Not everything on the Isles is charmingly weird."

She eventually led her friend into the kitchen.

They took stock of what they need from an old cook book, Luz had found rooting around the house. This particular book was previously being used as a table leg for a random desk.. She'd put it back later.

"OK," Amity said,"what do we do?"

"Um.. I thought you'd know," Luz said sheepishly.

"Wait, why would I know how to bake a cake?" Her friend frowned.

"I don't know, you're smart!" Luz exclaimed, "..I thought you'd y'know, know how.. that's why I asked you."

She didn't miss the blush amity gave at that. Well she does like people recognising her ability..  it must be that.

"Alright," Amity said then, "where's the Owl Lady, maybe she knows what to do?"

Luz shook her head, "Eda's at the market. She won't be back for hours.."

" ..Well I guess we'll just have to make do with what we know," she continued, "and really, how hard can it be for the two of us to bake a cake?"

Her cooking partner frowned at that, "I'd imagine it's difficult when you don't know what you're doing Luz."

"Pshh, we've eaten cake before! We know what good food tastes like, it's all we need!" The teen said trying to hype her friend up;

"we've got a cook book, we've got our wit's and we've got the power of friendship–"

–Nothing can go wrong!" Luz declared.

––––

Everything was going wrong.

"Is it supposed to look like that?" Amity asked her partner.

Luz tried to whipe flour from her face, only smudging it further, she then turned to consult the cook book;

"well it says the mixture should be be kind of a liquid.."

Amity watched the mixture wave at them.

"Does the book mention the batter growing sentience?" Amity said frowning.

"No.." luz sighed.

"We should start over," Amity told her.

"You're probably right." The Luz agreed.

The batter agreed too.

––––

1 hour later.

"I don't really know what's edible in here," Luz admitted, after Amity thoroughly burnt the previous mixture when it tried to eat them.

The smell of smoke still hung in the kitchen, and the fourteen year old opened a window.

"You'd think most foods in a kitchen would be." Amity grunted.

"Well my cooking buddy, I guess we're just gonna have to continue with the process of elimination!" Luz told her.

Amity groaned and luz took out another carton of spider eggs.

––––

3 hours later.

Luz ran a batter covered hand through her dark hair, slicking it back with a white clump of goo. Amity honestly had to say; this is the only time her crush has looked ridiculous to her.

"I think we've got it this time, this is the perfect batter that won't try and talk philosophical nonsense with us, unlike the last three batches." The brown eyed teen sighed in relief.

"I think you're right," Amity agreed, "let's just pour it into a cake tin and be done with this."

Luz nodded, and went to pour the batter into their chosen tin;

"For willow," She said weakly.

"For willow, Amity returned with as much enthusiasm.

––––

15 minutes later.

"WHAT IN TITANS NAME WHERE YOU TWO DOING!?"

Her mentor's sister, had rushed Into the house at the smell of smoke. apparently she'd thought the house was on fire.

Luz and Amity now stood with their head's down covered in soot, abomination sludge and cake mix, completely mortified as the adult infront of them continued to berate them;

"I have never seen anything like this in all my life!"  Lilith said, "and I've seen some serious incompetence in my time, but never something like this!"

Neither girl dared to say a word.

"I expected this from my sister's apprentice, but Amity Blight, I expected more from you." She continued crossing her arms.

Luz watched her friend's cheek's flush in shame.

"I mean what we're you thinking?" Lilith said, "an all out brawl with a cake demon in the kitchen? You almost burnt the house down, how am I supposed to explain this to Edalyn?"

She had an idea then;

" Explain this to Edalyn.. what do you mean by that?"

"Well, she left me encharge, while she went to the mar–oh no, I know that look. It's the same one Edalyn makes."

Luz grinned at her.

"I won't be blackmailed human." Lilith warned.

"So this is technically your fault," Luz said smugly, "your not gonna tell Eda about this, because you need this place."

"This is extortion!" Lilith growled.

"Nah, it's revenge." The teen quipped.

"Luz what you doing?" Amity hissed, voice hushed while pulling her aside and giving her a disproving look.

"Its for Willow," Luz pleaded," plus you don't wanna see Eda when she's mad, she made Me, Willow and Gus clean the entire house top to bottom after we animated it. plus this is Lilith. trust me on this."

Her friend looked conflicted for a moment, Luz could see her weighing up the morality of it behind her golden eyes;

"Fine, do what you need to do," She eventually conceded.

Luz gave a nod and turned back to the disgruntled woman.

"Eda doesn't need to know about this, we can all win here," They said.

Lilith scoffed, "How so?"

"We just have to clean up this mess, and you have to bake us a birthday cake."

The witch's eyebrows shot up at that, "That's a strange demand, why a birthday cake?"

"It's  for a friend," Luz said.

"Fabulous, well I don't cook, and I certainly don't bake cakes for your snot nosed little friend's." Lilith sneered.

"You don't have a choice here," Amity pressed joining in now.

Lilith looked to her with mild shock; She seemed to realise there was no real way out of this.

"Fine." She growled, "five minutes with my Sister and you've both turned into criminals."

––––

Willow's surprise party had gone off without a hitch. Gus had provided the intertainment and Luz and Amity had carted out Lilith's cake.

"Aw guys," Willow had said, "you didn't have to do this!"

"You're our friend," Luz had said, "no amount of monster fighting and black mail is too much for you."

Amity had silently agreed.

Willow and Gus had looked confused then, but Luz and Amity knew the truth, and as they'd both dozed off, head's on each others shoulder's in the middle of the party, they knew they'd be haunted by their actions forever.

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Gonna make full use of my ‘comic rant’ tag and roast Future State: Superwoman.

Spoilers! And yelling! Of the disgruntled kind!

So a few things at the start here: 1.) I wanted to love this book. I wanted it to be great. I wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt, in spite of some iffy stuff in the solicit text. So this rant is not coming from a place of having decided this was going to be awful ahead of time. 2.) My tolerance for bad Supergirl comics is pretty high! Takes a lot for me to actually come out and say that a particular issue is trash. Reader: This story is trash.

It’s not ‘middle-aged white guys writing/drawing a story about sending a minor to a potentially hostile planet fully nude’ trash, mind you. It’s the compost bin, rather than the landfill. Slightly nicer trash, but it still stinks to high heaven. Allow me to expand!

PROLOGUE - SUMMARY: ...I actually can’t summarize this comic b/c it would devolve into a lot of senseless yelling. We’ll just have to tease out this terrible plot as we go along. 

PART I - DEAD DOGS TELL BAD TALES: The comic opens with Kara standing at Krypto’s grave. That’s not why this comic is trash, but it bears mentioning. Because why. Why would you do this. 

PART II - IN WHICH IT ONLY GETS WORSE: So, Kara has a running inner monologue, and the main thing we gather from Kara’s thoughts is that it was Krypto who taught her to be a hero. On paper, that sounds very sweet! In practice, it reads as Kara having no moral center whatsoever—whatever good qualities she might possess, she did not learn from her parents, or her foster parents, or friends, or fellow heroes. Nor do they come from within Kara herself. Nope, t’was Krypto who taught Kara not to be a jealous rage monster. That is not hyperbole--Kara’s walking around angry about her cousin all the time and she’s like, ‘It was you, Krypto, who taught me not to judge, and to let go of anger.’ Listen, I love Krypto, but this? This is, as the youth would say, a bad look.

PART III - THOSE CERTAINLY ARE...SOME THEMES: The set-up here is that Kara is on the moon, and has established a sanctuary for alien refugees. That’s a dynamite idea! I love that! Buuuuut Kara didn’t look at the plight of alien refugees and say, ‘I want to help!’ Really, she didn’t even look at herself and say, ‘I don’t want others to feel like I’ve felt.’ No, she said, ‘Earth won’t accept me as a hero, and Clark didn’t name me protector of Earth, so. I’m out!’ (Honestly, if your moral compass is so whack that you need a dog to walk you back from Hulk-Smashing...can’t say I blame Clark for not picking you, Kara!) But apparently, the people on the moon don’t really like her either. And it is literally never explained why. There’s a whole montage of Kara fixing stuff and saving lives and all the moon folk just glare at her. This makes both the moon people AND Kara look like a**holes, because they come across as ungrateful, and she comes across as a glory hound. Thanks! I hate it! So the ‘peace’ Kara’s found on the moon isn’t really peaceful at all, cause she still resents her cousin, and people still don’t like her, in spite of the fact that she’s constantly performing acts of service for them. 

Also, side note, I’m just now realizing this is an entire population of alien refugees...and Kara is somehow still the odd one out. Like, Earth I get, because everyone else is a human and maybe freaked out by the super powers. But a bunch of aliens? WHY. Why did you do this. Why did this need to be set on the moon with alien refugees if you’re not going to interrogate Kara’s identity as an alien refugee herself AND all of the aliens are inexplicably humanoid in appearance and utterly ordinary in terms of power levels.  

Like. This is not the CW show, where they have a budget, and a huge ensemble cast to serve. YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE. AAARRRRRGHHHH.

PART III CONT’D: There’s also this weird ‘birthright’ element introduced...like, Clark and Jon stole Kara’s ‘right’ to be earth’s defender which is...a terrible reading of Kara’s modern origin. It brings in the idea that Kara is a ‘chosen one’ and because she didn’t get to be that chosen one, all of her hero work is for nothing. Never mind the whole central conceit of what makes Clark and Kara heroic...that they have this incredible power, and choose to do good with it. Nah...it’s all about her ‘right’ to protect the people of Earth! And mean ol’ Clark took that away! THANKS. I HATE IT. 

PART IV - A POOR USE OF SPACE: So, all of the Future State books kind of struggle with the issue of too much exposition, which is understandable. They have to introduce an entirely new status quo in a very limited amount of literal page space, so you *really* have to have a handle on how you allocate your time and focus.  

Introducing a brand new, lore-heavy heroic character who gets all of the development and dynamic art and pulls focus away from the character you’re meant to be writing is a bad use of a two issue limited series.

Like, this is a crappy Supergirl comic but it’s a great backdoor pilot for a Lynari ongoing, I guess. 

Imagine if in the Jon Superman book, they introduced a random, brand new best friend for Jon, and he got the big character arc instead of Jon. That’s something you save for an arc in an ongoing title, NOT A TWO ISSUE EVENT COMIC.  

Back to said new character, there’s a lot of forced attempts to parallel Kara and Lynari, but Lynari’s backstory is so confusing, rushed, and poorly explained that it’s like: okay, they’re both...angry? And the moon jerks hate them? ...uh. Okay.

(I’m gonna bring back my ‘why is this set on the moon, even’ question so that my ‘poor use of space’ header becomes a better joke.) 

PART V - I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO...B/C THERE SURE AIN’T ONE HERE: I’ve already mentioned that Krypto was apparently Kara’s conscience so when Lynari’s aunt arrives to...kill them? (again, everything about Lynari’s backstory is rushed and poorly explained) Kara gets real mad and basically pulls a Gothel: ‘You want me to be the bad guy? Fine! Now I’m the bad guy.’ But thank goodness Lynari is there to tell Kara no! Don’t murder the giant aunt eel! Lynari then steals Kara’s powers and gives up the swamp jewel that’s been hidden inside their body and now their aunt is less murder-y!

WOW. Couldn’t even give the big damn hero moment to Kara in her own book, huh?

So the day is saved. It takes Kara a while to regain her powers, and it’s only then, when she’s no longer ‘above’ the moon jerks, that they’re like, ‘oh, we like her!’ There is a bit of narration about how that attitude is awful. But that narration is provided by Lynari. See, the inner monologue is no longer Kara’s thoughts, but rather it has switched to Lynari’s point of view. They’re telling us this story. And do you know why?

PART VI - WHY THIS COMIC *SUCKS*: KARA DIES. SHE’S THE FRIGGIN’ ‘SECOND GRAVE’ OF THE TITULAR ‘TWO GRAVES’

Fudge this comic to heck.

See, Kara dies on the moon, presumably of old age. She’s buried next to Krypto. And this random character who we’re suddenly supposed to care about tells us her story. Not Clark. Not the Danvers. Not Brainy. Not even one of the supporting cast members from her solo title. No one from Kara’s life is mentioned at all, save for Jon and Clark, and they’re pretty much relegated to flashbacks of Kara punching them. 

PART VII - TIME TO COMPARE DEATHS, I GUESS: First and foremost can I just say that I hate that’s a sentence that I’m typing about Kara in the year of our lord, 2021. But okay: Kara’s big famous death in Crisis stopped the entire DC universe cold. Everyone paused in the middle of the destruction of the multiverse to mourn her loss and honor her (GENUINELY HEROIC) sacrifice. Clark and Barbara--two established characters with a strong connection/relationship to Kara--offered lovely eulogies. 

This one: Kara gets to die of old age in obscurity after a lifetime of striving to be recognized and only achieving it by de-powering and serving a population of jerks. 

Not the warm and fuzzy ending you think it is!

(Meanwhile, Clark lives for millennia and spawns an entire dynasty of Els, all of ‘em out there, protecting the cosmos. I was looking forward to House of El in the hopes of maybe seeing some Kara stuff but NOPE. Thanks to Superwoman, we’re probably not gonna see any future Kara stuff beyond this! G R E A T)

And like, the argument could be made that this ending makes Kara happy. This is the life she chooses! She wants to be alone and garden on the moon! Except, we get zero insight from Kara regarding the remainder of her life. We only have Lynari’s narration and some montage shots...nearly all of which focus on other characters. But honestly, even if we did get Kara’s side of things, I doubt it would shed much light on her feelings, bEEECAUSE...

PART VIII - SUPER BLAND: This Kara really has no personality outside of ‘detached and vaguely bitter.’ I like Sauvage, I think she’s an incredibly talented artist, but here, Kara is stiff and her expression often reads as aloof. She’s very pretty, but it comes at the expense of being expressive. (And I know Sauvage can do expressive stuff...because Lyanari gets to be expressive.) Like...I love that shojo manga vibe but this is a Kara devoid of spark and warmth. 

...Like...Melissa Benoist’s portrayal of Kara is right there... 

I’ve already sort of touched on this but her inner monologue doesn’t have much personality either. She’s just parroting the same, ‘I need to do as Krypto taught me!’ nonsense for both issues. Until, of course, we shift to Lynari’s narration, and lose Kara’s thread entirely. 

PART IX - LET’S WRAP THIS UP: This book frustrates me to no end because it had a lot of stuff going for it. It’s got a female writer and artist--still a rarity for the Supergirl book--it’s a limited series mostly free of continuity and character baggage, and it’s not tied down to the grimdark cyberpunk stuff happening in the Gotham books. YOU COULD’VE DONE ANYTHING. And, once again, DC goes with a pitch that’s: Kara is angry, Kara resents Clark...and Kara dies.

It’s also happening...right as Kara has no dedicated ongoing title, the movie’s been shelved, the TV show is entering its sixth and final season, and all promotion has shifted to new CW and HBO shows. 

*screams into the void* 

MAAAAAAN I hate this book. I hate that it retroactively makes me hate the Andreyko run a little bit--a run that I took to be about a traumatized young woman forced to confront her grief, and who leans on a beloved animal companion for comfort. Here, Krypto is L I T E R A L L Y the reason Kara’s not constantly frying folks with her heat vision. 

I hate that this book has made me use the word ‘literally’ so much in this rant.

I hate that this could possibly be more in continuity than Millennium.

Remember Millennium? Where Kara was in like...five pages? And she was warm, and kind, and promised to help Rose because it was the right thing to do, and oh yes, WAS PRESIDENT OF EARTH?!??! AND A CLASSY OLD LADY!?!?!?!?! WHO WAS STILL ALIVE AND KICKIN’ IN THE FAR FLUNG FUTURE!?!?!?!?!

I hate that I’m using my lunch hour to rant about how much I hate this comic.  

I hate that DC editorial seems hell-bent on erasing the interesting aspects of Kara’s character to sand her down to ‘the angry one’ or ‘Batman 2.0′

PART X - LET’S END ON SOME (?) POSITIVES: Don’t read this book! Don’t do it! Don’t waste your time and money!

Instead, check out ANYTHING ELSE. If you want mom!Kara, read Tom Taylor’s ‘Last Daughters of Krypton’ in the DC Nuclear Winter special. If you want heroic oldlady!Kara, read Millennium. Honestly? Pick up anything by Bendis that has Supergirl in it. It is miles away better than this. You want angry Kara working through her grief? Andreyko, Red Lantern, even Infected. ANYTHING BUT THIS. HECK, grab Superman of Metropolis instead! That has bad Kara characterization but at least she doesn’t end up dead. 

Anyways. This comic is bad. I wish it wasn’t! And this is now the SECOND TIME IN A ROW that Kara’s book ends on a terrible note before the character disappears from monthly comics for an unknown period of time.  

*screams into the void again*

[rose-sunlight]

you and spencer have been dating for 2 years and in the episode ‘Demons’ you get shot in the neck instead of spencer and when you wake up in the hospital, the doctor come in telling you you’re pregnant, and afterwards spencer gives this big love speech and proposes to you in the end.

Hey! Sorry this took such a long time, but this was slightly difficult considering I couldn’t actually find 9x24 in my country, which sucked ass. I basically had to use a transcript, so it may seem off to you guys. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

RSVP: Marry Me?

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader, Platonic!BAU x Reader

Warnings: Blood, Getting Shot, 9x24 Spoilers, Angst, Pregnancy

Texas was hot. It wasn’t the smartest observation that Y/n could’ve taken on, not at this specific moment, but it was still a factual piece of data. Spencer loves factual pieces of data, he was always spouting random facts to her in their shared apartment, either in between romantic embraces or in the most sporadic of moments.

“Did you know the scientific term for brain freeze is “sphenopalatine ganglioneuralgia?”

“If you cut down a cactus in Arizona, you’ll be penalized up to 25 years in jail. It is similar to cutting down a protected tree species!”

“Fun fact, Romeo and Juliet wasn’t an original piece, it was actually based on a poem called “The Tragical History of Romeus and Juliet” that he changed the ending to because he didn’t like how most of the characters died. Romeo and Juliet was therefore a work of…what did you call it, Y/n, ‘fan fiction?””

“The youngest pope was actually 11 years old, so think about that the next time you call me a nerd for completing my undergrad at 16, Y/n”

“Did you know that 58 percent of Americans have called in sick at work when they weren't? And that 91 Percent lie regularly?”

Y/n would have to sigh and push him off her legs, keeping her hands rooted firmly in his hair still “No Spencer, we’re not calling in sick because of a statistic, get up.”

And he would oblige, standing up and putting on his shirt as he glared at Y/n jokingly, before she turned to get out of their bed, showering before work, the smell of coffee and bacon wafting through the house. Sure, boxes were still everywhere, and Y/n was convinced that half her shirts had gone missing from the move, and yes, there was probably a stray racoon in one of these boxes, but it felt like home. Their first home.

Y/n’s desperately wanted to be home right now. Texas, as she had already stated, was hot. It was hot and it wasn’t home, where she could lie in her own bed without sweating profusely, even though Spencer was a human heater most nights. She could even feel him now, his heat radiating as he held her close and tightly in his arms as he whispered sweet nothings into the top of her head. She would’ve smiled if she could’ve; right now, all she could focus on was gasping for her next breath.

Spencer had his arm pressed tightly to her neck, and was crying. Blake, now that Y/n focused more clearly, was screaming out for anyone to help. “We need a medic now!” She was yelling into her comms, “There’s too much blood!”

Oh, Y/n thought, that was her.

It became all too clear now, the Unsub, the bullet…the firearm pointed straight at Blake, with no one focused on her to warn her. She had jumped out of her cover at the last minute, attempting to help her fellow agent. She hadn’t even thought about Spencer, who had to drag her lifelessly away to find cover, and was now softly scolding her as she lay dying. She could remember her teammates calling out her last name, but only now was the fogginess of her mind lifting.

It was replaced by sheer, immense pain. The worst part was that she couldn’t cry, or breathe, to express the amount of earth-tearing pain she was in. Instead, all Y/n could do was lie on the floor uselessly as Spencer watched her bleed out in his arms.

He softly cupped her face, stroking it affectionately as she closed her eyes and opened them drowsily. “Hey. Hey, you’re doing great, alright?” Y/n let out a dopey smile, only half of her lips moving. “Yeah. You gotta stay right here, ok?”

Blake moved to check the blood pouring out of the wound, but wasn’t happy with the results. Y/n’s eyes closed for longer, and Blake was the one to take notice “Eyes on me, L/n,” She instructed “Eyes on me,” Her tone was firm, but you could tell she was panicked.

Y/n shut her eyes, and she could hear Blake calling out for someone “No, no. No.” She was crying, much more emotional than Blake usually was towards anyone on their team. “Ethan? Ethan!”

Everything went black, except for the red-hot fire around her, licking from her neck to her fingertips.

The next time Y/n came too, she was in an ambulance. Spencer had a hand wrapped around hers, and she could vaguely see Derek, sitting and having his wound treated to. There were no two other people she would want by her side at the moment. Spencer’s warm presence was anchoring her to this body, to this life, and Derek was doing much the same. But there were too many loud noises: one in particular was sending shocks through her body. It was loud, like a high-pitched dog whistle, the kind you could hear when your ears were still young, and didn’t know evil words of the world.

“The sound is like a teakettle. Do you hear it?”

Spencer looked up through tears “What?”

“Y/n” Derek softly said, but it was no use, her chest arched upwards, her body tensing as if she had been tazed. There was beeping, and everything seemed to rush. The EMT’s began to work on her, spitting fast words at each other. Spencer was smart, he knew what they meant: Y/n L/n was dying, right here In this ambulance, she was flatlining. He couldn’t stop his sobs.

“Y/n!” Derek cried out again, but the EMT that was patching him up pushed him back to a sitting position.

“Agent, you’ve got to sit back.”

Derek was frantic “You gotta help her, man.”

Spencer was muttering things to her, like she would hear him and wake up, immediately stop bleeding out. “Come on, now, baby, stay with me. I’m right here. Y/n!”

There was more beeping, and for a second, Derek was sure she was gone. “Y/n!”

The waiting room was sombre and quiet. Nothing felt right without her by their sides, cracking jokes and smiling with the widest smile she could. Her family had been told, but no one could get out. They all lived far away, far enough that travelling to the hospital where Y/n was fighting for her life was impossible. So, all that was left was the BAU, her chosen family, all in various states of unrest and upset. Derek had been taken to another room to be bandaged up, but he vowed he would not stay in the room long, and that he’d be with them in minutes. It had been an hour, and no news had come through the doors.

JJ walked through the door, tucking her phone back into her pocket and approaching Alex, who was sitting off by herself, hands grasping each other, still red with their teammates blood. JJ tried not to wince. “Anything yet?” She asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“No.” Blake shortly replied. Her eyes were fixed on her hands.

“Y/n would have profiled like two people by now out of boredom. Maybe 3.” Garcia noted sadly. It was true, Y/n had a certain knack for profiling people based on appearance; the BAU ladies often took her out to bars just so she could pick out the good dates from the bad. Of course, they didn’t just bring her along for that—she was also a mean Karaoke partner.

This seemed to make Blake even sadder “It should have been me.”

JJ shook her head “Or me or any of us.”

“No,” She said, standing up to face the other Agent with unshed tears in her eyes “She pushed me out of the way. If she doesn't make it—”

Spencer stood up “I can’t listen to this.” He told them, moving towards the door. Rossi stood up too, blocking his exit by placing a handout.

“You can’t leave. She needs you here, and we can’t let you put up your walls right now. Sit down, kid.” He instructed, looking to Hotch for support. Hotch just nodded, patting the seat next to him. Spencer didn’t have the energy to protest, so he let himself sink down into the chair, wiping his eyes.

“She has to. Make it, I mean. She's just--she's too young.” Rossi said towards the other agents, who were looking guiltily towards their friend, who was sitting with his head in his hands, blood still on his clothes, face, hair, and hands. He was shaking like a leaf, his left leg bouncing erratically.

“Yeah, there's still things for her to do,” JJ said, sitting back down beside Garcia, “You know, she wants kids. Can you imagine Y/n as a mom?” JJ laughed softly

“I reckon she’d be a straight up soccer mom. Y’know, riding around in the Volvo, picking up little Timmy and Lorraine from practice?” Garcia joined in, smiling at the very picture of Y/n, one of her closest friends, and fairly guarded with her emotions, being a soccer mom. Then, she was overcome with emotions, spotting Spencer again, who’s jitters had calmed. He was thinking of the same things. “That'd be the luckiest kid in the world.”

“No doubt.” Rossi said with a smile, patting Spencer on the back as he did so.

Spencer’s sobs broke through the room’s silence, and everyone seemed to freeze. Their friend wasn’t usually so loud with his emotions, it seemed like whenever he cried, he cried silently. This was different; this was loud, and heart-wrenching. It was muffled behind his knuckle, which he was biting to keep from making noise. It wasn’t helping. JJ began to cry, too, and then his friends were all around him in a group hug. Whatever the outcome of the day would be, it was nice to know they would still be a family.

People came and went after that: there was still a case to solve. Although everyone wanted to focus on Y/n, there were young women being killed, and if they could save them too, then maybe everything could return to normal. Spencer, Blake, and Garcia were the only ones left.

“Agent” A doctor said as he approached the three agents as if he were approaching wild animals. Blake’s heart was in her mouth as she tried to keep herself composed. Garcia was latched onto Spencer, whose knees looked as if they would give out at any moment. As the doctor entered the room, he shot up, clasping a hand around his mouth.

Garcia held his hand tightly, speaking for him in a soft voice “How is she?”

“Incredibly lucky” He replied while Spencer let out a sigh of relief, wiping his eyes once more. The doctor still looked concerned though, so he let them continue speaking “Two millimetres to the right and the bullet would have torn through the carotid artery. It nicked some smaller vessels, but we've stopped the bleeding.”

“Oh, thank god,” Garcia sighed, placing a hand on her heart.

“Are you her partner?” The doctor glanced towards Spencer, who looked up and sniffed.

He nodded weakly “Uh…yes, yeah, I am.”

“Ok, great. Can we speak in private? Just through here.” The doctor said. Spencer gave a nervous glance to Garcia, who just nodded for him to go. “You could see her now, if you’d like, Agents.”

“Yeah, I will. I’ll keep her company, Spence.” Spencer nodded and made his way to the doctors office. It was a small office with surgical white walls, with one brown oak desk sitting in the middle o the room, the computer ancient and dusty.

“So, Agent Reid-”

“It’s…it’s Doctor.” Spencer corrected, feeling the pang in his heart when he realised it wasn’t Y/n correcting the man. The doctor nodded with a sympathetic smile, before typing something into his computer quickly.

“So, I can assure you that Agent L/n is as healthy as she could be. We ran all the tests we could to ensure her recovery was quick. However,” Spencer sucked in a harsh breath, shifting position in his seat, “when running a blood test to check for infections and see if her kidney functions were all good, well, we did notice…an irregularity. Her hCG levels are increasingly high, which does in fact indicate a pregnancy which has affected our duty of care.”

Spencer wanted to cry. He wanted to sob from a mix of elation and fear, but instead, he just blinked. He had so many thoughts about how he should react that he actually forgot to do so. The doctor was waiting for him to say something, but it was a few painful seconds before he could actually conjure a sentence. This was all wrong. Y/n was supposed to be here to find this out with him.

Spencer’s mouth was dry, and felt as if someone had force-fed him cotton. “Is…is it…?”

“We did extensive checks, both mom and baby are fine. She’s set to wake up in an hour or so—do you want a nurse to explain everything to her?”

Spencer paused before shaking his head “No…no, I’ll tell her.”

And so he does. Spencer walks into her private room, where Garcia has organised all her favourite things on the meal tray, and lets out a smile. Photos of the team and Y/n line the tray, along with trinkets from her favourite TV shows. Blake is to the side of the room on one of the uncomfortable chairs, her eyes constantly on Y/n’s form.

And then, Spencer only sees Y/n. She’s been propped up by one of the nurses on an endless amount of pillows, and her neck is tightly bandaged. One hand rests on her stomach, and the very thought sends a tingle down his spine. But she’s awake, and looking around the room at her friends. The doctors said she’d be asleep for another hour: clearly, they’d never met Y/n, who always exceeded expectations.

“Hey, Spencer, can you tell her she can go now, please?” Y/n raised a single finger to Blake, who had raised her head again with a soft smile “I'm ok, Alex. Go help the team. Spencer’s here, I’ll be fine!”

Blake stood up, patting her legs “All right. I'm out of here,” She said, turning to leave the room with one final statement, “I'm glad you're awake.”

“Thank you” Y/n said with a large smile, before wincing at the strain on her neck.

Garcia took note of his poorly concealed smile, but probably chalked it down to seeing his love awake and smiling back at him “You ok, Spencie?” She asked, before setting down one final trinket on the table.

“uh…yeah, yeah, I’m great, Garcia. Could you possibly get us some coffee?”

Garcia nodded and left the room. Truthfully, Spencer wasn’t thirsty, he just wanted to be alone with his favourite person, and his new favourite creation. He wanted to spout random facts he had learnt about pregnancy to Y/n, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth. Even though she was awake, the seeds of doubt had already been sewn, and he was waiting for a drop in vitals, and the moment he’d have to say goodbye to the life he’d already built in his head. He had to make sure Y/n was alright.

Y/n was staring back at him fondly as Spencer stroked her cheek. “When this comes off, I'm gonna look just like Boris Karloff.” She said jokingly.

Spencer let out a small chuckle, “A little green makeup and you'll have the best Halloween mask ever.”

She went to get up out of bed, but Spencer placed a hand on her stomach to keep her down. “Everybody's fine. Don't worry.” He assured her

“I'm not. You’re the one that’s got that furrowed brow.”

“Just worried about you, that’s all. Hey, the doctor told me something before I got in here…” Y/n shifted again, fear hitting her in a wave—was there something wrong? She couldn’t help the dark spiral her mind was going towards. “Don’t worry, it’s…unexpected, definitely, but it’s something we both wanted.”

“Okay…Spence, you’re scaring me a little bit, what’s up?”

“The doctor found high levels of hCG in your blood.” He blurted out. Y/n placed a hand on her mouth, tears filling her eyes, “Don’t worry, though, the…the baby’s fine. They’re ok.”

“oh my god, Spencer,” Y/n was beyond emotional “I could’ve died and not known about it. I almost killed…”

Spencer placed a hand over hers, smiling softly and as reassuringly as possible. “You didn’t, though, and you didn’t know! Look, it wasn’t anyone’s fault—you’re alright, so is she!”

Y/n nodded “I know, but-wait, did you say she?”

“Well, technically, we all start as female, so yeah, she would be a she right now-”

Y/n let out a loud laugh “Spencer, I’ve known about her for thirty seconds, and you’ve already spouted a fact.” He blushed a bright red colour “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Spencer said, before bringing his hand to her midsection lovingly “And I love you too. In fact, I love you, Y/n, more than I thought I could ever love anyone. I’ve loved you since the day I first saw you enter the BAU, and I’ll love you until the day I die, because loving you…” he tried to swallow his emotion “loving you is the best possible thing I could ever do with my life…uhm, sorry, I’m add-libbing here, I didn’t bring a speech. I was going to do it when we got home yesterday, but…this all happened…I don’t even have the ring with me…”

“Spence…”

“So this isn’t the proposal. This isn’t, because I want to do it right, and…and you’re in a hospital bed, it just doesn’t feel right. So, this is more like a RSPV for a later date. So, Y/n L/n, when I ask you to marry me…”

Y/n’s voice was overcome with such emotion, it was almost like a different person. She smiled widely, not caring about the amount of pain she was in, or the safest amount painkillers they had given her, and nodded her head at the man in front of her, his frame bent over her bed, too afraid to sleep beside her in case she broke, “Spencer Reid, I will say yes.”

Their kiss was tender and full of promises.

When Garcia came back with the coffee, she took notice of how the couple was latched onto each other, eyes closed and a tangle of limbs. She noted how Spencer was finally sleeping, and how Y/n had one hand in his hair, and the other on her stomach, where her fingers interlocked with Reid’s. She smiled to herself, took a sip of her coffee, and placed the other down on the side, before turning off the main light and leaving the room. She had a serial killer to catch.

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[bktynes-writes]

Hey friends! Chapter 2 is up because I’m impatient and didn’t wanna wait to post until Tuesday. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters. Read on ao3.

The Blood of the Covenant

Chapter 2: Drinks

Dean's mouth had gone dry. He sat, frozen, hand clasped firmly in the grip of the man in front of him. He was dimly aware of the fact that he had taken far to long to respond, and the look Castiel was giving him now made him even more painfully aware of the knot forming in his stomach.

Novak. The name rang in his ears. He composed himself and managed to shake the man's hand before withdrawing his own and lifting his glass. 

"Novak, huh? What is that, Serbian?" He grinned at the surprised look that crossed the face of the other man.

"Yes, actually." He turned back to face the bar. "Most people don't get that the first try."

Dean chanced a glance at him from the corner of his eye and caught the small smile still tugging at the corner of his lips. Something in Dean's chest tightened as he wondered what it would be like to see him smile in earnest.

"So, Castiel, do you make a habit of jumping into random people's bar fights?" Dean asked. He motioned to Lee for another round. The alcohol in his veins made him less aware that he was sitting with a potential rival and more aware of how attractive he found the man.

"No, I can't say that I do," Castiel replied. "But I'm new in town. And I like this bar. I would rather it not be sullied by unsavoury company." He thanked Lee with a nod as he placed down two bottles of beer on the bar.

"Well, Dean here is about the most 'unsavoury' as it usually gets in here, and you seem to have made his acquaintance rather nicely." Lee provided with a smirk.

"Dean," Castiel said to no one in particular. It was like he was testing the name, rolling it around on his tongue to see how it felt, and when he let it loose from behind is lips in that low growl of a voice, Dean felt his knees wobble, making him very thankful for the stool under him.

"Right, yeah. Dean Smith," He introduced himself, and he didn't miss the look from Lee who, mercifully, did not comment at his use of a pseudonym. "Sales representative with Sandover Enterprises." He smiled.

"Sandover?" Castiel questioned. "The steel distributor?"

"The very one," Dean replied, raising his beer to Lee and giving him a look that he hoped conveyed the importance of his silence. It must have worked because Lee turned and busied himself cutting limes on the back bar.

"I see." Said Castiel. "Tell me, Dean, can I often expect to have to jump in and save you from brutes prowling alleyways and backwater establishments? No offence." He added to Lee, who raised his hands in surrender and continued to obviously ignore their conversation.

Dean chuckled. "No, I'm usually good on my own, Cas. It's just been a long day."

Castiel's lips twitched at the use of the nickname. "Ah. I understand. The last few weeks have been...exhausting."

"Oh yeah?" Dean looked the man up and down, letting his eyes linger slightly on his broad shoulders, his throat where his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and back to his impossibly blue eyes. "You don't look like a labourer. And I'm guessing this whole tax accountant thing you've got going isn't the case either from the way you swing a punch. What do you do?" He felt like he was in grade school trying to make friends again, asking what their favourite colour was.

"My family..." Castiel began, pausing and looking down at his drink. "Let's just say we've got varied interests." He smiled slyly at Dean, who was suddenly very aware of how his hands were itching to reach out and thread themselves through Castiel's hair. He kept them clasped tightly around the cold glass of his beer bottle instead.

"Well, maybe it's a good thing I ran into you then, Cas," Dean drawled. He let his tongue dart out quickly to wet his lips and didn't miss the way Castiel's eyes flicked down at the movement. "I've got some 'varied interests' of my own." 

Dean could see the man's pupils dilate over the bottle that hung at his mouth. There was a distinct red tinge to his cheeks as his eyes flitted across Dean's face, from his lips to his eyes to his throat, back to his lips. Dean pulled his lower lip between his teeth and smiled at the nearly inaudible gasp that escaped the other man.

Dean heard Lee cough, fake and dramatic, behind him. He grimaced as the trance Castiel's eyes held over him was broken. Cas shook himself and turned his face from Dean to peer sheepishly at Lee, who was now smirking at both of them.

"Well, Mr. Smith, thank you for this...eventful evening. When I say the pleasure was mine, I mean it most sincerely." He took one last long swig from his beer and clambered off of his seat. "Perhaps if I'm lucky, I'll get the chance to see you again." He turned on his heel, trenchcoat billowing behind him as the breeze from the door caught it. Then he was gone.

"Dean Smith?" Lee chided. "Really?"

Dean didn't realize he had turned to watch him leave until he heard Lee speak. He spun around to see a knowing smirk plastered across his face and rolled his eyes.

"What?" Dean scowled, taking a few more gulps from his beer.

"Nothing, man, nothing..." Lee chuckled. "Just the next time you eye fuck a dude at the bar, you should probably have the decency to give him your real name. Maybe your number?"

"Shut up." Dean groaned. "I just heard about the Novaks tonight at dinner, okay? Bela says they're trying to start a war in her district, and Sam and I are supposed to 'deal' with them." He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes until stars popped behind them. "Why did it have to be Novak..." He said quietly.

Lee roared with laughter. "Because you, Winchester, invite trouble wherever you go, and I have seen that look on your face before."

Dean flipped Lee the bird and reached over to take Castiel's abandoned beer bottle. "Yeah? What look is that?"

"You think he's cute, and you wanna feed him shots until he's drunk enough to let you blow him behind the dumpsters at Antoni's on 64th St." Lee raised an eyebrow as Dean choked on his mouthful of beer.

"That is...oddly specific," Dean said when he recovered.

"Only because it's the same way you used to look at me." Lee shrugged and turned back to his limes as Dean glowered at him. "And that's specifically what happened with us."

"That was thirteen years ago, Lee," Dean said, his voice dropping. "Things are different now."

"I know, I know. Things change, people change even more," Lee glanced over his shoulder, the same shit-eating smirk as before stuck on his face, but this time it didn't quite reach his eyes, "you've always been a hopeless romantic Dean, no matter how much you hate to admit it. And I like to think, after all this time, I know you pretty well, sometimes even better than you know yourself."

Dean looked away as Lee made a few more drinks for some of the other patrons. He couldn't bring himself to look him in the eyes. He was right; Dean did find Castiel attractive.

It was getting late, and as more people rolled in off the street to escape the rapidly cooling night, Lee became too busy to chat with Dean any longer. He finished the two bottles of beer in front of him, bid Lee a quick farewell with a promise to come back again soon, and departed.

He was rather tipsy now, and the alcohol sloshed warmly in his stomach as he walked back through the city towards downtown. He wasn't ready to go home yet, but the conversation with Lee had left him feeling less than willing to engage in meaningful human interaction, and he knew there was a strip club a few blocks away that might offer just the distraction he needed.

He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and pulled out a crushed pack of menthol cigarettes. Dean didn't often smoke, but the alcohol combined with the thoughts in his head had him craving the sweet sting of nicotine. He stopped on the corner and lit one of the white paper tubes, hissing on the inhale as the minty smoke filled his lungs.

What did Lee know? So what if he thought the dark-haired, blue-eyed man in the trenchcoat was cute? He was a Novak, and if Bela was to be trusted - which he quickly reminded himself was questionable - that made him the enemy. Still...Dean found himself thinking more and more explicitly about Castiel as he continued to walk.

Would his pupils blow wide with desire and blackout that gorgeous blue if Dean touched him in just the right way? What would his already messy hair look like after having had fingers run through it a few times? How would Dean's name sound, groaned and gasped, in that rough voice, made deeper by lust? What would those chapped, pink lips look like slick with spit, wrapped around his - 

"Hey! Watch it, buddy!" Shouted a voice as Dean's shoulder bumped into another man on the sidewalk. "Fuckin' drunk..."

Dean couldn't even be bothered to respond to the man he had walked into. He really had been deep in his thoughts. Looking up, he realized his feet had once again carried him unconsciously to his destination, and he praised his knowledge of the city for allowing him to lose himself without getting lost.

Rowena's club was one of Dean's favourite places - second only to his car - and the buzzing neon sign above the door was music to his ears. Emerald green cursive spelled out "Eden" and turned into a snake coiled around a deep red apple missing a single bite. Dean delighted in the sacrilegious nature of the name. Given the activities that went on behind its doors, it suited the place. The knowledge that Rowena had chosen "Eden" to be intentionally heretical brought a smile to his face; even in Catholic school, Dean had never had much respect for the bible.

He cut the line with a curt nod to the bouncer and walked through the doors into the dimly lit club. Dean felt the tension of the evening evaporate from his limbs as soon as the pervading scent of cherries and tequila washed over him. The black brick walls and tables draped in blood-red velvet made the room feel smaller than it really was. It was hardly past midnight, and yet every table was full of men, mostly suits from the business district here to pretend their sexless marriages weren't failing. Dean snorted. Sam could have his apple-pie life with Jess; at least Dean would never end up like these poor schmucks.

Out of habit, he scanned the crowd and saw a few familiar faces, but thankfully no sparkling blue eyes and no trenchcoats in sight. The brightest source of light came from the rotating floodlights on the main stage. Dean supposed that keeping everything in shadow allowed people to feel more comfortable here. After all, a strip club may be fine and well, but when the money changed hands and gentlemen were lead to back rooms by beautiful ladies, it was best that no one knew each other's names in the morning.

A young woman in her early twenties gyrated and slowly removed her clothes on the main stage to the beat of the rock music blaring through the speakers. Dean couldn't help but watch her as she moved, dark hair falling over pale skin as she thrust her hips sinfully against the stage. Dean once again found his mind wandering, and he forced himself to engage the bartender in conversation as a means of distracting himself.

"Hey there, handsome," She said to him as he sidled up to the bar. "What's your poison?"

Dean noticed the way she leaned enticingly on the bar as she spoke, shoulders back, chest out in invitation for him to stare. He let his gaze linger for a moment before returning her suggestive smirk.

"Just a water for now, darlin'," he said. He could feel the whiskey from Lee's slowly soaking into his brain, clouding his judgement.

"Aw, you're no fun," the bartender pouted, placing a glass in front of him and filling it with water from the gun attached to the bar. "What, are you some kinda teetotaler or something?"

"Nah, nothing like that," Dean chuckled. "Just had a few already and wouldn't wanna forget your pretty face."

The bartender smiled coyly and extended her hand for him to shake. "Pamela." She said.

"Dean." He replied, taking her hand delicately in his own. "Do you just mix drinks around here, or can I look forward to seeing you on the stage later?"

She laughed. "I dabble. But tonight's not my night. I get off around three though, and uh, well, if you're still around, maybe you can too." She winked at him before being called down the bar. Dean watched her walk away, the sway of her hips capturing his attention.

"Well, well, well..." Dean heard the unmistakable accent drawl from behind him. "A Winchester. Alone in my club. To what do I owe the honour?"

Rowena was a tiny woman who had come from Scotland and made quite the name for herself in America's lucrative sex industry. She ran a tight ship with her girls, who did everything from stripping to pornography to escort work, and, in the case of Ruby and a few others, the occasional special favour for the Winchesters. No man controlled Rowena or her girls, and if anyone ended up on the wrong side of the devious little redhead, they were likely to find themselves in a sealed box at the bottom of the river.

"Rowena," Dean stated simply, rotating his chair to face her as she stepped closer to him. Her red gown caught what little light the club offered and shimmered. 

"I expected I'd be getting a visit from you boys soon." She sighed heavily and waved to Pamela, who nodded and brought her a martini glass of something pink and fruity-looking. "I was hoping it would be Samuel coming to call, but I guess you'll do."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" Dean asked, sitting up straighter in his seat.

"Well, I suppose it's his well-muscled arms, his gorgeous hair, his tall, strong physique..." She mused, sipping her drink with a smirk.

"No, not that, Rowena, and ew," Dean cringed. "Why were you expecting us?

"Perhaps because of those Novak boys that Miss Talbot had Ruby go looking into." Her face darkened. "I don't know what she was thinking, but that poor girl came back beat half to death. She was a good dancer, always made a lot of money on her nights..."

"Where is she now?" Dean asked. "I wanna know what happened."

"Ah, well, we agreed it was probably for the best if Ruby took some time out of town." Rowena swirled the liquid in her glass and looked away from Dean to the stage. "I have other dancers that can fill her slot for the time being."

"Where is she?" Dean asked again, an edge to his voice that made Rowena glare.

"Not here, Winchester. And if you think for a moment that I'm so disloyal to my girls that I would tell you where she's gone, then you are sorely mistaken." She defended. Dean didn't push the issue. Her mind was made up, and there was no amount of bargaining or coercion that would change it.

"Alright, so why don't you tell me what happened then?" He directed. Rowena pursed her lips into a thin line. She was the only person Dean had ever met who could rival him and his brother for stubbornness.

Rowena sighed. "Oh, why not. The more, the merrier, I suppose." She gestured to a table next to the bar where an attractive young man stood guard, keeping the table open. She waved at Pamela for more drinks and slid into the booth's bench, touching the young man's arm gently as she did. When they were seated comfortably and had been presented with a fresh round of drinks - Pamela had ignored Dean's continued request for water and had brought him another glass of whiskey - Rowena continued. "What do you want to know?"

Dean wasted no time. "The Novaks." He said. "Who are they?"

"I can't say that I know too much, honestly." She purred. "But after the incident with Ruby, I did a little research. It would seem that the father, Chuck, had a wife years ago, Naomi, who was killed in some kind of gang war. He became obsessed with revenge and took over a good chunk of Newark, eliminating the gangs, building the communities, doing all sorts of goodwill charity work, all with funds gathered through several nefarious means." 

"What sort of means?" Dean asked again.

She sipped her drink slowly before she continued. "Standard fare. Murder for hire, arms dealing, the occasional art heist. If I had to guess, that'd be what made him target Bela in the first place. I don't know if you've noticed, but that woman can be a wee bit hard to handle. Not the type to make many friends." Dean snorted. He had no arguments there. 

"Now, Chuck and Naomi had four sons before she passed. Apparently, everyone is a bloody Catholic because they named them all after archangels, the poor boys. Chuck started sort of 'collecting' street kids who had lost their families to the gang wars. He took them in, made them a home, and built his own family, not out of associates and partners like you lot, but an actual family of brothers and sisters." She pushed her glass away and leaned forward into Dean, dropping her voice barely above a whisper. Dean had to move even closer to catch her words as the music from the club's speakers continued to fill his senses. "They are ruthless. Especially the four oldest brothers. They will fight and kill and bleed for their family, and they will smile while they're doing it. You think you and Samuel are close? You've got nothing on these boys."

Dean swallowed hard. Rowena wasn't one to exaggerate her claims. If she said the Novaks were dangerous, he had no reason not to believe her. "How much of a threat are they?" He asked bluntly.

"Well, they certainly aren't a problem you should ignore." She smirked. "But, I do have a feeling that some of that Winchester charm could come in handy." She reached out and tapped Dean lightly on the tip of his nose. 

"Thanks, Rowena," Dean said, slipping out of the booth. "And if you see or hear anything else..."

"I'll be sure to call you, quick as a whip." She said sarcastically. He nodded and headed towards the door. Pamela's earlier proposition rang in his ears, and, as much as he wished he could stay and accept, his gut was telling him to return home and relay the information from Rowena to his brother.

He staggered out into the alley again and rubbed his hands together to stave off the rapidly cooling September night. He thought about calling Benny for a ride. The Winchester bodyguard could always be relied upon to answer his phone at any hour and never say no to Dean. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and frowned. The screen displayed several missed calls from Sam and a few from his mother. He grinned widely. They were probably calling him to chastise him for not being present for Sam's proposal. 

Quickly tapping open the screen, he dialled his brother's number. It only rang once before Sam's voice came through the other end.

"Dean?"

"Hey, Sammy!" Dean beamed into the phone, staggering a little on the uneven sidewalk. "So? Did she say yes? Is my baby brother getting married?"

"Yeah, Dean, she did. Where are you?" Sam huffed into the phone.

"Out," Dean stated. "Celebrating on your behalf." 

"Are-are you drunk?" Sam stammered into the phone.

"I mean, pshhh, maybe? A bit?" Dean smiled. He was feeling great. Who cared about that pretty-eyed guy in the trenchcoat at Lee's? Dean didn't care. And he didn't care that he didn't care. "Listen, I talked to Rowena and - " Sam cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

"Jesus Christ, Dean!" Sam yelled into the phone, and Dean immediately began to lose whatever happy buzz he had gained through the night. Sam never yelled at him. "It is 2am, and I've been trying to call you for HOURS! I even called Lee's, but he said you left before midnight, and now you're wasted downtown by yourself and I just..." There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Dean could hear Sam taking deep breaths to calm down.

"Hey, hey, Sammy, listen, I'm okay." He tried desperately to soothe his brother's worries. The panic in Sam's tone had sobered him, and he transformed immediately into Big Brother. His primary focus was back on protecting his little brother, making sure he wasn't afraid. "Everything is fine. I'm not wasted, just a little buzzed. I'm gonna call Benny for a ride and head back to my place. I'll text you when I'm home and call you in the morning, okay?"

"No, Dean," Sam said weakly into the phone, "it's not okay."

Any remaining happiness Dean had from the alcohol was extinguished. His feet stopped moving, and his own voice seemed distant as he spoke. "What's wrong, Sammy? What happened?"

Sam sounded like he was speaking through a tub of water. "It's Dad. You need to get home."

Tags: @valleydean @fighterfortheforgotten

[twit-moonstar]

i fall to pieces: chapter one - roger taylor x fem!reader

N/A: Hey! This is just the first chapter of this little mini series I’ll do. I was intending on doing a big ass one shot but I can’t force myself to finish it so I decided to post what I have and see if there’s actually any interest on reading this. It’s a 80s Roger x Stripper!Reader, in case the little banner didn’t gave it away. Let me know your opinion and reblog the fic if you liked it <3

N/A2: I edited this myself, so pardon me if there’s any grammar mistake or incoherence! (Doesn’t excuse me but) English it’s not my first languaje.

Summary:  When Y/N, a dancer at the Blue Velvet stripclub mets rockstar Roger Taylor, she’s torn between mistrust and flirting shamelessly but little by little they find a way to each other’s heart.

Warnings: There’s no smut in this bc i’m not up for it but there will be a few references to sex.

Words: roughly 3K

“Bring you ass here, Laura!” exclaimed Coco and you rejected the various shots that Laura offered you before she walked to Coco with a simple gesture of your hand. Applying the deep wine lipstick carefully, you smile in different ways in the mirror to try to get into this persona you had created for the club.

Working on the club night after night was taking its toll over you, and you were in desperate need of a vacation but you wouldn’t dare to ask Mike about it. Your rent was due in a week and you still needed a few pounds to get the amount of money you needed.

Maybe I should go on that date with that guy, Tate, you think. You already know him and how his crushes tended to go for the girl he had put his eye on—The fortunate chosen one would end up with a new shiny pair of brand shoes and a gold bracelet or a diamond necklace, all of that without even sleeping with him. Of course, those who did sleep with him could get a whole lot more but that wasn’t something that you were thrilled for— and he was certainly interested in you.

You walk out of the dressing room. The club wasn’t yet at its fullest, as it was fairly early yet. The lights, however, were starting to get lowered and soon the place would be bathed in blue and red.

“Busy night, Karma?” asks the new barmaid, Matt, you think. He’s been trying to get into your pants ever since he started to work, but you never pay him any attention.

“Not yet, Matthew,” you reply, passing by without looking at him and walking straight to a group of three men drinking beer and watching to one in particular.

They seem delighted with your presence as if you had chosen them for some special reason. By the end of two songs, you’re fifty pounds richer. It’s not the most you can get, but you’re tired and at this point of the week you don’t even care.

You walk to the bar and observe the club. It wasn’t the fanciest place, but it felt cheery enough for you after all this time. Sometimes it scared you how comfortable you felt there but you had to remember why you had started to work in a place like this.

A group of men enters, laughing at some joke probably, and they stumble to one of the black velvet sofas. As a dancer of the well-known Blue Velvet strip club—or as the owner preferred to call it ‘gentleman’s club’—, it wasn’t uncommon to see band members around. The almost-naked girls were beautiful and the alcohol was the good kind if you had the money, who wouldn’t be attracted to come? So when you recognise at least two of them as Roger Taylor and John Deacon, you’re not surprised.

You walk to the pole that’s right in front of them and start dancing, without looking at them at first, just to catch their attention. Bet they’re good money, you through, lucky me.

Much to your surprise, Roger requests for a private dance, just for him. That flattered you; you wouldn’t deny it. Rockstars usually picked someone else—like Ginger, with her long legs and big ass, or Coco, who had straight blonde hair and nice tits.

Of course, you had your charms, but usually, you would give private dances for rich and boring businessmen in suits. Never someone as exciting as Queen’s drummer.

With his blonde hair, mischievous blue eyes, and delicate yet strong features, he was, by far, the most attractive man you had ever met.

Despite your nervousness, you flashed him a flirty smile that he returned as you led him to a private room. He sits down on the black leather couch while you pour him a glass of whiskey.

“You don’t drink?” He says, taking a gulp and licking his lips afterward. You shake your head no with a little smile.

“I don’t drink while working, Mr. Taylor.”

He asked you then to not call him mister, to which you replied with a smile and an amused ‘yes, sir.’

“What’s your name?”

“Karma,” you replied simply, walking to the little selection of vinyl you had to play. “Do you like Pink Floyd? Or maybe Led Zeppelin?”

You know there’s a lot of magazines that gather trivial information like what’s his favourite band, or book, and even actress, but you never bother to buy them. You’re not greatly interested in keeping up with the life of any rockstar, to be honest. You’re quite busy trying to keep up with your own life.

He cocks his head slightly to the side, thinking for a moment before ignoring your question. “Why did you pick it?”

You weren’t bothered by his curiosity, although not many had asked you about it. 

You had earned your nickname in your first week when you slapped a guy when he tried to undress you himself. Whereas some of the girls believed you would be instantly fired, the owner warned you against taking the matter into your own hands next time and let it slide, saying you had to call security next time—unless it was urgent.

To the exception of a few regular clients, who had already heard the story, men usually came to ogle over your body and not to learn anything about you.

“Because I’ll punch anyone who has it coming,” you reply.

“When is that?”

“When someone tries to piss me off trying to get way too handsy when I don’t allow it,” you say with a light and joyous tone. Oh, how you would be happy to throw a punch or two to some idiots that believed that could touch with no consequences because you were wearing little clothes. You had gained pretty much all of your patience just working here.

He took the glass to his mouth again to cover a nascent smile, but you notice the corner of his lips curving upwards. 

It made you smile as well.

Despite the more than a generous tip that Roger gave you, you didn’t think he would come back and were pleasantly surprised to see him again two weeks later.

There was a certain lustful glow on his deep blue eyes, and you would lie if you said that the prospect of having his hands all over you didn’t send a jolt of desire straight to your core.

So you decided to end your dance by sitting on his lap, giving him a proper view of your almost naked tits, and taking his hands to slide them to your ass. 

A little flirting never hurt anyone, you think.

He grinned at you. “You’re not gonna hit me, right, love?”

“Of course not, sir.”

He squeezed your ass and you grinded against him trying your best to follow the rhythm of the music.

“When does your shift end?”

You almost stop on your tracks at the question but you laugh softly instead.

“We only provide dancing services, sir. Don’t let your hands on my ass confuse you,” you replied teasingly, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. He doesn’t seem offended by the insinuation on your word’s choice but instead amused.

“I was planning on wine and dine you.”

This time you do stop moving and look at him, slowly getting out of his lap and standing in front of him. The music keeps playing, but you don’t move at all as you watch him carefully, searching for any hint of…

What were you looking exactly? Something in his eyes that gave away his true intentions, probably, since you always guided yourself by your mistrust when it came to people, especially men who were older than you.

“You did, huh?”

He’s obviously only interested in seeing what’s down the skimpy lingerie, right?

But he seems sincere, so you smile. “Fine.”

“Can I get your real name now, love? I think I deserve to know with whom I am having dinner,” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, but smiled, nonetheless.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” The way he said your name, like savouring every syllable in his tongue, made your heart give a little jump on your chest. “Nice.”

Despite Roger’s best efforts to impress you and convince you to stay a night at his place, it takes two dates more before you finally agree to do so.

It’s not that you aren’t impressed you have enjoyed very much the expensive wine and fancy restaurants, but you truly enjoy his company and there’s this feeling that if you sleep with him once you will never see him again.

Not that you can see getting involved in a romantic relationship with him, but if you can just spend time with Roger, then you would take the most advantage out of it you could. 

“Sit down, put yourself comfortable,” he says, walking into what you assume it’s the kitchen and you nod.

You observe the spacious place. The walls are painted with a warm cream colour, which doesn’t exactly match the wooden furniture, like the shelving on the corner. You’re surprised to see the great number of books and before you realise you’re standing in front of the shelving, caressing delicately a book spine.

You take one out and look at the cover. On the road by Jack Kerouac. 

“That’s one of my favourites,” Roger’s voice says on your ear and you jump a little on your spot, which makes him smile. “Have you read it?”

“No. I was about to buy it once, but I choose another,” you say, opening a random page and reading whatever it catches your attention.

«"I love love," she said, closing her eyes, and I promised her beautiful love.”»  You smiled. Would it be just a coincidence that you had read exactly that paragraph?

“What’s so funny?” he asks and you read it out loud for him. Roger looks into the nothing, his blue gaze deep in thought. 

“That’s a good chapter,” he says simply and you nod, without knowing what to say. 

Had been reading something like that a too-bold of a movement? You didn’t expect anything from him, you couldn’t have the luxury to fantasize about him. A few dates can’t mean anything, do they?There’s a strange shift in the air, and you hate it. Ten minutes ago you were laughing and whispering silly things on the corridor while trying to open the flat’s door.

“Do you have something to drink?” you say softly.

“You can keep the book if you want,” Roger said and you looked at the book on your hands. It’s in good condition, which means it’s either new or he hasn’t read it that many times, but he said it’s his favourite and you feel a little bad thinking about taking it.

 “Oh, no, that’s fine. I couldn’t,” you say, shaking your head and leaving the book on its place.

“If you don’t want to keep it, you can borrow it.”

“I’ll think about it. Now, what about that drink, uh?”

“Yeah, yeah. You like white wine?”

“Actually, do you have something without alcohol?” you ask, sheepishly, and he nods. 

“Of course. You like Cola?”

You both sit down on the couch, facing each other, and drinking.“Y’know, we have been in three dates but I don’t think I know much about you,” he says and you bit your lower lip softly, which only brings his attention to your lips. He’s making conversation before fucking or is interested in knowing you? Men usually weren’t interested in hearing whatever you had to say, it was the sad truth and you had already gotten used to it. 

“Nothing worth of telling you, to be honest,” you shrug, taking a sip of your drink. 

“That’s a load of crap, and I don’t buy it,” he replies and you smile, before leaving the glass on the little coffee table. Getting closer to him, you finally connected your lips to his. It tastes of wine and the cigarette that he had been smoking earlier while driving.

“Let’s go to your bedroom,” you whisper before deepening the kiss. He pulls apart, getting up and taking your hand to lead the way. Chit chat can come later if he still wants to be around after fucking. 

You’re the first to wake up the next morning so you try to be as quiet as possible as you roll out of bed and go to the toilet to refresh yourself a little. You wash your face, trying to get rid of the eyeshadow under your eye as much as possible, and after you’re satisfied you tie your hair on a loose ponytail. 

You’re already dressed, so all you need to do is get your bag and coat, write him a note or say goodbye if he’s awake and leaves. You open the toilet door and go to the living. Just as you’re putting on your coat, Roger gets out of the kitchen with a water bottle on his hand and smiles at you like he’s thinking gotcha.

“Stay for breakfast?”

“I got things to do,” you lie quickly. Roger raises an eyebrow, probably questioning your answer. 

You’re one to value honesty but right now, you can’t bring yourself to spend more time with him. He’ll start to ask questions and that’s the last thing you want, as much as you like his company.

“Really? I’m starting to think you’re just using me for sex,” he says, with mocking hurt and you try not to smile. 

“That’s a low blow,” you accuse.“What you got?”

“Coffee, toast and pop tarts,” he recites with closed eyes like he’s mentally looking through his cupboard. 

You think he probably doesn’t have a lot of food right now since it’s the last days of the months. You wondered if someone did shopping for him and when was the last time he did? Did he ever do that? Was he able to do it now, being famous and all? 

“What flavour?” 

“Strawberry?”

“I want two,” you demand. Roger just nods with a smile. 

You walk inside the kitchen and sit on a stool by the breakfast bar and observe Roger preparing breakfast. He’s wearing a white shirt and black sweatpants; his hair is dishevelled but it gives him certain charm.

“You slept well?” Roger asks, placing your coffee in front of you. 

“Yeah, I think I can confidently say your bed is the most comfortable I’ve slept in.”

“You’re welcomed in again whenever you please,” he winks, taking a sip of his tea.

“Shut up,” you reply, taking a bit of your pop tart but you’re smiling.

“I’m serious, though, I’d love to repeat that. Dinner included, of course.”

“We’ll see,” you just say.

A long beat happens before you speak again. “Why are you so interested in me?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” he says, sipping on his cup.

You sigh. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t, I’m just saying it’s strange.”

He raises an eyebrow, and his blue eyes are inquisitive, looking at your face like he could find on your eyes the answer to your constant changes between being apprehensive and flirting shamelessly. “Why?”

“Because I- I thought men like you wouldn’t be interested in someone like me?”

“Someone like you?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I think I can be interesting and, maybe, a good company but you could be with anyone you want,” you state like it’s obvious like it’s the kind of thing every man with a highly successful career thinks.

“And I want to spend my time with you, guess it’s because you’re good company,” he states, matter of factly but your expression must give away that you’re not so convinced so he takes one of your hands and interlocks your fingers.

“Look, I like you and as long as you’re willing to entertain my interest on you, I’m gonna keep asking you out.”He looks at your hands for a second before looking up to see you smiling down at him.

“Fine. I like you too, you know?”

“I know,” he replies with a cheeky smile.

“But I gotta go,” you say and he lets go of your hand. 

“Can I pass to the toilet?“

“Go ahead, you know where it is.”

After you’re done, you get out of the toilet to put your coat on and get your purse. However, you’re not exactly sure of how to say goodbye, so you stand awkwardly in front of him, close by the door.

“C’mere,” he chuckles, softly pushing you flush against him and cradling your face to kiss your lips with delicately.

“See ya soon, love.” He opens the door and you step outside on the corridor.

“Goodbye, Rog. Thanks for yesterday, I enjoyed it very much,” you smile.

He grins. “Well, of course ya did.”

“Don’t get too cocky now, Taylor, you lean towards him, your mouth close to his ear. “It wasn’t me begging last night, after all,” you whisper and kiss his cheek quickly, like fearing being seen, and start walking to the elevator.

He watches you with a smile until the elevator door closes.

[gothamsnightmare]

Imagine...

… The Riddler trying to woo you into being his new partner in crime

Pairing: Edward Nygma/The Riddler x female reader

Warnings: A little bid of bloodshed and murder, nothing to serious

Word Count: 1.829

You had just spend the last few weeks doing a job for Oswald with the help of The Riddler. You both had skill sets that he needed, and he had insisted that you were one of the few people left in Gotham aside from Ed that he deemed trustworthy enough. Knowing Ed’s reputation and his particular way of doing things, you first weren’t particularly keen on working with him, but Oswald was paying you well enough and you knew helping him now would definitely come in handy in the future. But then, to your surprise, Ed and you worked fantastically well together. He was no doubt a brilliant planner, and he continuously played to your strengths, gave you free range in doing things your way when you didn’t feel you could pull it off his way, took a lot of your suggestions, and despite the constant riddling, you actually had a lot of fun.

But now you were off on your own again, and despite enjoying yourself hugely the last couple of weeks, you were glad you were back to it just being you. You had spend the last few hours terrorizing the streets of Gotham, robbing a few places and killing the odd random people here and there, something you didn’t really get to do lately. Now you were currently in the process of cornering some low-life thug in an empty alleyway, a man that had just been trying to get smart with you after he’d seen you rob and murder a lot of people in a bank. He had been threatening to turn you in, and seemed to think by doing so he’d gain the favor of people wanting to get back at Oswald.

You had chased him down a couple of streets, away from the direction you knew the cops were going to arrive from, and now he was lying on the ground begging for his life, after you had pulled him down roughly from a fire escape he had been trying to climb to get away from you. „Ah, Hank…“ You said, while aiming your gun at his face with your left. „I know you’re not the brightest Gotham’s underworld has to offer, but did you actually really think you could tell on me?“ - „Alright, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I was just trying to get back at Mr. Cobblepot, I swear, it’s nothing personal, please don’t shoot me!“ He was sobbing, covering his face with his arms. This made you let out a very amused chuckle. „Ooooh, I’m not gonna shoot you!“ You said, actually lowering your gun. Hank let out a sigh of relief and took down his arms. But then, in a flash, you pulled out your ankle knife with your right and drew it across his throat. „… I’m going to slash you.“ You stated matter-of-factly after he dropped dead, then throwing your bloody knife into the air and catching it again with ease. 

The sound of loud, appreciative clapping coming from behind you made you turn around in confusion. „Fantastic! Mmmmarvelous execution! Threatening him while holding the gun in your left hand, when you’re clearly right handed… You really excellently had him fooled!“ Ed was showering you with praise, walking down the alleyway towards you in his trade-mark green suit and bowler hat. „What the hell are you doing here?“ You hadn’t actually realized you hadn’t been alone down in that alley. „Oh, I’ve been following your latest crime spree.“ Ed came to a stop in front of you and conversationally leaned against the wall, sounding like the two of you had just met up for coffee somewhere. „You have?“ You were taken aback. Usually not one to miss these things, you were shocked to find out someone had been keeping an eye on you this whole time. „Well, I heard about those robberies down in the Narrows, and I just knnnew it was you (he was poking at you with his finger), so, I decided to come and see what you were up to.“ He finished, still acting like you were just two friends catching up. „You did?“ -  „Mhm!“ He nodded, smiling at you very brightly now. „Why?“ You asked suspiciously, while starting to pull back a little from him. You knew about Ed’s stalker-ish nature, and with the way he was looking at you, like you were the most fascinating, inspirational female criminal he had ever seen, you were starting to wonder if he had become obsessed with you while you guys were working for Oswald.

„Because (Ed was moving away from the wall) you’re brilliant (he was pointing at you with two fingers) and I’m brilliant (he was pointing at himself now), so I thought: why not do things together all the time?“ He said while waving his arms all over the place in classic Riddler-fashion, then leaning back against the wall. „You wanna… work with me? But I’m nothing like you!“ You found this a very odd way to ask someone to be their partner in crime. „Opposites can balance each other out.“ Ed claimed. „Besides, you’re blood-thirsty (he pointed out the fact that you were still holding both a gun and a knife in your hands), and unpredictable, and that makes you very intimidating to people, and I could use someone around me who can scare people off.“ He explained.  „So… what, you want me to be your bodyguard?“ You were absolutely not fond of that idea at all, you didn’t want to be reduced down to being someone else’s permanent muscle.

„No! No, no, no, no, no, no!“ Ed quickly said while moving off the wall again, starting to wave around his hands anew. „I’m asking you… to be my equal.“ He gave you another bright grin, but you were still not convinced. „Ed - I work alone.“ You reminded him. „I know.“ He acknowledged. „And, no offense, but you don’t have the best track record when it comes to women!“ It felt necessary for you to point this out. „That was different.“ Ed disagreed with you, leaning back against the wall again. „How was that different?“ You were still convinced you couldn’t rule out the fact that Ed was only here because he had developed a crush on you. „I don’t see you in a romantic way.“ Ed wasted no time in clearing this up for you. Unbeknownst to you, he had already become very much aware that this was what you were afraid of a few minutes into your conversation. „Never have, never will. You’re not my type.“ He quickly added. „Oh.“ You were relieved to hear this. „Well, good.“

„So you’ll agree to be my partner?“ Ed just wouldn’t let up. You sighed. „Look, Ed…“ - „The Riddler.“ He interrupted you. You let out a little laugh at this. You had noticed during your time working for Oswald how particular he was about this, which you found a little ridiculous. „Right. Whatever.“ You said, and, to your surprise, Ed didn’t actually seem to be offended at your refusal to address him by his chosen crime name. „I’m… flattered, really, I liked working with you.“ He seemed very happy to hear this. „But…“ you were moving a strand of hair out of your face with the bloody hand holding your knife, trying to find the right words without offending him. „I’m… just… not sure this is how I wanna do things.“ You apologized. „You sure?“ Ed said, moving off the wall yet a third time. „I think we could be great together. The Riddler and (y/n)! (he moved his hands as though presenting an invisible headline)… come on, no one would see that coming!“ He was definitely right about that one. „What do you say?“ Ed was starting to sound excited. You still weren’t really sure whether you should agree, you were just really set in your ways by now. But seeing Ed look at you so very eagerly, you couldn’t help feeling the odd rush of excitement return that you felt while working with him a few weeks ago.

„… ok, let’s give this a shot for a few weeks.“ You finally found yourself saying. „YES!! Oh, you won’t regret this!“ Ed actually did a little joyful jump. This made you laugh again „I’m kind of already.“ You said, but with a smile. „No, come on, this will be great.“ Ed assured you. „Hey: What has no hands, but might knock on your door, and you better open up if it does?“ - „An opportunity.“ You answered, without even having to think about it. „Correct!“ Ed said with a satisfied smile. „You know, as fun as it is standing in this alleyway, I think it’s about time we leave before the cops catch up with you after all.“ He indicated for you to follow him. „Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.“ You said, finally putting away your knife and gun, then wiping some blood off your cheek with your right hand, and, when you inadvertently looked at it and realized just how much blood you had just wiped off with it, you went „I should probably clean up too!“ You were looking down at yourself now, only just realizing how blood-soaked your clothes had gotten throughout this day. „Might not be a bad idea.“ Ed agreed. He seemed to find it amusing that you hadn’t even been aware of your appearance. „If you want, you can clean up at my place, it’s closer.“ You considered this a few moments, but in light of what you had just agreed to, it seemed impolite to turn down his offer. „…ok sure.“

„Oh, by the way,“ he began, as you two now started walking out of the alley together. „I took the liberty to short out the security cameras when you entered that bank, nobody will know that was you.“ - „Wow, thanks Ed!“ You were surprised, and impressed that he’d managed to do that so quickly. You hadn’t actually been planning on robbing the bank, it had been a spur-of-the-moment-type impulse of yours. „And I took out the 3 store clerks you left alive in the Narrows, and those patrons at the bar down town.“ Ed continued. „You did?“ You stopped walking now. Had he been cleaning up after you this whole time? Ed stopped as well and turned around to you „Partners gotta have each others backs, right?“ Your face was starting to light up while you were looking at him. „... right!“ As much as you usually didn’t mind getting caught during your crimes (you loved having a destructive reputation), you actually found yourself appreciating this. „So, what do you say?“ Ed offered you up his arm. „Wanna start planning a few crimes?“ This made you smile. „I’d love to.“ You said, taking his arm. Ed gave you another satisfied smile, then turned to lead you out the alleyway while adjusting his hat.

[ladyartemisia28]

Say Amen (Saturday Night)Chapter 4

Pairings: Prinxiety, side Logicality, Platonic Moxiety, Platonic/Family Logince.

Warnings: Cursing?

Words:4179

Summary: Sanders Sides Human College AU

Chapter 4- Nine in the Afternoon

~

Author’s Note- Very advised to get a hold of the song Welcome to the Black Parade- by My Chemical Romance.

~

After they finished gathering their things, Roman led Virgil out to the parking lot.

He slowly shuffled his feet as he caught up to Roman who walked up to open the trunk of a very nice red car. The symbol on the front of the car was a large L.

Virgil raised his eyes up from the ground to look at the vehicle with wide eyes.

“This is your car?” he roughly tossed his bag in the back set

“Yeah, I was hoping for a Lamborghini.” Roman joked with a wink as gently placed his bag in the trunk.

Virgil attempted silence small bitter voice in his head.

“When I was 14 and my cousin, Adora, got her Quiñceanera. She chose me to be her chambelán de honor or chosen escort. I was SOOOOOO JEALOUS!” He dramatically flourished with his hands as he grabbed the trunk lid and closed it shut. “So to bribe me my parents told me that they'd get me a car a year early.”

“Sorry but I have to ask, but I...I'm not sure what it is?” Virgil asked

“Oh uh, sorry” Roman apologized with a smile.

Virgil hummed as a response.

“It's the big birthday that Cis Latina girls get when they turn into 'women'. Silly and patriarchal, I know!” Roman added with a open palms gesture when he saw the eyebrow raise that Virgil gave. “But it was so fun, so fancy and beautiful!”

Roman pushed the key fob to unlock the car and they got themselves settled in.

“It's fucked up that other genders don't get anything like that.”

“Yeah I even stole the catalogue that she picked her dress out of. I cut out my favourites and glued my face on them. Put them all up and down my mirror.” Roman said with a proud smile remembering the happy memories.

Images of Roman in slinky cocktail dresses rushed into Virgil's mind. His face dropped to a small frown as he struggled to stop that particular train of thought.

Roman was unsure if he had said something that upset Virgil to make him clam up again.

"Uh you can pick the music if you'd like?” Roman offered as a break in the sudden silence. “CD's are in the middle.”

He waited for Virgil to buckle himself in before he pulled his car out of the parking lot. Virgil went through all the preset radio stations before opening the middle console.

“CD's? I would have thought that you would have your car set up with Spotify or Pandora or something like that?” he said as he opened opened the console and looked through the collection

“Eh, CD's are great. No commercials for long car trips. ”

All of the Cds were for musicals, a few that he had heard of like Phantom of the Opera, Wicked, and Guys and Dolls. And some that Virgil didn't know, Dear Evan Hanson, Six the Musical, and...Legally Blonde? He did not know that that was a musical.

Then he spotted one that Roman had mentioned.

“Um, any suggestions from Heathers? You said that I might like this the 7/11 song?”  

“I usually go through the whole thing in order....but I suggest for you, Track number 4.”

“Could I get some context?” Virgil asked as he pressed the button for the track number.

“The uh, 7/11 scene in the movie...But in song.” Roman offered with a bit of a smug smile.

“I probably should have guessed that.” he admitted with a grumble.

Virgil closed his eyes as he listened to the song and imagined the scene in his head.

Just like in the Heathers movie JD was recounting to Veronica how he travelled all over the place because of his father. And because of that he didn't feel like he was able to connect to the people and places. No place felt like home, except for 7/11.

It was always a weird scene in Virgil's opinion. Like JD is just opening up to this person he just met and telling her his very strong feelings about a convenience store and Slushies.

Even though it was strange Virgil had to admit, it was a good song. Parts of the song were a little to close to home, like “When the voice in your head says you're better off dead”.

“So what do you think? ”

“Yeah I get it. Its good.”

“That's all?”  Roman asked exasperatedly

“I guess I was expecting something different???”

“Like what?”

“I just thought that JD was going to be a little more intense. Like crazy sounding or something?”

“Ah what YOU are searching for is 'Meant to Be Yours' number 17.”

He pressed the button until he reached the number and sat back in his seat to listen.

~

“So is that was you were expecting?” Roman asked as they exited the car after arriving at the store.

“Yeah, it was” Virgil smiled “Real Intense.”

The pair stopped after they reached to threshold to get their bearings.

“I get so lost in here.” Roman complained with a slight whine to his voice. “I don't usually do the grocery shopping.

Before Virgil could comment Roman continued.

“Lo likes to go to make sure that the budget is kept tight, but he's been so busy with his job. He just got his a new taker for his math tutoring.”

“So Logan's your brother?” Virgil

“My brother, well Step brother. My Mama married his Papa. When I was old enough to remember that I was getting a new family, but young enough that it's no longer weird.” Roman offered a little bit more information than necessary.

Roman briefly considered mentioning that he was at the party and Virgil had briefly seen him, but he didn't want to bring up the previous night.

At lest he didn't want to bring it up first.

They were getting along so well that he didn't want to make Virgil uncomfortable.

“Really, I grew up with him so he is my brother. Soooooo do you have any siblings?” Roman began to play with the sleeves of his jacket as he attempted a more personal question.

“Uh yeah, a older sister” he muttered.

“And her name is...?”

“Melantha,” he responded with little inflection “she prefers to be called Missy.”

“Melantha?! WOW, huh! Did your parents just grab a baby name book and open a page at random for ALL their kids!” Roman teased with a mocking laugh as they arrived at the Dairy and Juice section.  

“Yeah haha, Virgil's got a weird name. I've NEVER heard that before.” Virgil rolled his eyes as his tone changed from frosty to salty. “You know Roman isn't really the most common name either.”

“I am far from COMMON! Besides I wasn't saying your name was BAD! It is 'strange and usual like you'.” Roman winked as he tried to steer their conversation back to more friendly waters.

“Quoting Beetljuice at me? You'll have to do better than that.” Virgil grinned in spite of himself as he grabbed a six pack of orange drink and placed it in the cart.

“Come on you gotta give a guy some credit for remembering what your interests are right?”

“Yeah I guess” he said with a reluctantly happier tone.

“Hey do you see the Almond Milk?” Roman asked after he finished his scan bottles and cartons.

“Uh no, I think that might be over in the Organic or like Vegan section. Why does your brother have you on a specialized diet as well as his, what was it? His extremist water agenda? What does that even mean?” Virgil chuckled as he took the cart from Roman and led him toward the other end of the store.

“It's just what I call his super weird thing about getting enough water everyday. And yeah he does keep our kitchen stocked with a lot of green veggies. Also he checks to sure I kept up a sleep schedule”

Virgil's eyebrows rose in surprise at hearing all things.

“Yikes, he sounds like a bit of a control freak...”

“Yeah he is sometimes. Like I have hide my Butterfinger stash from him.” Roman complained. “He's not as bad I make him sound...NEVER tell him I told you that.”  

Roman went over to the shelf and looked over the choices, Soy, Almond, Lactose- Free lined the shelves.

“Oh and to answer why the special milk, I'm THINKING of starting the Paleo diet right now. My brother has no influence on this though, just want to try and see what works. I might try Keto if this one doesn't work for me.

“ah right.” Virgil nodded eyes slightly widened hoping that the look on his face didn't betrayal the fact that he did NOT know what the heck a Paleo or a Keto diet meant.

~

Virgil felt heard a chime from his pocket so he pulled out his phone.

“Hey I'm going to get this.” he shook his phone up to show Roman before he stepped away from the cold of the meat section.

Roman nodded in return as he turned to look at the selection of skinless chicken.

Virgil got a message from Green_Tea_Gay on his Instagram account, Anxious_On_Main.

'Hey so that “Study Partner” is a hot piece!'

'Remy do you have a point' Virgil replied

'Gurl do you know? have you seen his pics? HOW is he Single!!'

After the three little dots disappeared in their place were several pictures

His face reddened as he looked at the pictures of the previously mentioned selfies. Roman wearing tight jeans in front of a mirror with his backside captured on the camera. Another with him laying on his stomach caught at an angle getting his short clad behind in shot.

He quickly glanced over to Roman, who was still distracted.

He looked back at him phone and quickly texted back.

'Don't send me those!'

'They are posted to the public! I didn't hack his phone'

'I don't care, no more pics of his butt'

'K'

Just about the time he was going to put his phone back into his pocket another chime stopped him.

The next series of pictures were of Roman exercising posing with a dumbbell doing a curl, stretching, and other gym activities,  

And the last was Roman in swimwear that exposed more skin than he thought was allowed outside of certain websites.

His body felt instant heat and he looked and took a few calming breaths before returning to message Remy.

'I said no more pics!'

'Sis you told me no pics of his ass'

'DO NOT SEND PICTURES OF ROMAN SANDERSON!'

'Easy there Baby! No need to get your knickers in a twist. I'm just trying to help. Look at what you will be missing if you don't Snatch. That. Up!'

'What the hell Rem! We are NOT getting together! He is not into me.'

'Nah sweetie, you should have been paying more attention. That is totally a smitten kitten'

'You are the worst'

'No I am literally the best and you two are soooo getting together. Don't worry I know I made my point.'

'You asshole'

'Enjoy the pictures ;)'

~

Roman noticed that after he returned from his handling of his phone business Virgil had gotten quiet again and seemed to shift his gaze away from Roman.

'Did I spent too much time with the chicken?'

They walked down to the breakfast aisle.

As Virgil picked up some a box of Count Chocula cereal Roman slowed the cart to a stop behind him.

“You can only get this one around this time of year” he looked at it with a fondness that made Roman's stomach flip.

“So what are you planning on making?” Roman asked as he leaned his arms on the handle bar of the cart.

“Making? Uh, nothing, just like a bowl of cereal.... like with milk...from a cow” Virgil tilted his head to one side.

Confusion on his face as he held up the box and gave it a shake.

Roman could feel heat creep over his face, he was very caught off guard by the unexpected softness on Virgil's face.

'Shit!...now he thinks I'm an idiot who doesn't know how to eat cereal!'

~

Virgil turned around and did not see Roman's flushed face as he hide his own.

Basic cereal... I guess I could be making something with it like a cereal bar or something? A cake? Maybe? It isnt very impressive...and it's probably not on the platleo diet or whatever it was...

They stood in awkward silence until Virgil turned back around.

“I guess that cereal isn't something that YOU would be eating.” he looked at the cart. “From what I see here, you eat like you are going to be in the next Avengers movie or something.”

“Thanks, I mean I try.” Roman said with his eyes downwards as his body did an uncharacteristic shy sway.

“Yeah, I gues if you workout half as much as you take all those pictures, you could get away with more than the occasional  Butterfinger.” Virgil's eyes widened as he realized what he had said.

'.. shut up! shut up! shut up!'

Roman's head snapped up to look at Virgil.

“You've seen my gyms pictures?” Roman asked in a whisper.

“Ah Yeah that's like all over your Instagram page,” he attempted to sound super casual

He did not sound casual.

Like at all

They felt a charged moment between them and the longer it went on the longer they were unsure of who was going to break the silence.

Roman took it upon himself to interrupt the quiet as he tool the box of chocolate cereal in hand.

“I like the marshmallow bats.” he said with sheepish smile.

~

When they returned to the car they loaded Roman's groceries into the trunk and Virgil's bags into the back seat. Then they got themselves settled in their seats.

“SO where am I uh dropping you off?” Roman asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.

“I live in the dorms," Virgil asked as he started his usual habit of checking all the radio stations. “You don't?”

He found a song that he seemed to like on one of stations, Roman recognized it as a song by Imagine Dragons.

“I live in a apartment a little bit away from the college, with Logan.”

“Um, I live in the north dorms.” Virgil said as he a small bit of nervousness as took his thumbnail between his teeth. “With Patton, my best friend.”

After that song ended, a G piano note began the next song. Roman vaguely recognized it from somewhere he couldn't place. He figured when it got to the singing part he would be able to identify it.

~

Virgil tensed out of both excitement and fear.

He was about to embarrassed himself in front of Roman.  At lest Roman was driving so he wouldn't be stared at. So he took a breath and let himself focus on the lyrics.  

“When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city” Virgil sang out beautifully. “To see a marching band”

Roman's jaw dropped and his breath stilled. He felt like he was going to swoon.

He was so very grateful that they were at a red stoplight.

“He said, son, when you grow up Would you be the saviour of the broken The beaten, and the damned? He said, will you defeat them Your demons and all the non-believers?”

Virgil sang with closed eyes losing himself in the song. While Roman's heart thumped hard in his chest and he felt an assortment of warring emotions.

“The plans that they have made? Because one day I'll leave you A phantom to lead you in the summer To join the black parade”

As the song picked up in tempo Roman realized where he had heard this song before. He remembered that he had a few friends who were into My Chemical Romance, it was 'Welcome to the Black Parade'.

“When I was a young boy My father took me into the city To see a marching band He said, son, when you grow up Will you be the savior of the broken The beaten, and the damned?”

Virgil continued a little more intensely. As the song got more upbeat Roman joined Virgil in singing and continued his drive toward the dorm.  

“Sometimes I get the feeling She's watching over me And other times I feel like I should go”

Virgil eyes popped wide open and he smiled.

“And through it all The rise and fall The bodies in the streets And when you're gone, we want you all to know

We'll carry on, we'll carry on And though you're dead and gone, believe me Your memory will carry on We'll carry on And in my heart I can't contain it The anthem won't explain it”

As Roman turned a corner they continued to sing together

“A world that sends you reeling From decimated dreams Your misery and hate will kill us all So paint it black And take it back Let's shout it loud and clear Defiant to the end We hear the call”

Roman followed the music with dramatic hand gestures as he continued driving with his left hand. Even Virgil joined in with less dramatic the hand motions.  

“To carry on We'll carry on And though you're dead and gone, believe me Your memory will carry on We'll carry on And though you're broken and defeated Your weary widow marches”

Virgil sang with a full grinning face, his relief at Roman joining him in singing the song had caused him to relax and he was able to sing louder with more feeling.

“On and on, we carry through the fears (Oh, oh, oh) Disappointed faces of your peers (Oh, oh, oh)”  

Take a look at me 'Cause I could not care at all”

Roman held onto the note at the end for a bit. Virgil continued on with the lyrics

Do or die, you'll never make me Because the world will never take my heart Go and try, you'll never break me We want it all, we wanna play this part I won't explain or say I'm sorry I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar Give a cheer for all the broken Listen here, because it's who we are I'm just a man, I'm not a hero Just a boy, who had to sing this song I'm just a man, I'm not a hero I don't care

They arrived at the dorms parking lot and Roman parked.

We'll carry on We'll carry on And though you're dead and gone believe me Your memory will carry on You'll carry on

And though you're broken and defeated Your weary widow marches on

Roman contuined his singing the longer held notes as they song concluded.

Do or die, you'll never make me Because the world will never take my heart Go and try, you'll never break me We want it all, we wanna play this part (We'll carry on) Do or die, you'll never make me (We'll carry on) Because the world will never take my heart (We'll carry on) Go and try, you'll never break me (We'll carry) We want it all, we wanna play this part (We'll carry on)

“We'll carry on!”

They both sang as the song ended to the sounds of drums.

At the conclusion of the song both Virgil and Roman were out of breath and grinning.

~

Roman felt his heart race.

He had thought that he had experienced maximum attraction that morning toward Virgil. But he was very wrong.

'Damnit Virgil why does your voice have to sound like sexy melted chocolate!'

He fought every instinct to just lean over and initiate a vehicular makeout session.        

Roman caught a brief glimpse of Virgil's eyes peak out from underneath his bangs and he gave him a very full smile.

~

Virgil nervously took a glance at Roman from underneath his dark hair.

Roman had the brightest and most authentic smile that Virgil thought he ever saw on his face.

It wasn't like Virgil thought that Roman faked his other smiles, the feelings of joy and friendliness were not false. But it seemed a lot of the other smiles that Roman gave seemed too perfect, Virgil guessed he practised his expressions in front of a mirror.      

This smile was of shear amazement, it was pointed in Virgil's direction. Like he could not believe what he heard, it caused Virgil to feel an annoying sensation in his chest.

“I didn't know you could sing” Roman spoke softly breaking the silence.

~

“Uh sure I guess I can sing a tune here or there.” Virgil shrugged with a dismissive sigh.

“I think its more than that!” Roman attempted to offer him a very sincere compliment.

“Yeah I'm not about to sell out stadiums anytime.” Virgil chuckled at the thought.

'I wish you were in a band. I'd buy all your albums. Be front row in your concerts, I'd....shit I can't tell him any of this!'

“So My Chemical Romance huh?” Roman said with a wide smirk.

“What about it?!”

“They are like the most cliché Emo band ever.” Roman snickered.

“Ah cliche? Really YOU want to go there do you?!” Virgil said

“Whatever do you mean by that?” Roman asked with a raised eyebrow.

“For a theatre kid you would think you'd dress a bit more stylish or something?” Virgil attempted to say with an indifferent air.

“What like take the costume from Hot Mikado out around the quad?”

“Absolute no clue what that is.” Virgil laughed as he exited the vehicle.

“It's....never mind that. I have only dressed subtly to spare those around me. ” Roman responded as he walked to back of the car. “How would anyone be able to concentrate on their schooling if I were to show up in full regalia?!”

“Full Regalia, huh, you sure think highly of yourself don't you? I'm not sure you should be bragging quite so much.”

“Is that a formal challenge?” Roman felt his racing heart in his chest in the midst of their back and forth.

“Not sure how impressive you'll actually be, but I'll keep an open mind, I guess.” Virgil shrugged with a small smirk as he began to take out the bags.

'I'll show him'

Roman noticed a few heavier bags that he could chivalrously offer to help him with.

“I can help you carry some of your groceries to your dorm?”

“Ah you just want an excuse to come to my room.” Virgil teased in a deep low voice  as he waited for Roman to banter back.

“YES YOU BET I DO!!!!....play it cool, Roman play it cool!'

“N...no...! I uh... as a gentleman I ... have to help anyone I see that is in need...” Roman sputtered out before he took ahold of small package of bagels “You ...you have... you have to carry..lots there.”

~

Virgil read his flustering as a rejection of his flirtation.

“No thanks! I got it! ” he quickly and loudly shouted in a panic as he took the bag out of Roman's hands.

Virgil thought that he and Roman had just shared a moment together.

'You just were imaging it! You shouldn't have believed Remy, you complete moron! ' He sling his messenger bag over his shoulder.

Then he draped the loops of the several other bags onto each elbow crook. And then took another bag into his left hand.

As he struggled to stuff the bagel bag into an already full bag, Roman again attempted to offer help.

“It's not a problem!” Roman gestured to the bagels.

“NO! I got it” Virgil just wanted to disappear as quickly as he could. He then placed the plastic of the bag in between his teeth.

“Cee Ou ENESAH.” Virgil shouted through clenched teeth as he retreated.

“Uh yeah.” Roman spoke to an empty damp parking lot. “see you”

~

Author's Note

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE SO SORRY for the long wait!

The long pause was due to new job and lack of constant access to a working computer.

I think I will still have a job later after the situation clears, but I am unsure....

I

ANYWAYS!

What do people think of me backtracking and converting all of the mentions of DEE to JAE? It won't be too much trouble as he has not even appeared yet.

~

Taglist: (PS YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING!)

@tatesinclairr

@love-is-the-fear-of-loss

@misslilidelaney

@ishoulddyemyhairthatcolour

@dwbh888

@violetshovel

@sadgayisme​

[carebooks]

alright i watched the whole third season of House of Anubis

I first have to say how much I enjoyed the leads: Eddie and KT. They have such a good chemistry and they’re honestly hilarious together. As I mentioned before, I did ship them together when I was younger and first watched the show but with watching it again, I would keep them as friends. Best friends. (especially since KT is hella gay I don’t care what anyone says) They totally give me Cloak and Dagger vibes, especially in terms of partnership. At the start of the show, they were alone, they had no one to confide in, no one to be with, Eddie was torn about letting Sibuna know about Nina, still not over Patricia. KT just lost her grandfather and came to England on a quest with some key and vague warnings, she was hella confused but still did so out of loyalty to her grandfather (this baby is too precious and good for this world, i swear). And next thing you know, fate and Osirian visions bring them together. They form a partnership, they snoop around the Gatehouse, they form a bond. And I love it so much. What I love especially, is that at the end, when the sinners are everywhere and even the Sibuna members are taken as sinners, it’s down to Eddie and KT, just like the beginning. Sure, they get help from Willow and Harriet, but they lose Willow pretty quickly, and right at the end, Harriet sacrifices herself so they can get the other key and lock away the evil for good. And together, Eddie and KT join the keys and lock the evil as one. They started together, and they ended it together, and I think that was really poetic. I know that the Osirian and the Chosen One are meant to be the pair and the Ying & Yang, but in this particular case, Eddie and KT were a bond formed by friendship and hardship rather than destinies planned or written in the stars by the gods, yes fate brought them together, but only because they knew they could only accomplish their tasks with each other. I especially loved when they took down Ammut, and Robert tried a last ditch attempt to get KT to feel guilty over doing this, telling her that he would die if Ammut was locked away. It brings in KT’s loyalty to her family, even when it’s bad, but then Eddie yells during the commotion, “Don’t trust him, trust me!” And I think it really brings a full circle what a great partnership and bond they have.

Other than that, it’s really just random stuff I liked

i liked that Willow could sense bad vibes that Robert had whenever he was around Anubis House, as well as sensing the bad vibes that sinner!Victor and sinner!Patricia gave off. I kinda wished they could’ve looked more into that. Like she was naturally sensitive to these things or something.

Her relationship with Alfie was a nice touch, seeing him with someone who liked the same things that he did was real cute. Especially seeing them happy.

Victor and Sweet playing that card game gave me life.

Joy’s new attitude and look were certainly appreciated

While I preferred the Jerome that developed in S2 and won Mara over (especially over the course of the first season and second, i mean talk about a slow burn done right) and rather he didn’t cheat on her and Willow, the Joy+Jerome ship wasn’t terrible. I much prefer the developed S2 Jerome, I’ve said this twice now, but again, it wasn’t terrible. (but real talk? KT and Joy should’ve happened)

Amber being the one to bring Sibuna and the pair Eddie & KT together because *Amber Millington voice* “Hello people! Isn’t it obvious? Work together.”

Like that girl knew what was up. Well, she did invent Sibuna, not surprised.

Alfie was perfection this season, leave him be. Also, highlights of him:

“Crypts are for dead people!” “I’m afraid of everything.” “Guys, go! Get out of here! Sibuna! SIBUNNAAA!!”

I already talked plenty of Eddie and KT being the best, so yeah. But imma do it again anyway.

I have a theory that Eddie focused his primary Osirian instinct of being protective over the Chosen One to being protective over KT. Like he reffocused his powers to someone else for the time being. Nina wasn’t there, and when KT showed up in his vision it was almost like the house was telling him “You need to help her now. Keep her safe.” And I really like that.

It was especially shone a lot through out the season, and the last episodes too. 

When sinner!Patricia and sinner!Fabian had KT and wanted to exchange an artifact that Eddie had discovered, she told him to run and get away, like they did when Alfie told them to leave him behind. And he says, “That was Alfie, this is you.”

And when Eddie, KT, Willow and Harriet went to get the sun key from Caroline, and she managed to take KT and Willow and turn them into sinners, Eddie says, “Not KT,” very worriedly. Later on he’s hard on himself, “I can’t believe they got to KT.”

It was interesting that half the season was awakening the man in the tank and the other half was releasing evil into the world. Like a different feel for half the season, not many shows do that.

I kinda despise the fact that the things I didn’t like are probably going to be longer.

Let’s go paragraph first so, how about that plot? First off, the whole thing is very weird for Sibuna. The first two seasons were about riddles and thinking things through. They were real mysteries. In this, it was more direct, they had an obvious problem, they had to stop the bad guys from waking up a bad guy, and then literal evil converted their own friends against each other. It sounds super interesting for a Vampire Diaries or Teen Wolf or even My Babysitter’s A Vampire plot line (or just one episode) since those shows were more active based. This season barely had any hidden things or riddles, and half of it had Sibuna paranoid and working against each other which I’m sure no one really loved. Not to mention that the action mainly happened at the Gatehouse rather than the actual Anubis House, the center for two of the last mysteries. Now I know, I know, the new season couldn’t just be a copy, and having a third mystery with hidden compartments over the house would certainly be a lot for Robert and Louisa. But I mean, didn’t Het Huis Anubis have four seasons? They couldn’t just do their version of that? I’m guessing that they did something different (I really hope so, because if not, this is embarrassing)

things i did not like at all about this season

the fact that they twisted Mara’s character up in their new ‘messed up girl obsessed with a boy’ like Joy in S2. just- why?

the fact that they undid a bunch of Jerome’s development.

or how about the fact that all Jerome got to do this season was be part of a love triangle cheat fest and then a love drama with Joy. In S1 he shoved himself into Sibuna and Rufus and it was bad for him, but he was involved. And S2, he was just amazing, they managed to connect his family and his family troubles with something that Sibuna would’ve needed for the Mask of Anubis: the Frobisher Gem. It all came together perfectly.

we didn’t get anything of Mr. Sweet telling Eddie about his Osirian thing or their family history.

The way they treated KT when they thought she was evil. It was so messed up, honestly, that poor baby. (though I did appreciate that the other residents noticed, like at breakfast when she sat down and no one looked at her, and he said, “Good morning, KT.” and he just noticed something was wrong. And then Joy and Mara noticed. I just really feel like that was the moment where Jerome and Joy coulda been more involved with Sibuna again- wait what am I saying)

No, when they and Patricia and Alfie were at the Gatehouse and they tried to warn them about the ceremony is when JOY AND JEROME SHOULDA GOTTEN INVOLVED IN SIBUNA AGAIN. Or like, at least be more aware, I mean come on?? Joy, you’re better than this. And Jerome, you’ve seen enough weird stuff to know when it’s Sibuna-related and usually that means deadly-related so you’re whole having two girlfriends thing can wait for a while.

Caroline Denby sucked. (And Caroline Forbes from TVD is a fan favorite of mine and not to mention that MY NAME IS CAROLINE so imagine that).

the fact that we got rid of the real Victor was kinda just wrong for me. I mean, Victor has always been a pain in the ass with the kids, and he’s usually wanted what they were after as well but he’d never resort to murder or anything like that, so when he got turned into a sinner and lost his friggin soul (yes, they said that, this is true) we truly lost Victor and I didn’t like that at all.

Season 1 was all about a mystery but also partly conspiracy, there was a moment between all five of Sibuna where they got proof and realistic statements after Joy lied to them (at the insistence of her dad) they were starting to think that the mystery wasn’t real and almost backed out of the search. Remember? Nina said, “You guys aren’t giving up on me, right?” Anyway, that was that. It was all about finding more information about what really happened and what’s really going on. About finding answers.

Season 2 was darker, it was a race against time because unlike the mystery of the first season, this one was more about saving themselves. Nina’s life and her friends and Gran would’ve died, it’s a great motivator to go through the tunnels. And there were moments where we see just how serious this is, there’s one shot where Nina is in a dream sequence in the house and all her friends are running away from her, terrified. And even when Victor sees her, he backs away in fear and hides himself in his office and then in the mirror it’s revealed Nina’s dressed and appears as Senkhara. And then when Senkhara freezes Vera, Victor knows it’s time to back away, he’s scared, he’s worried, so we see him do what he has to do to get Vera back. And when he’s playing the game? With Sibuna as his game pieces on the huge board? When Alfie disappeared, he backed out, he knew when to stop and almost considered calling Mr. Sweet to do something about it.

Meanwhile, Season 3 was all dark evil stuff, run for your life or your literal soul will be taken. It’s the end of the world if they awaken this sleeping dude, we need heroes to stop the bad team. Oh no, he’s awake, now he’s going to unleash hell and evil and it’s the end of the world, only now everyone’s converted to the evil and it’s real bad, we need heroes desperately. 

This season might’ve been more dark or good vs. evil type of thing but it just didn’t feel right for HOA. The show has always been subtle, it’s quiet and the kids solve the mystery and they do everything very hushed and private, this season sort of felt like WHOAH PIE IN YOUR FACE GUESS WHAT IM A SIBUNA what with turning the whole school into sinners, I just didn’t like the whole school being this active. but that’s me personally. 

Robert Frobisher-Smythe being the one in the tank is ridiculous considering wE SAW HIS FRIGGIN GHOST AT THE END OF S1. And honestly, bringing him in and saying that he’s going to bring forth a darkness to make people evil and bring the apocalypse is just a really bland plot. It’s no mystery, it’s legit good guys vs. a villain. It’s a ‘save the world’ plot, yeah like we’ve never seen that before.

We love the mystery, where was it? oh right, nowhere.

When the four descendants of Robert’s expedition party were revealed: Patricia, Joy, Alfie and Jerome, there could have so much content.

The four of them speaking in unison while they sleep should’ve been used more.

Remember the childhood lullabies they were supposed to use to find a random artifact? Those lullabies were riddles and other than that cylinder that KT opened using her synesthesia, it was the only thing that made it feel like good old days of House of Anubis.

again, making Robert the man in the tank and then evil was just stupid. im not gonna approach the fact that he took the punishment meant for his expedition party and that’s why he’s cursed, and now he’s evil? oh gods

again, seeing the three OG Sibuna gang members evil and not on Sibuna kept killing me.

that ending bugged me

like oh no! everyone’s gone insane, we gotta shut this thing down before it devours more souls. TWO HOURS LATER and now it’s time to enjoy fireworks and Fabian and Mara and flirting and its so unnecessary, whyy??

Leave Mara with Jerome (in which he didnt cheat) and Willow is happy with Alfie and KT and Joy are out there being gay as hell. Those are the ships that shoulda happened.

Honestly, when I think back at S2 and Amber and Nina are there, it just brings back such good vibes. S2 really is the best season, but I stand by my love for Eddie and KT. Friendship goals AF. Like I said before, the third season was in your face, it was loud and it was telling everyone ‘end of the world’ and when you think about it, it’s perfect for the characters they introduced. S1 and S2 fit so well for Nina, because she’s like that, she’s quiet yet badass and is about riddles and mysteries. Meanwhile, Eddie is loud and wants to get this over with, LET’S BREAK INTO OUR TEACHER’S HOUSE BECAUSE I HAVE A HUNCH. YOU WANNA SEE THE SLEEPING MAN’S FACE, FABIAN? LET’S REMOVE THE GLASS. LET’S STEAL THE TANK WITH THE SLEEPING MAN IN BROAD DAYLIGHT.  LET ME JUST BARGE INTO VICTOR’S OFFICE TO TAKE YOUR KEY BACK, KT. LET’S DO WHATEVER IMPORTANT TASK OR MISSION WE NEED HAVE TONIGHT. LET ME BANG AGAINST PIPES AND BRICKS REALLY LOUDLY. And let me tell you, it just makes me laugh how into it he gets, like “why not?” it’s just so funny for some reason. Anyway, I think they decided to make this season fit what they wanted Eddie to be and that’s what they did. I loved Eddie’s performance, I loved him so much, I loved KT more. But I just didn’t love this season.

[vtmb2s]

and audrey fuck it. basics (1, 2) + life (2, 3, 9) + wasteland (9, 13, 14 [pretend there are some in the west <3]) + factions (12... great khans 😏)

Hii sorry i’m posting this 10 years late, anyway this includes 2 other asks by @roberthouses  and @rainbowtroutlesbian ❤

BASICS

1. What are their SPECIAL stats?

Strength: 4

Perception: 6

Endurance: 6

Charisma: 7

Intelligence: 9

Agility: 5

Luck: 3

2.Which skills would be “tagged” for them?

Her tagged skills are medicine, speech and guns 😏 she sucks at literally everything else :(

7. Do they have a preferred way of fighting, or do they avoid physical conflict?

She prefers to avoid physical conflict but some people are just bad, no one would miss them if they were gone 🤷‍♀️ She likes to use shotguns, especially the sturdy caravan one 😏

LIFE

2. Were they born into a particular faction or city? What was it like growing up there?

She was born sooomewhere in California, a small little village in og NCR territory. It originally consisted of people who descended from a group of palestinian/lebanese immigrants and slowly grew in size when the NCR took over... her mom's family was one of the original inhabitants. Her dad, originally from Arroyo, might be in the NCR's army, who knows (I really don't know. I made him my chosen one but im not that far in fo2 yet so he's a mystery for now), in any case her whole family wholeheartedly supports them. It wasn't perfect but she still had a rather privileged upbringing, she was safe, had access to clean water & food and a somewhat good education, a loving family and all that... she'd definitely call it happy. Bad things didn't really happen until after she reached adulthood </3

3. What sort of education did they receive? Are they barely literate or are they well-versed with technology?

I like to think the NCR has schools (they probably do anyway) so it was pretty good, especially compared to other random wastelanders who can barely read. She studied medicine as an adult, I imagine it's not like a present day medical school though. She knows a lot more about tending to people's injuries and common illnesses but not much about other things... she definitely doesn't know everything that an actual doctor would but it's enough ig.

7. If they travel frequently, what’s their favorite place to visit?

Out of the in-game locations... definitely Goodsprings... it's nice little village that reminds her of her home. In a way she likes New Vegas too, the glamour of some of the Casinos are fun, if you ignore everything else going on in there and just go there to dress up and spend the only two caps you have. She's not a huge fan of big cities in general and prefers smaller towns that have all the comfort she needs but without large masses of people around.

9. Do they prefer to travel alone or with a companion or a group? Do they have many friends or connections otherwise?

she's someone who prefers travelling with someone else, it's safer that way and she likes having someone to talk to 😌 she does have a lot of connections to all sorts of people, at least to the sort who appreciates nice people (these are more... lose connections. She's not officially part of anything except the NCR but also not really). Everyone else just thinks she's a loser -_-

WASTELAND

1. Are they familiar with pre-war culture? If so, is there anything they’re fond of from that era?

A bit, mostly music and fashion!! She particularly likes pre-war songs of the late 1960s, she's a fan of Nancy Sinatra and the Mamas & the Papas c: She likes pre-war fashion of the same era too, even though she usually wears more practical things.. She likes the hairstyles, makeup and clothes from the sixties though and likes to wear that when she's not out adventuring, looking like a cowboy 😌

2. What’s the worst experience they’ve had in the wasteland?

Apart from being shot in the head... her sister dying :(

5. How do they feel about wasteland food? Do they have access to fresh food and water or do they rely on pre-war canned goods?

Big fan of fresh food!!! They had a lot of farms back home where she grew up so she had access to fresh vegetables and meat (not iguanas or some shit) AND clean water, so she's used to that... Of course you can't have homemade stew when you're out travelling so she has to make do with the gross shit they sell out in the wasteland, at least as long as it's not pork. As for drinks.. the mojave does have clean water, though it's not always available so she resorts to nuka cola all the time i :/

9. Do they prefer to scavenge or trade for the things they need, or do they somehow make it themselves?

She's not a big fan of scavenging, her luck stats are pretty low so she almost never finds anything valuable -_- Sometimes she has to but she prefers to trade or buy things, or make them herself if she can.

10. Do they listen to the radio? Do they have a favorite station, song, program, etc.?

YES she listens to Radio New Vegas ALL the time... she's a fan of the country songs played there, the other ones too of course but those are her favorites. She likes the news program too, mainly for Mr. New Vegas.. she has a big fat crush on his voice

13. What’s their experience with chems like?

Welllll.. she used some of them for medical purposes, on her patients back in her doctor days as well as on herself (yk the ones like stimpaks, radaway or med-x), if they help her heal shes gonna take it 🤷‍♀️ she maaay have taken mentats once or twice back when she was studying but don't tell her mom

14. Do they believe in cryptids?

Yes 😳 The in-game mojave doesn't really have any cryptids except aliens i suppose, but she's supersticious. She believes in all sorts of creatures her family back home told stories about whenever one of their bighorners went missing 🙄

FACTIONS

12. What do they think of the Great Khans?

She's a little suspicious of them because they're raiders but there's still this feeling of guilt because of Bitter Springs... which she had nothing to do with, she was out of the NCR when it happened but she still feels weirdly responsible for it for some reason, because she used to be NCR and her whole family still is. She actually gets along with them quite well after she helped them out in Boulder City, most of them are okay with her, probably because she wouldn't tell anyone about her past -_- her 🤝 arcade i suppose