#CLoCS au

[haha-artblog]

Petscop brainrot but I project it on one of my character's aus (+shitposts n other stuff from the same au)

This one's a cool au (at least I like to think so), where Eliza is an orphan who gets visions of other universes, which doesn't get taken seriously until said universes begin colliding, spider-verse style.

(also yes, it is. Loosely based on an animatic I wanted to make with the song A Chattering Lack of Common Sense, hence the au name being CLoCS)

[dollboyism]

College AU | Sukuna x Transmasc!Reader - Part 4

MDNI - underage people dni/dnr with this PLEASE Transferring to a new college in your second year should have been a breath of fresh air - far from your hometown, you considered this change of surroundings to be your anchor, a new start. New experiences, new friends, a new life away from prying eyes. And yet, just when you were sure nothing could go wrong, luck has outplayed you: beer in hand, a misstep. Liquid running down a scowling, pink-haired guys shirt. Little did you know an apology would not cut it. Soon, you would find yourself encountering the same judging eyes, turning your dreams for a fresh start into nothing but a nightmare.

word count: 9k

tags: longfic, alternate universe - college + no curses, slowburn, hurt/comfort, sexual content, transphobia and gender dysphoria, mental health issues, reader has anxiety/is a mad pushover sometimes, eventual soft sukuna, junpei is alive <3, organized crime(eventually...), everyone has their canon scars etc. + Reader either pre-T or in beginning stages of it, up for interpretation.

dividers by saradika-graphics

note: TW for alcohol usage / sexual harassment / assault / external and internalized victim blaming.

The perpetrator is Mahito, sorry Mahito stans If I got anything wrong on photography gigs, which I probably have, close your eyes and remember that I am just a little guy.

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You let out a soft yawn, eyes fluttering open, gaze falling onto the ceiling. Sitting up on the bed, you check the time on the clock near you, then crack your knuckles. Your hands land on the yet-to-be-packed backpack, fidgeting with the zip back and forth. With a drowsy sigh, you sit up and take out the books, notebooks, and other stationery inside of it. You pack your bag with the essentials for tonight's events - at best, that is a small bus map, a charger, a water bottle, and -, your camera, with a gift for the parties' hosts.

The lectures are done for the day, and you have free time - coursework aside - to spend alone. And so, you drop your notebooks on the desk near your now-opened laptop, fall back on your seat, and munch on some chips while your brain slowly awakens. You scroll through sites like YouTube and Instagram until you get sick of the repetitive videos and boring reels, landing yourself on a movie site and scrolling through the recently added films instead. Replace scrolling with scrolling. What a great idea. You go a few pages back and click on movies that have either the worst or the best-looking posters, pretty much relying on luck.

And half of the bad movies have a really good soundtrack, which is a shame.

You clean the mess left on the desk after a long movie session - you accidentally end up watching a trilogy. The party doesn't start for a while, and the path to it consists of a rather short bus ride - so really, you have nothing to do. You slowly feel yourself enter waiting mode as you stare at the screen without much energy to do anything else, yet an undying need to get the hell out of here and wait for the bus for a good 30 minutes instead… But you sit here, blinking slowly at the timestamp, the minutes changing digits like, once per hour, you swear. You fidget with your water bottle and prod at the cap, twisting it back and forth while listening to the soft sounds of it opening and closing shut.

Eventually, it happens - hot ridges run over your skin, and as if triggered with a flick of a thumb on a lighter, fire spreads across the chunk of skin connecting your pointer and thumb - with a soft hiss, you put down the water bottle quickly, almost causing it to fall over as you blow air on your now-reddened palm. The feeling is like a yarn burn, except the ridged texture of the cap is even harsher. Letting out an irritated huff, you look over your shoulder - your outfit laid out already on the bed, color matched, backpack with your camera nested inside. Underneath is your jacket, ready to be worn. Once the clock strikes the right hour you get to leave, that is.

"That's gonna take years." You mumble to yourself.

With your laptop playing some kind of a Pomodoro timer, the ambiance of a coffee shop in the background - you pace around your room while submitting homework. Last - and current week's practice is focused on nature - you took upon photographing pigeons and native birds around the city, one of them has caught your eye the most: Small, brown, with specks of beige on the stomach, white on their cheeks - black around the neck and face. The tree sparrow.  At first, you had confused them with the meadowlark after looking up one of your pictures on Google Lens. However, after a quick search on iNaturalist, you found that Google Lens was wrong...Yet again. In your portfolio folder, you include pictures of those lovely birds, some in the middle of eating, some just resting on trees and wires - others mid-flight. Their wings oddly reminded you of butterflies, the way they were followed by black and white lines there and here, almost creating a web-like structure.

As you hit send, you lean back and just listen. To the ambiance, the little muffled dialogues in the background, and the sound effects added in every few seconds that sound like little blings or beeps. Your chair squeaks as you shift and get comfy on your seating, stretching your arms upwards as you slowly crack the joints in your back. Holding onto the backseat, you shift your torso from side to side as you get a few more pops in, until you practically melt into the chair afterward, relaxed. You check your email for any responses for the interviews you went to a bit ago, and pucker your lips… Still nothing. You get to thinking, hands clasped together, pointer fingers up and pressed against your lips. Essays will get graded, but not today. Photography homework is done. Maths, you'd rather do after the party - damn the system. Other classes are just fine, besides that mockup thing you have going on... Then, until next Monday, you'll probably have to move on to animal portraits, too. You wonder, would there be a cat or a dog at that party, to take pictures of?- Ah. You slowly blink as you sit up, thrown right back into waiting mode. You curse at yourself.

You lay on your stomach on the bed, dropping onto it with a huff and kicking your feet mid-air while playing a game, just hacking and slashing your way through the entire thing, not paying much attention to the dialogue, or pointers, which only bites you in the ass as you miss a key detail in defeating that enemy to begin with. Chin resting on your jumbo squid plushie, arms laid over the soft material, you mindlessly tap away at the screen, eyes glazed over, listening to your characters and enemies grunt and yell at each other while fighting. Tired. Bored. Waiting. You hug your plushie with one arm while finishing up a round against an enemy, tapping at the screen with one finger until your character lands a final blow, following a special animation. You picked up the flowers, seeds, and some materials for weapon making, and fought a bunch of enemies to level up your character so that you could reach the next part of the story… Only to shut off your screen whilst pouting, having gotten bored - or demotivated. You lay on your back, head against your squid, thinking. Maybe getting out 30 minutes earlier wouldn't be a bad idea. Because, if you had to spend even one more hour doing nothing, paralyzed with the need to wait, you might start pulling on your hair.

You change, applying tape while looking in the mirror, making sure to follow the directions you’ve saved on your bookmarks. Once done, you pick up the previously abandoned clothes off of the bed, putting them on article by article, until you stand in front of a mirror, fidgeting at the cloth and feeling your outfit envelop your skin. At first, the sensation is so foreign, yet after some time spent in new clothes, the body ignores the sensation almost as easily as it blocks out the nose from a humans’ vision. Whoever is reading this, probably, is now hyper-aware of their nose obstructing a tiny bit of their vision, too. Welp.

You chew on a quick snack and slide some more objects into your bag, one of them being a subtle fidget toy, before walking out to catch the bus. Lock the door, walk down the stairs, reach the exit - the route is now a part of your routine, and you follow it without even thinking, head lost up in the clouds. Until your phone buzzes in your pocket. You take it out, checking the notifications bar - a message from Yuji. Once you open the app, you absentmindedly follow the words sent to you, almost passing the threshold, until your brain processes the implications behind them.

“Ryomens picking you up in 10 mins”

Wait, what? 

You flick your eyes back at the beginning of that already short sentence, reading it a few times over, only to realize that truly, you are not dreaming. Your heart drops.

You are frozen, one foot still raised to step over the threshold of the dormitory as you realize that you will have to spend an agonizing 15 minutes in a cramped space with Ryomen. You get a bit queasy as you almost text the boy “ Wdyfm pick me up”, thumb hovering over the send button. Then, you raise your head and finally get out of your stuck position, breathing in sharply as you get off the threshold. You text back something casual in response instead, barely remembering it after hitting “send”, shut off the screen, and curse as you hit a pole nearby… Only to cringe in pain, hunching over. You lean against a bench while rubbing your ankle, cursing yourself out. 

Whatever possessed me to do that?? 

Back to the point. 

Sukuna is picking you up. That's now how you planned to get there. How are you gonna act around him? Is he going to have you sit in the passenger seat? Are you two gonna be alone? What the hell are you gonna talk about, if so? And if you find a good topic to land on aside from the upcoming party or playing 21 questions about his life - will he pick up on your awkward state and tease you? Or is he going to be laid back? Or is he just going to glare at you again???

After a brief break on the bench, you walk to the north gate, strained and glaring at the ground, as if the earth itself has cursed you. Having to interact with men of his type, one by one, always fills your stomach with… Spiders or something, you can't figure a good enough comparison for now. It’s awkward, and you are REALLY not used to it. You put your headphones on and fidget to a song for a while, then stare around yourself until you notice something in the distance - white belly, black neck. Tiny, button-like eyes.

A tree sparrow. 

Near a little pond. 

It stands there, sipping, unbothered, so close... You haven’t gotten the chance to get a picture so up close yet. So naturally, you slow your movements and mind the sounds you might be making - the shuffling of your clothes, any leaves crunching underneath your shoes, your breaths - Quietly, you kneel down, unzipping the front pocket of your backpack to take out your camera, looking back at the bird every few seconds to make sure you do not startle it away. And so you turn on your camera, uncapping the head, zooming in, one eye closed shut, shifting the focus. You get into a stiff position as you press on the shutter after getting the perfect composition-

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!

Tires harshly collide against the ground, right near the entrance. The bird gets startled and flies away as you snap a few pictures of it mid-flight. You pout, wondering if you even got the shot of it peacefully drinking the water before some asshole had to show off in his car - you only get a thumbnail of the last picture, for two seconds or less, before standing up. Your eyes meet the license plate, recognition in your eyes. Same numbers, the same model as described by Yuji. 

With a defeated sigh, quickly fix up the lens, put the cap on, and approach the driver's window - they are all blacked out, but, the least you could do is greet the man first, right? So you wave at the dark surface awkwardly, barely able to see a thing. Ryomen lowers the window and grins at you, showing off his fangs. He eyes your chest for a moment, which you raise an eyebrow at. There’s no way I have a bump, right?.. You check subtly, patting and shifting the handles of your bag.

“Hop in the back.” The pink-haired man drawls, leaning back against his seat. Ryomen eyes your camera for a bit and tilts his head, revealing a previously obscured figure behind himself. Someone is sitting on the passenger seat - white hair, red streaks, a stoic face - Uraume. You let out a relieved sigh and nod, moving towards the backseat, glad to not be stuck alone with the man. As you open the door, suddenly you are met with the sight of two more people - a pink-haired boy and a black-haired one, looking at something on a phone. Yuji and Megumi are seated together towards the edge of the car, so you sit down just fine without bothering them. You feel around for the belt and buckle in while exchanging greetings with them. Megumi nods at you, Yuji gives you a giddy smile, clearly in the middle of babbling something to his crush. 

“Hi there!”

You bite down a dorky smile, trying to not ruin it for your friend - he’s trying to impress Megumi with whatever it is they were discussing. You lean back against the seat and greet back politely.

The drive goes by quietly, which you’re thankful for. You just relax and don’t speak much for a bit while Ryomen drives. Your eyes dance from the window, to the ceiling, then to your seating buddies - as Yuji compares their hand size, then compliments the black-haired boys nail color - he experimented with light blue and black colors today. You give your friend a subtle approving nod - your advice got him somewhere, at last. You quietly fix the strap of your camera and snap some pictures out the window the moment your eyes catch a stray or a pigeon relaxing about. Not the best, but could be used as a filler for the end of your portfolio.

“..Where is that necklace?”

You don’t realize that the question is aimed at you until you look up, seeing those red eyes study you through the rearview mirror, finger tapping on the steering wheel while people pass by on a crosswalk. Overhead lights are red. “Necklace?” You repeat with a confused look on your face, then look over to his brother for a second - Yuji looks confused as well.

“Yeah, like that tab thing..” He gestures awkwardly and frowns, then looks forward once the lights hit green again.

“Uh..Left it at home.”

The man hums back, but you could have sworn that you saw him pout a bit. You glance at the veins in Sukunas hand as he drives, then up his arm and nape. He seems to have gotten a touchup recently, it looks more buzzed than before. Your eyes rake over the tattoos on his trapezius, following them until they hide behind the fabric of his jacket. You blink as you realize where your gaze is going, and immediately dart your eyes elsewhere. You get told the car belongs to Uraume, but their PT advised them to avoid it for a while until their hands heal - you’re unaware of what that is referring to, maybe carpal tunnel or something alike that. You frown and wish them a speedy recovery. 

You fidget with your camera settings for a bit, and with no result - ISO goes up, down, and back to its original state. Random settings you never used get turned on and off, as you sit there - ducking your head to avoid being talked to like a student with low grades avoiding being called. Yuji and Megumi are fine to interact with, but you aren’t used to the other two enough to truly relax in their presence. Speaking of… You look at Uraume, back to Ryomen, - are these two dating, you wonder? You lean back, thinking. They are friends with Ryomen, last you heard, and on good enough terms that they feel safe to have him drive in their car, so… Eh, it’s none of your business anyway. You look over the scenery outside while music plays - you notice familiar notes. You murmur along to the lyrics, recognizing the notes from a previous blasting session you had to interrupt early this month. Meanwhile, others complain about the music choice, specifically Yuji - the loud volume completely ruining the moment he had with Megumi. He holds hands with the boy as he chastises Ryomen with a whine:

“Sukuna turn it offf, it sucks!” 

Megumi simply looks at Yujis’ eyes as the boy talks, clearly not caring much for the distraction. The man only tuts in response. “I drive, I choose the music.” 

You snort slightly.

Yuji just groans in response. Uraume does not respond with much, only lowering the volume while letting the song play out till the end, which Ryomen does not argue back with. It’s their car after all. And, it is not the most car-drive-friendly music, more like something you’d play during a workout session and give your ears a sore ache from, you think to yourself. As your eyes fall back to the rearview mirror again, you could have sworn you noticed Ryomen smirk for a second there, as he listened to his brother stutter something out to Megumi, another shy, dorky compliment. 

The man meets eyes with you briefly, a mischievous smile on his face as he switches to a more romantic song in his playlist.

So he’s supervising too, huh...

~

You slide your shoes off and head towards the living room area of the flat. You look at the overhead triangular flags, some drinks and food on the table, the soft cushions on the long couch, listen to the music playing from the TV, and hum. Looks cozy. You were told the host of the party is Ryomens friend, celebrating their engagement. It’s lively here, there are already a few people at the place, chatting about. In their respective groups. You didn’t come empty-handed, that would be obscene. You spot the couple rather quickly, considering their body language and the rings - and you hold your gift bag tighter, recognizing one of them. What the hell is Gojo doing in here?

After a brief recognition dances through your mind, you shrug - Okay, this guy got engaged to Gojo.. You smile, exchange pleasantries with them and offer them the gift bag - inside a wine bottle alongside some treats, which the dark haired man accepts with gratitude. You notice they are wearing kimonos underneath their cardigans, possibly to protect the cloth from stains. You figure they had a Yuino ceremony before this, especially once you look over the table with the gifts- a miniature crane with a turtle, then pine, bamboo and plum trees - last, for new beginnings. Monetary envelopes and some stationery, too, two spousal dolls seated next to each other. Last, the most obvious clue, were special Yuino gift boxes, probably filled with more symbolic gifts and such. You smile as you look at the small dolls nested together.

Though, you feel just a tiny bit nervous as you stare down at your camera again, leaning against the wall as you undo the cap and apply the tripod plate to the bottom. You really hope you don’t fuck up - sure, you’ve been doing this for years but still.. You worry. Ryomen looks over at you, a confused frown on his face.

“Is the battery low or something?”

“No.”

Keeping your face behind the camera, you make brief small talk with people - some guests, some friends, - and guide others into posing for the pictures. About half of them are candid shots, you figure the couple would enjoy something natural to look at later, too, aside from posed pictures. Once you spend enough time at the place, you figure - it's not as nerve wracking as you assumed it would be.

During a ten minute break practically forced onto you, you enjoy some cupcakes, made by Suguru himself, and thank the man politely while nibbling on one. You notice Yuji, leaning against the wall near Megumi, pursing his lips in an awkward manner. Your eyes meet, and his run away from contact. Yuji stares at Megumi again, determined. The pink haired boy almost leans into the wall with one arm, causing your heart to drop as you realize he's going to test a corny pickup line on Fushiguro. Your body moves on its own as you make a quick beeline towards them, pretend to pass them by and give Yuji a subtle shove, causing the boy to fall right into Megumis arms. Yuji goes as red as a tomato and squeaks, while the other just grips him by the elbows, trying to steady him, wide eyed.

"Sorry Fushiguro!" Yuji squeaks out and jumps back. Fushiguro just stares at him blankly, hands still stuck in that same supportive position as before, even as the boy leans out of his touch.

“You can lean on me, I don't mind.” Megumi says with a flat face, or at least attempts to look flat as he slowly turns his head away, cheeks getting rosy. You make brief eye contact with Yuji and with just that, you understand what he's thinking right now. Score!

After sipping some water, you get back against the wall and stabilize your camera on top of a tripod, switching the mode and rolling the lens to focus on the scenery. You casually hum along while some guy with a scar on his lip explains the camera settings to you, alongside composition tips, as if you aren't aware of those yourself already. Though… You just don't feel like arguing, so you keep quiet and nod along while doing whatever you want with the settings. The man continues on until you hear a familiar voice.

"Stop distracting him. Shoo.”

You peek at the reflection on the screen, catching a sight of a familiar, cocky smirk, decorating a man's face. You look over your shoulder at Ryomen after the man leaves, and give him a tired yet thankful smile. You send some of the pictures over to your phone, playing with some filters and judging the images, to see which ones you could edit to be better or discard once home. The pink haired man just stays behind you, leaning over your shoulder to peek at the pictures. You stiffen a bit at the closeness, and stare away at the picture, scrolling through filters back and forth, daring not to make eye contact with him. Truly, you've had enough of playing with the picture but, you feel too awkward to even slide away to a new one. He hums as he looks over the picture with interest, a smirk on his face. You just stand there, feeling his presence behind yourself, his breath falling on your nape, and all of the sudden, here come the spiders and the embarrassment again. The room gets uncomfortably humid or breathless. Ryomens breath fans your ear as he lets out a low chuckle, before straightening back up and walking away.

“We'll be on the couch.” Ryomen throws the words over his shoulder as he leaves you be. 

Once you let out a breath you did not know you were holding, you realize you caused that feeling of breathlessness on your own.

You give him a quiet hum in response and relax, shutting off your phone and picking up your equipment to follow Satoru and Suguru. First, you follow the couple to the balcony, then outside the flat itself, to take some more intimate shots without much of a distraction, or dancing shadows from the guests. And of course, the ambiance of the lights from the outside. You zoom in and out a few times, making sure that the spouses are framed just right against the background .. . Geto shifts and leans onto his spouse, the other just smiles.

“Ryomen said you two share classes?” The white-haired man asks, trying to get a read on you.

“Yup. Philosophy. He even was the substitute teacher for a bit.” You answer slowly while fidgeting with the exposure, not sure if you like it just yet. To buy time, you add in “I assume you guys met him through a different school of the university, or?”

“Oh, nah, we go way back. Went from sworn enemies to best friends. I’m surprised he hasn’t severed me in half yet” Gojo grins. Geto gives him a dissatisfied side-eye.

“Ah.”

You shift your weight and move the tripod further back as they move towards a different background, hands held together almost naturally. Your eyes drink in the sight - they look so in love, and so cute. Of course, this is where you subtly press on the shutter to take a few candid pictures of the lovebirds again as they move about. You speak over the sound of the shutter just in case:

“When did you and Satoru meet?”

The black-haired man shifts before making quick eye contact with you, then glances over his shoulder as he leans into a more comfortable pose. “Between middle and high school, I believe.” He holds onto Gojo's arm, the other just grins at him like a dork. The two now wear just their kimonos, cardigans taken off and laid onto your bag, to not dirty them. You guide them through the rest of the process, and gingerly accept Gojos request for less traditional pictures as well. Things like making selfie poses and silly faces, or such.

Geto let out amused laughs, his head falling back slightly as Gojo continued to fall into exaggerated poses and faces.

You feel cold air brush against your nape, the sky getting just a bit more dark - and the effect it has on the surroundings is rather nice, painting them in a soft blue, the warm light from the streetlights also landing against their clothes or faces as they change positions. You check the colors and lightning, playing with the settings for a second. Looking back up at the couple, then towards the screen of the camera. The feeling that mix of colors give is pretty cozy, but you’d rather have your client share their thoughts than judge it yourself.

“Would you like me to color correct this?” You ask Gojo as you wave him over to look at the state of the colors for now. The tall man stares at the screen and shakes his head no. 

“Nope. It gives a twilight vibe.”

“Alright.”

You fidget a bit, rubbing the back of your hand against your slightly cold nose, before getting back to the job. Due to the reference, you couldn't help but suggest the couple have a little twilight-based photoshoot, of Geto standing beside Gojo while the other makes a pained face, before saying “I know what you are.” Geto lets out a soft chuckle at the end, then shivers a bit in his kimono and tuts as Gojo keeps babbling on about taking more silly pictures.

“Toru, come on. Let's take a normal one and get back inside.” Suguru murmurs to the man, hugging himself, to which his fiance nods at, with a guilty smile. As you prepare to take the last picture, you look over the couple embracing each other and squint. They make eye contact with the camera and smile. Just before you click on the button, Gojo suddenly raises a hand behind Getos head to make a bunny ear gesture. Geto, unaware, just keeps smiling at the camera. You let out a quiet snort, then cock your head at the white-haired man, as if telling him to lower his damn hand down.

…Click.

Coming back to the party, you huddle up near the heater, palms pressed onto the top. Should’ve left the place with your jacket on, but, oh well. At least you are here now. After getting warm, you borrow a laptop to share the pictures easily with the couple - you’d rather have edited them first, but whatever. They gush over the pictures, hunched over the laptop while some guests stand behind them. Muffled dialogue ensues, with some giggles and hums. You rub the back of your neck, embarrassed, and go to the balcony to cool off for a bit.

You lean against the railing. Phone in hand, you scroll through the pictures once more and pick your favorites, putting them into individual folders. You peek at the living room again - maybe you should go join the guys on the couch in a bit. Once you make the blood rush back from the tips of your ears and cheeks towards your overall body, that is. You lean over and look at the ground beneath the balcony, eyes fluttering from the air hitting your face. You tilt your head to the side and people watch for a bit, count some cars, your breaths evening out. You look over your shoulder and decide to take a video of the people just hanging out and laughing together. - After all, people love sharing things like this in their stories, or video edits. You let your camera stand still, back turned for a second as you gaze out the window.

With the balcony door left open, you don’t question when the vibrations of - and sounds from someone's shoes against the ground reach you - you briefly glance behind yourself, not even enough to really recognize their form. One thing is, they’ve got long, light hair, which you frown positively at - it’s cool. You move to the side to give the stranger some space to lean against the railing too, only to be met with the sight of their face, growing ever so close. Way too close.

Your breath hitches. You grip onto the railing and lean back, any more and you’d fall off, your back meeting the suddenly harsh and cold texture that digs into the ridges of your spine, almost latching onto it like a... Arms on either side of your body, the stranger cages you in and his lips land on your cheek. The smell of booze hits your nose, causing you to grimace, still in shock as to what the hell is happening. You stare, he smirks back and slurs about something, hand reaching to palm at your leg. You freeze, unsure what to do - what if he throws you off? Your mind becomes a spiraling mess until-

SMACK.

The sound echoes throughout the place so loud, it’s as if you were standing in a room with no furniture or windows to dull the secondary impact, or even worse, an anechoic chamber  - you almost reach to cover your ears by instinct, it hurts . Beside the man stands a taller one, hand up in the air, a tattoo decorating the skin of his wrist. The shorter mans’ cheek is also decorated now - with a beet-red, stinging palm print. 

Sukuna slapped him. 

There is a slight movement in the pink haired man's jaw, indicating that he’s gritting his teeth, yet his face is expressionless, in a calm anger-like state. Ryomens eyes stare daggers at the long-haired man, whose name you’ve now heard is Mahito, practically asking him if he has a death wish. Grabbing the yelping guy by the collar, Ryomen drags him to the exit and practically throws him out, following the panicked man out and slamming the door shut behind himself, the sound stuck, repeating in your head. Your stomach pushes out nasty bile all the way up your throat, threatening to come out as you gulp it back down, the taste of rot and throw up overwhelming your senses - you cover your mouth and gag.

All eyes are on you, you can feel them even on your back, even though logically, there is only a window behind you - goosebumps travel throughout your body, head to toe - and all you feel like is a pathetic loser and an embarrassment, that couldn’t fight back, or couldn’t just be normal about it and laugh it off, before whatever happened here did. For all you know, he could have been hammered out of his mind… You gulp and pick up your camera. As you slowly come out the balcony, heavily avoiding making any eye contact, especially with the engaged couple out of pure fear - Yuji finds you, wide eyed, his hands landing on your shoulders protectively as he ushers you to an unoccupied room, instead of the exit door like you hoped - seeing the creep again would not matter if you’d just got the chance to leave. Your eyes keep staring at that door, the gaze frozen, stuck in a way. You mumble something to his barely audible questions, and he leaves you alone - you suppose he was asking if you needed space. You sit there, camera in hands, still recording.

Quiet.

Way too quiet. 

Something rings wildly in your ears as you sit in a slightly dark room. Lights from the outside dance on the walls as cars pass by, or an inhabitant of the building opposite of this lights up their room. You stare ahead, at one spot on the wall, quiet. 

A creak. A muffled voice, the mattress dipping beside you. 

A repetition of sorts, like a song chorus. Hesitantly, a hand finds itself on your shoulder and you stagger backwards, staring at it, then cursing yourself internally as you meet eyes with the person in front of you. His jacket is off, hair a bit of a mess, strands landing on his forehead and - you could’ve sworn you saw a few nail marks on his face. His shirt’s a bit tousled, too. Red eyed, as always.

Ryomen.

The same, familiar tattoos on his face, the same red glint in his eyes, and yet, there is one thing different. Something definitely happened behind that closed door, yet his expression betrays almost nothing about the fight - at best, he looks concerned about you, which is a rare occurrence. That slight twitch in his brow, the smallest difference in his gaze puts you at ease, and confuses you all the same. You have never seen him look so… 

Hesitantly, Sukuna moves his hand off your shoulder and whispers, his tone rough:

“That guy touched you?” 

You nod, then cringe after a bit - No, he didn’t!, you think to yourself, he reached to touch you but he didnt… You shake your head no quickly. And as you see Ryomen stare at you, waiting for an answer, confused as hell, you clear your throat and mutter out in one breath:

“He just- Nah, he kissed my cheek and was gonna-...” You hear a click in the middle of trying to find the right words, and look down. 

You still are clutching that camera, this time too tight - you accidentally opened a setting you didn’t want. Then, you notice the blinking red light - it is recording, still. Following your gaze, the man covers the camera with his hand, slowly, then presses on the red button to stop the recording. You just keep staring at the now shut off screen.

“Forget the videos for a sec. Are you alright??” He asks, unnaturally quiet, as if afraid to startle you.

“Yeah..” You mutter back absentmindedly, gaze unfocused.

It’s as if you’re floating, really. Maybe in the middle of a cool pool, the water enveloping you, arms moving to and fro to keep you up… Your name leaves the man's lips, sternly, getting you back down to earth. His brows are furrowed. You bite down on your lip, embarrassed of him reading through your state so quick. You sigh, lean back on a pillow propped up against the wall and shake your head no, giving up on wearing masks for once. You doubt he is the kind to mock it, or at least you hope he won’t.

And… It’s difficult to lie when Ryomen is practically nudging and coaxing the words out of you, bit by bit, with just his gaze alone. 

“I just didn’t want whatever he was offering. That’s all.” You add. “It was…Weird” You laugh, trying to make it sound like you don’t believe it to be that big of a deal. Ryomen simply scowls at that, but he doesn’t comment on it. His eyes shift downwards as he slowly coaxes the camera out of your hands, covering the lens with the cap, and carefully placing it down on the bed stand near. 

The man then hesitates, as he looks to the rather small distance between you two on the bed.

He shifts back, to give you more space. You simply look around the room silently while he positions himself. It’s got light colors on the walls, though they look dull due to a lack of lighting, just the living room lights peeking through. The man opens the curtains and turns on the light, which indirectly helps your eyes explore it better. You pat down the place around you, hand landing on something soft, like cats’ fur. You flinch and shoot your gaze downwards. 

Looking down, you see that it is a fuzzy, purple blanket, and explore the texture some more. After that, your eyes dance over the room itself - the walls, the soft furniture, the desk without anything occupying it, some framed pictures, a closet, an unopened box with paper on top, probably the kind of furniture to arrange on one's own… As you get out of your exploratory haze, you get reminded once again of the weight pressing onto the mattress, not too far from you, and for once... You don’t find yourself disliking the company.

“What room is this?” You fidget with the blanket, running your palm over it.

“It's their guest bedroom.” Ryomen mutters, then looks at the corner, lips pursed as he pats down his pants, pulling out a cigarette box almost out of habit. Though, looking back at you, the man decides against it and simply aligns a pillow against the wall, leaning onto it as well. He raises a hand and points at something on the wall.

 “...I made a dent in the wall there, that’s what the picture is covering.” 

You stare at the pink-haired man, then to where he is pointing, back to his unbothered face, and the only sound you let out is a confused “eh?” 

He looks at you, expressionless, for a few seconds, until slowly but surely a shit-eating grin draws upon his face - he was clearly fucking with you, possibly to make you laugh. And it works a bit, because you snort and call him a dork. Leaning back against the pillow, you fix your hair and glance to the side, relaxing slowly. Though.. A strange sensation goes down your face, a feeling of pressure or an itch, right on your cheek. You rub it, confused, until you realize this is the exact spot where Mahitos' lips have landed. You idly scratch at it, and yet find it irritated just the same. Shit. You recognize that this feeling - it is psychosomatic, and it wont go away for a while. Embarrassed, you raise your voice just a note over a whisper to ask for antiseptic wipes, hoping there are some in the house. Sukuna looks at you briefly and nods. He gets up, leaving the room shortly, closing the door behind himself.

Of course, like clockwork, you think back to that interaction, or lack thereof. Your hands feel cold again as you cup your own cheeks, yet the internal stress is making your face feel almost feverishly warm as well. You close your burning eyes and let out a tired sniffle. Why couldn't you just have one good day? You can't even tell anyone about this, can you? Not your family at least, the most they'll give you in response is a “I told you so” and tell you to get back home at once, threatening hell if they see that you’ve cut your hair since leaving.

No, anything but that. You run the event through your mind multiple times, pinpointing how you could have just prevented it by being more careful, more alert, or not even coming here at all. 

Your string of thoughts gets cut short once the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You blink and rub your tears away again, no time to look weak in front of someone. Ryomen comes in with a small packet of wet wipes in hand, looking at you in slight confusion before offering them to you. He sits back down, scooting just a little bit further away from you. You simply hum at him in thanks and hook out a napkin from the package, rubbing it against your cheek. He watches you wordlessly, head tilted and eyebrows knit, until he can’t take it anymore and blurts out the question: 

“What are these for? Did he get his spit on you?” 

He can’t help but cringe a bit at the thought - and so do you. You chuckle nervously, for some reason finding the question humorous. He just tilts his head at you again, his gaze questioning and facial expression still grossed out.

“No, it just-”

“What?” Ryomen interrupts, then looks you up and down, as if assuming you got injured. Yet again he looks just so over the top genuine, concern written all over his face. Not teasing, not laid back, not cocky or anything - just him. You purse your lips and let the words out in a quiet whisper, tearing up.

“I feel dirty on the spot where he kissed me.” 

That shuts him up quickly. He stares at you in surprise as his eyes widen a bit, lips pursed. Ryomen lets out a slight cough, clears his throat, then turns his head away from you, giving you time to blink a few times and rub your eyes with your sleeve, wiping the stray tears.

“Fucking Mahito.” He grumbles out with a sneer.

Enraged, Sukuna crosses his arms, scowling. You tilt your head at him, making brief eye contact once you're done rubbing your tears away, the action only causing him to dart his eyes away from you once more. Your eyebrow quips. Avoiding eye contact was not something he'd done under normal circumstances… What the hell is going on in his head? Is he alright?

As if having heard your thoughts, Ryomen huffs, relaxes his shoulders and hesitantly scoots over, leaning over as you take out another wipe. He stares at the motion for a while, his eye twitching. Then, he slowly raises his hand, showing you where it is going - and places it on your back, patting it awkwardly. Ryomens movements are almost mechanical, not used to having to comfort people. Still, comfort is comfort, and you relax against his touch with a hum, still rubbing your cheek with that wet wipe. 

“Don't cry. You'll be fine.” He mutters.

You nod in response and sniffle. “Yeah. I know.”

Soon enough… It's become an automatic gesture. Hoping that feeling leaves, hoping your skin is clean again, even if it means rubbing it raw until there is nothing left to feel. After a minute of that repeated motion, Ryomen frowns and looks at you, trying to meet your eyes, his gaze almost speaking on his behalf. You're overdoing it, irritating the skin. “Stop.” The man says firmly. He leans his hand towards yours on instinct, reaching to take the wet wipe but stumbling instead, causing his palm to land on your cheek - you flinch, and he stiffens, eye twitching like he can't wait to beat himself up for the blunder, or better yet – set himself on fire, - and you just stare at each other blankly, frozen. Your heartbeat raises a bit. You're not really used to such touch, or more like you were not one to receive or give it before in your life, but, the warmth of his palm on your cheek, the genuine concern in his eyes… It doesn’t feel weird-

“...Stop rubbing it. You're making it worse.”

After saying that, he weakly leans his hand away, and shifts away from you, casually stealing that wet wipe from your hand as he fidgets with it. Pulling, ripping, folding.... Tense. You simply lower your gaze.

“It's fine really..”

“Doesn't look fine to me.”

Ryomen moves on to fidgeting with his phone after throwing the two used wipes in the trashcan. You look at his hand, grounding yourself through focusing on the movements of his fingers and knuckles as he types away. A thought enters your mind, and you tilt your head, Observing more. There are faint scars here and there, and dry skin on his knuckles, but…You bet he would do good as a hand model if he took care of the latter. As you continue circling through those thoughts, almost getting concept images in your head, you don't even notice the repeated melody coming out of Sukunas phone as he tilts his phone to landscape mode, then hands it to you.

“Hold onto this for a sec.”

Only when something cold bumps your hands, do you look down and realize what's going on. At least halfway, you know he wants you to hold it, but not why. You look at the screen - alongside the repeated melody, there are little 3d models of various fruits and vegetables dancing from side to side, all smiling and happy. You raise an eyebrow, meeting eyes with your acquaintance - or now friend - briefly. Except, he isn't on the bed anymore, he's busy doing something with his bag, back turned to you. He excuses himself for a few, walking out of the room again. 

Letting out a defeated sigh, you look back at the dancing fruit, waiting for Ryomen to be finished with whatever he was doing, wondering why the hell he even asked you to hold his phone. 

Once the man comes back, he stares down at you like he's done something big and serious, waiting for a result, fists against his hips. Unsure of what the hell he is waiting for, you simply smile weakly at him, causing the frown lines on Ryomens face to soften. You give him his phone back, then look around the room once more and notice what's different - your backpack is packed, sitting against the door. You look at Ryomen, expression quizzical. He looks almost pissed off or, impatient, or, “Don't you dare refuse” type, whatever the word for that may be.

“I’ll drive you back to the dorms. Let’s go.”

You blink. Maybe it would be better to get back to the dorms, rather than mope around at an engagement party or ruin the mood any more than you already have. Shifting in your seat, you play with the fabric of that fuzzy blanket for the last time, then nod as you let go.

“Okay.”

~

It is almost as cold inside the car as it was outside, causing you to zip up the jacket and huddle up while the car slowly warms up, buckled in. You sit in the passenger seat, looking over the sky and buildings that the car passes by on the drive home. He's not much of a talker when driving, only offering the occasional unsubtle side-eye. You simply stare ahead and pretend not to notice the glances he occasionally throws your way. Then, you look at your feet.

“Is Uraume okay with you doing this? I mean, it’s their car?”

He tuts, eyes still on the road. “They’ll live.”

You hum back, leaning against your seat. You hug your backpack to your chest, chin leaning on it as you sniffle again. Fuck. Overhead lights dance over the two of you, casting bright lines over your faces, as if scanning you. Ryomen doesn't play any music, either, though he offers if you need to play “whatever silly music you like.” You simply shake your head no and hug your bag tighter. The man hums back and leans back into the seat, hands gripping the steering wheel a bit too tight, knuckles turning white. You bite your inner cheek and look overhead at the stoplight, waiting for the lights to turn red.

Blue.

Blue.

Orange.

Red.

You make sure there are no obstacles before carefully tapping his hand. Ryomen shoots you a quick glare, clearly irritated by something, which causes you to stiffen. 

“Relax your grip. You'll pull a muscle.”

The man just grumbles in response, but obliges either way, his grip loosening as he avoids meeting eyes with you. There is a clear distance between the two of you on the ride back to the dorms. With no third, fourth or fifth person to fill the silence with questions or anecdotes, you find it difficult to talk to the guy. And with how pissed off he looks, you doubt he'd be able to focus on the conversation either. Yet, he insisted on getting you home.

The silence in the car leaves too much space to be filled with thoughts and feelings you would rather run from, like unease. Your thoughts get back to the source of that feeling, and your stomach twists into knots just at the slightest hint of your attention turning back to Mahito. And as Ryomen focuses on driving and avoids your attempts at communication, you wonder what the hell to ground yourself with, trying to escape the playback of that creep towering over you, squirming a bit and trying to shake the thoughts away. Movements stiff, you take out the fidget toy and fiddle with it in one palm, but it’s not enough, not right.

You let out an annoyed sigh, head leaning against the seat. You go through a list of coping tricks. Fidgeting, listening to your environment, playing “spot the colors” with cars that drive by, affirmations, nothing really helps, and that long haired fuck with his creepy hands stays in your brain… Until your thoughts lead back to that video with dancing fruits. You take out your phone, searching for something similar to zone out to. And if zoning out is what Ryomen wanted you to do back there by showing you that animation to begin with... Then he pretty much nailed it. It took you some time to realize that he pretty much treated you like a toddler, soothing you with a cartoon of all things. You decide to focus on that memory for a bit. You stare at a little dancing strawberry, hearing Ryomen laugh in the background as he notices what you’re watching.

...The memory of that conversation floods back, making you feel fuzzy. The warmth of his gaze, - and eventually palm, - as they landed on your face, the imagery plays on repeat in your mind, leaving you in an odd sense of comfort. A need you forgot to satisfy in the midst of that emotional chaos. You rub your palm absently, sighing as you try to relax. You peek at the tattooed man. Could it be that he was angry on your behalf? 

After a bit, Ryomen knits his brows, then speaks up in a gentler tone than before:

“Don't let it affect you. He’s not worth the energy.”

Your eye twitches.

Not let it affect me? The guy practically assaulted me!

Ryomens words fall flat on you, but you’re too tired to argue. Or like if you do, it will probably end up in a screaming match, and fuck up any attempt at friendships in the uni - everyone in your circle knows this guy. You let out a quiet, grumbled ‘yeah’ in response and look away, ticked off. And you know, you know he doesn’t mean it like that, the guy is just trying to calm you down but..Ugh. The pink haired man notices the shift in your expression, though he can’t both drive and beg for forgiveness, or ask what the hell he did wrong at the same time. His lips press into a thin line.

“...Alright. Shutting up now.” He mutters to himself, his tone tense, and turns the radio on for you. You unclench your jaw and relax your shoulders at the gesture. Feeling a bit less anxious than before, you switch the radio and listen to a broadcast rambling on about something, adjusting the volume. Your head falls back, eyes closed. That, with the sounds of the engine, the road itself - slowly meet a frequency that almost lulls you to sleep, similar to the dull sound of an engine in an airplane. You get comfy and curl up in your seat, letting out a hum. You tuck your phone away into the storage panel.

“Sleepy?” A familiar voice questions, and you can hear through his voice that he is smiling. You simply mumble something back in response, hugging the bag to your chest, huddling up as you lean against the door. This leads to him checking if it is locked, with a soft click reaching your ears. “Go nap then. Won't talk my ear off that way.”

You scoff faintly at his joke as you get even more comfy, ready for your nap. Your eyes feel warm and so does your face, nose a bit stuffy from crying. Muffled sounds and words reach your ears, some imagined and some not, as you slowly descend into the land of dreams. In the midst of growing unconscious, you could’ve sworn you felt something caressing the top of your head.

Once back at the gate, you thank Ryomen, get out of the car and bid him farewell, only to be met with a quizzical look as he shuts off the engine and gets out of the car as well. You stare at him, confused. He stares right back, arms crossed. He is going to walk you right to your door, and he won't let you argue back - at least, that's what his grumpy gaze has to mean. Especially with that arched brow, almost daring you to disagree. You let out a tired sigh.

“You're a pain in the ass.” You blurt out, exhausted. 

The man's eyebrows shoot up at your curt response, though he doesn't blow up on you. He simply chuckles, the corners of his lips lifting up in amusement and surprise. Without even agreeing to the offer, you turn to walk to the dormitories and wave him over. He follows back behind after hesitating a bit, hands in his pockets. After walking up the stairs, once you reach your door, you look over your shoulder and meet eyes with the man once more. You bite your inner cheek, unable to stop yourself from asking for reassurance, though you try to keep it casual.

“Are Suguru and Satoru pissed at me?”

“The hell would they be pissed at you for?” Sukuna asks incredulously, scoffing. You shrug in response, rubbing your palm again at the thought, gaze falling to the door, then towards Ryomen again. He probably needs to drive back anyway, so you try to cut the conversation short. 

You shrug, rubbing your nape awkwardly. “Nothing, I guess. Thanks uh..for everything” you mutter, keeping eye contact with him. Ryomen just looks at you blankly, red eyes piercing through you. You frown a bit, and study his expression all the same. Now to think of it, his cheeks look a bit red - probably got cold walking outside without his jacket, and wouldn't admit to it. Though, it does make him look flustered as hell as he turns his head, face growing red as he waves you off dismissively. You bite down an amused smile.

“Don’t make it weird.” He tuts. 

You finally push the key in and turn a few times, hand on the handle. Out of pure impulse, or anxiety, or whatever the hell possessed you, you add in a request.  “Also, uh. Don't tell anyone I cried, please.”

“Fine.” Ryomen agrees casually, as one would expect. You nod at him and let out a relieved breath, pulling on the handle. Before you get to open your door, though, he continues: “..But, you owe me one.”

You stiffen and let out a loud groan inside of your mind. Another favor… Can't he just be direct? How old is he, twelve? You let out a tired grunt as you dart your eyes towards the man, giving him a mean look, which he just laughs at. Your frown slowly melts into an amused smile as you give Ryomen a slight shove. “Dude, you can ask to hang out like a normal person.”

The man just looks at you blankly, a facade of a relaxed smile on his face, eye twitching in embarrassment. “Fine, you got me there.” he replies, and finally leans off the wall with a defeated shrug. “Are you free on Saturday?” You nod and give him another gentle nudge, rushing him off. The action only causes him to let out an amused chuckle again. He raises a hand, which you meet in a quick high five, and wave him goodbye as the two of you part.

After the man's departure, you sit in your room, silence enveloping you. You turn on your laptop, tapping your foot against the floor to produce any sound, something good enough to distract you. You grumble as you get some music playing on your phone, then get to unpacking your bag, putting things in their rightful destination, your movements mechanical. As you hang the bag over your chair, you hear something fall onto the floor. You pick up the paper envelope, flipping it back and forth, then tucking it back into the inner pocket of your bag. Ryomen must have snuck in the payment while you were busy dissociating, or whatever that shit you went through was. 

Changing into homey clothes, you sit down on your chair. You push your knees against your chest as you get to editing some pictures for the remainder of the night, the maths notebook left abandoned on your right side, waiting to be filled out. You take a napkin and finally blow your nose, letting out an exhausted sigh as you do. Your eyes land on that notebook.

Maybe tomorrow.

[paperstorm]

hi andie, do you have any tarlos fic recs for fics published in 2023? It doesn't have to be about season 4, it can be AU or canon or canon divergence, whatever rating is fine, just some fics that you read and loved this year

I posted this at the beginning of the month, here's all my favourite fics that I read in May! I will do the same for fics I've read in June.

[wonwoonlight]

my daisy / chapter 7 | kim mingyu

➝ CEO!Mingyu x Secretary!Reader

➝ strangers to lovers // single dad!Mingyu // fluff // lighthearted // non idol!au // like pls dont expect any dramas here lol // tiny bit of angst ig

➝ series warning: mentions of sex, no smut but there’s implied sexual activities, insecurity (as always jshbdjhsfshbf am sorry), curses, food, let me know if theres more ^^

➝ word count: 3.6k

➝ A/N: HI HOW ARE WE HOLDING UP I AM GOING CRAZY BC THE COMEBACK IS TOMORROW AND I WANNA LISTEN TO THE SONGS ALREADYYYYYYY. on another note! surprise? haha decided to post a little earlier bc i dont see why not when im this happy over the comeback... anyhow!!!! we're finally here for Mingyu & OC moments!!!!!!!!

when your cousin asks you to be her substitute at SVT Inc. as she takes her maternity leave, you’re pretty sure this wasn’t what you signed up for.

series masterlist

The next few days pass by quickly. Either all of the companies here want to meet Mingyu while he’s in town or if it’s just Jennie’s efficient scheduling, you never seem to ever get out of a meeting until it’s at least 6 in the evening.

Two days more then you’re going home. Even though your bed isn’t half as comfortable as the bed in Triple W Hotel, you still miss it and you want to go back to your room already. Being in Japan for work and being in Japan for holiday are two different things, it turns out. You barely even have time to sit down and relax, let alone enjoy the Tokyo scene.

[19:01] SVT Kim Mingyu: have you had dinner?

[19:01] SVT Kim Mingyu: should we go outside and eat?

[19:02] SVT Kim Mingyu: or are you sick of seeing me already

That… is different, too. Spending days following Mingyu around without Seungkwan and any other familiar faces means he’s the sole comfort for your introverted ass. Given, the time you spend with just Mingyu is usually in the car when you’re moving from one place to another, it’s still enough time for the both of you to get even closer.

Because even for lunch and dinner the guy is packed with schedules to have meals with some kind of representatives (and a few friends, you think), you haven’t had the chance to eat with Mingyu again after that sushi place. You usually just eat by yourself while you wait for him to be done. On top of that, Mingyu would have room service for breakfast while you go downstairs to the hotel restaurant area to have yours.

You wonder if that’s the reason why your heart jumps at the invitation.

Huffing a little after replying to Mingyu’s text with a ‘sure! when?’, you quickly go through your suitcase when he replies: ‘in 15 mins?’. Maybe you should thank Jisoo for insisting you to bring more clothes than you would’ve, because there’s no way you’d be going out with Mingyu in what you’d usually consider casual. As much as you try to insist it isn’t a date, you should at least look decent going out with someone who looks like Kim Mingyu (or in general, really, but Mingyu makes you extra conscious even though he never says anything about the way you dress).

Taking one last look in the mirror, you nod to yourself before you step out of your room. Why are you even nervous? You’re just having dinner together, like you usually would with Jihoon, Soonyoung, or Seokmin. Mingyu probably doesn’t want to eat by himself and he’s finally out of dinner appointments. He’s just asking to go with you as a friend. Jennie would most likely have to accompany him eat like this too, you remind yourself.

“Oh? Hi,” someone greets you as you wait for the elevator. “A bit early, are we?”

You grin at Mingyu as your eyes flick to your own watch that says it’s only been 10 minutes since his text, pretending like you’re not flustered. Gosh, you practically see this man everyday and you still blush at his good look?

“Had nothing to do.”

“What, no report to finish?” he jokes, telling you to go in first when the elevator door opens.

“With all due respect, Sir,” you playfully clear your throat, flicking your hair back as he settles next to you. “I am off the clock.”

The sound of his laughter fills the elevator, one that brings a genuine smile out of you, too. Before he can say anything more, the elevator door opens again and a whole family enters the limited space, pushing you back closer to Mingyu. His hand reaches for your arm out of reflex when you stumble, and you can’t help getting warm at the feeling of his fleeting touch on your skin.

“You okay?” he asks as if you just got trampled on. But you nod nevertheless, telling him you’re fine and you just trip on nothing. He chuckles at this, leaning down to your ear and tells you to be careful which prompts your face to heat up over his breath fanning your hair.

You glance at the small drawing on top of the elevator buttons, a sign that says the elevator can only hold the weight of 15 people at most. You’re pretty sure there aren’t that many people yet, but the elevator already feels crowded as it is. Despite that though, of course, when the elevator opens again, the next group of people insists on coming in because there seems to be enough space for another three. The family from earlier shifts to make space, which forces you to press yourself closer to Mingyu.

The guy doesn’t seem to mind though, even pulls you further by the arm so you’re standing in front of him instead. His hands move to your shoulders, holding you in place so you won’t stumble again.

This is something that you notice just recently, but Mingyu, like Gyuri (or is it the other way around?), is just naturally touchy with people he’s comfortable with—which already extends to you, it turns out. You notice how Mingyu would absentmindedly reach for your arm when he’s calling you, or, now that you think about it, how he’d often place his hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder when he’s trying to point out something to the guy. Maybe that’s where Gyuri gets her touchy nature from.

You take in a deep breath at the proximity, thanking the universe at least Mingyu wouldn’t be able to see your nervous face from this position. He’s so close, to the point where you can feel his chest hovering against your back. One stop backwards and you’ll meet his chest.

—and that’s your cue to stop thinking about it before your body somehow registers it as a command instead of a passing thought.

You look down on your feet to mask your nerves as the elevator goes down further and further, the weight of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders feeling heavier as seconds go by. Another minute and you know you’ll be thinking about this for weeks, the ghost of his touch haunting you until God knows when. Honestly, why are there so many floors in this building and why does everyone want to get into the elevator?!

You unknowingly release a relieved sigh when the elevator hits the lobby, and you can hear Mingyu chuckle from behind you as you do so. You turn to give him a confused glance, but he simply shakes his head then pushes you to get out of the elevator.

You hate the way you’re almost disappointed the moment he pulls away and pushes his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“What do you feel like eating?” he casually asks, matching his pace with yours.

“Um, just… street food?” you honestly say. “But I know that’s not a meal for you, so I’ll just follow whatever you feel like eating.”

Mingyu hums as he contemplates his options before eventually answering. “How about some ramen? Then we can go to this festival my friend mentioned.”

You light up at the mention of festival, having always wanted to go on one but you’re not really sure about when they even hold those kinds of things. Mingyu holds back a grin at the sudden change of your posture, excitement buzzing throughout your body.

“Let’s go then,” he says, signaling you to follow him. You happily trail behind the tall guy, sniffing a little the moment you step out of the hotel glass door as the chill night breeze greets you. Maybe you shouldn’t have just worn shorts and a sweater during this weather, but you honestly don’t want to go back and get another layer just for the sake of it. You can bear it; you’ve always liked the cold anyway.

Initially, you thought you’re waiting for Mingyu’s usual driver by the lobby. But when the valet driver instead comes out and gives the key back to Mingyu, you blink hardly at what this implies. Mingyu tilts his head to the side, telling you to take the front seat as he makes his way to the driver’s seat.

You exhale before you open the door of his car, hoping you would make it out of the night sane.

“Wow, it’s packing here, huh?” you exclaim as you join the short queue in front of the door.

“Yeah, which is why I usually order take out or have someone deliver it to the hotel,” he scrunches his nose. You’re glad he’s not fussy about the queue though. Yes, it’s not a long one, but you’re well aware that some people think they’re too good for queues.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Feels like going out,” he vaguely answers.

Mingyu steps forward after the person in front of you moves in, nodding at whatever the waitress is telling him and then holds up two of his fingers. You guess he’s telling her it’s just going to be the two of you, but she says something that gets Mingyu shrugging before he nods nonchalantly, exclaiming that it’s okay (evidently one of the few Japanese phrases you’ve picked up from the whole trip).

“She says the only available place for two is on a high table so we have to sit side by side instead of facing each other,” he briefly explains. “I guess people tend to want to sit facing each other, which is why she has to make sure we’re okay sitting on a stool bar. Plus, we might have to share the table with another party.”

You let out an ‘aah’ as you nod, taking in the weirdly luxurious design for a ramen place. You wonder if Mingyu has a thing for interior designs judging by the eccentric decorations you’ve found yourself surrounded in everytime you follow Mingyu to a restaurant. He gestures to you to sit on the end of the table before taking the seat next to you, another three seats beside him still empty.

But instead of complying, you tell him to order whatever he thinks is good because you need to go to the restroom real quick. When you come back, the guy is grinning on his screen and the seats beside him are already filled by some guys.

“Look, it’s Daisy,” Mingyu grins even wider that his cheeks hurts a little, moving the camera to you only for you to find Gyuri pouting on the screen.

“Hi Lili!!” you wave happily as you take your seat on the bar stool. “Have you been good?”

“Wanna play Daisy,” she whines sadly, which makes you giggle at her adorable pout. “Daisy come home.”

There’s a content smile on your face that warms Mingyu’s heart, and he doesn’t even realize he’s been staring until the waitress comes to put down the drinks he’s ordered for the both of you, prompting him to look up. He scoots closer to you, dragging the stool with him after he leans his phone on a tissue box so he doesn’t have to keep on holding it.

His scent engulfs you once again. But this time, instead of his usual cologne, it’s the soft smell of his coconut shampoo and fabric softener that floods your senses—and it’s bad because you like this much more than his expensive cologne; there’s a sense of domesticity to it, some kind of exclusivity that only you get to witness.

“Daisy?” Gyuri calls you again, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Miss Lili?”

“Always,” you answer without hesitation. “We’ll play with Auntie Soo, Auntie Nini, and Uncle Cherry once we get back, okay?”

“Promise?” she says her most famous line.

“Promise,” you grin to the screen, painfully aware of how close Mingyu is sitting beside you. Your eyes settle on the small window where you can see yourself and Mingyu on his phone, and you look like you’re leaning against him with his arm on the back of your chair. You’re pretty sure if you move even a bit your shoulder would brush against his chest.

Is that the warmth of his breath against your neck?

“Flower,” Mingyu softly coos, leaning his face forward that it almost looks like he’s leaning his chin on your shoulder from the screen. You can feel your throat tightens and it feels like forever before you’re able to breathe like usual again. “Our food is here. I’ll call you again later, okay?”

You don’t know how Mingyu knows the food is here, but just when Gyuri is about to answer, the waiter comes with two bowls of ramen and serves it to the both of you. Gyuri refuses to hang up just yet, insisting that she still wants to talk to you. So you tell Mingyu he’s welcome to dig in first while you entertain the girl some more.

He can’t help the fond feeling that overwhelms him at the sight of you speaking animatedly to his daughter, answering every single thing that comes out of her mouth as your legs bounce on your seat. Mingyu looks down on your bare legs, and then catches the way the guys beside him say something about you that makes him glad you understand not one of their words.

So he quickly takes the coat that’s hanging on the back of his seat, gently lays it on your lap to cover your thighs from the cold (and from wandering eyes of the three bastards beside him). You look at him in question, but he simply scoots his stool even closer and whispers that it’s cold against your ear. He doesn’t know if he’s simply imagined your soft gasp, but he knows for sure that the guys beside him have quieted at what seems to be an intimate gesture.

They shut up for sure later on when Mingyu sends them an icy glare when they start bringing you up again.

“—bye!” he hears you say at last, and then moves his face closer to yours to say his goodbye to Gyuri too.

“Love you, Papa!”

“Love you, Li,” he grins softly, melting your heart at the sight of it. After Gyuri hangs up, he puts his phone back in the pocket of his jeans and tells you to eat before the ramen gets soggy. So you do just that, thanking him for the food before you stuff your face with the most expensive ramen you’ve probably ever tasted in your life.

“Good?” he asks with an amused smile, chuckling at the way you simply give him a thumb up.

Mingyu lets you be after that, choosing to focus on his meal too because you two seem to be hungrier than you initially thought you were. When you’re both finished, Mingyu refuses your offer to pay for your own meal, saying that it was him who asked you to have dinner with him in the first place. But when you frown and insist, he says you’re free to treat him at the festival instead if you want.

It’s a little funny, if you think about it. To Mingyu, paying for your meal probably doesn’t even cost anything, but you can’t help but feel like it’s inappropriate to let Mingyu pay for everything when you’re out as friends and not as his secretary. It’s the least you could do to ease your conscience.

“We’re walking from here,” he says as he parks the car in a public parking lot. “We might need to walk for five minutes or so, but my friend said this is the nearest parking lot to the festival.”

“Heh, I’ll just consider it exercise,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“It’s not exercise if it’s only for 5 minutes, Daisy,” he playfully says with a nudge on your arm.

You scrunch your nose, hoping it masks the giddy smile on your face at your favorite nickname. “I consider everything that requires me to move my body as exercise.”

“You do know you need to move to eat?”

“Yes.”

“That exercise too?”

“Yes.”

Mingyu looks at you in disbelief, an amused scoff already out of his lips before he can hold it back. Have you always been this cute?

“Alright, you win. Shall we go exercise now?” he asks with a mock politeness. You laugh at this, then pretentiously nod your head with a ‘yes, we shall’ before you follow him and step out of the car. Mingyu stares at you from head to toe, ignoring the pointed look you’re giving him that’s basically asking him why he is not moving. “You… what makes you think it’s a good idea to be wearing shorts in this weather?”

“I… don’t like wearing long pants,” you truthfully answer.

Your boss blinks at the revelation, his mouth turning into an ‘o’. Mingyu still doesn’t move though, so you ask him what he’s waiting for. He holds up a hand, telling you to wait as he walks to the back of his car and rummages through the trunk. He comes back with a hoodie in hand, telling you to wrap it around your waist to help shield your legs from the cold even a little.

You stare at the hoodie, your heart beating way too fast for your liking at the situation, but your mouth sometimes has a tendency to speak first before you can even realize what you’re saying. “With your size? Wearing it will probably cover more of my legs than tying it on my waist.”

“Wear it then,” he tells you pointedly. You stare at him, dumbfounded, and Mingyu simply stares back at you in confusion. “What? It’s clean, I promise. I put it in the trunk the other day just in case.”

When you still keep your silence and stare at him, Mingyu sighs and takes a step forward. You immediately take a step back at that, which makes him scoff in amusement. So he takes another step forward, prompting you to step backward again.

“You really wanna do this?” he asks with a playful glint in his eyes. “You know my legs are far longer than yours?”

“Showoff,” you mumble in annoyance, more to yourself than to him. What happens next doesn’t quite register to you immediately, because how can your brain work properly when Mingyu is suddenly hovering over you, tying the hoodie himself around your waist then grins in victory at your dumbfounded face?

“Let’s go?” he says with a cheeky smile that you can’t help but mirror.

“This time, I’m paying,” you remind him sternly, pretending like his move didn’t startle you in the most pleasant way possible.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he answers with a nonchalant wave, leading you to where the festival is. You jog a little to catch up with him, pretending to be annoyed about how inconsiderate he is with his long steps. Mingyu simply lets out a hearty laugh at this, and then reaches out his hand for you to take so you ‘can follow my steps without getting left behind’. You almost blush at the gesture, but quickly regain composure as you snicker and slap his hand away instead.

“Is that how you get girls to hold hands with you?” you narrow your eyes playfully.

“I don’t usually try to hold hands with girls,” he sticks out his tongue.

This is a good look on him too, you decide. As much as the sight of him and Gyuri always manages to melt your heart, Mingyu looks his age like this; with playfulness painting his face and the youth within him seeing the sun (moon?) after so long. No matter how obvious that Gyuri is his whole world now, you’re sure there are times when Mingyu misses the time when he can be carefree without thinking about his baby back home.

Thoughts like this would make you wonder about the missing figure in the little family. You never want to pry it out of Mingyu (or anyone, for that matter), but it is true that you’d be curious from time to time. Gyuri is the loveliest kid you’ve ever encountered in your life and Mingyu easily fills in the perfect man category, what could possibly go wrong?

But you’re a new person in the scene, you remind yourself. You haven’t known Mingyu for long and there might be sides of him that you don’t know just yet. There are a lot of other possible scenarios: a child wasn’t in the original plan for them, or the mom might already pass, quite literally leaving Mingyu with Gyuri behind to go to heaven, and so on.

Mingyu’s warm hand suddenly finds yours, and your head snaps up in surprise at the touch. But Mingyu quickly pulls you with him, reasoning that the festival is a little too crowded and he doesn’t want to lose you in the sea of people.

Jennie’s words suddenly echo in your mind as your eyes refuse to stop looking at your joined hands: ‘You don’t have to deny your feelings, alright?’.

And this time, with Mingyu’s hand enveloping yours, you don’t see any reason to pull away when your heart hums in content at the touch and the warmth that waves through your body is pleasant for once.

So you squeeze his hand tighter instead, nervously biting your bottom lip just in case Mingyu pulls away in surprise. He catches your eyes then, and you can see him holding back a grin before he looks forward again and continues to pull you with him through the crowd.

You wish you weren’t imagining the way his hand tightens against yours.

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.

A/N 2: this is for u @wwssi who somehow have predicted i'd be posting this earlier bc i literally have this queued before u sent that ask :p

taglist: @yslshua@penny-quinn@nollixtrml@dnylwoo@itsveronicaxxx@john-and-paul@wheeinz@rjsmochii@w0nuuu@boowanie@n6body@imtotallydef@wwssi@bythe8@cheolright@coupsiekkuma@hoe4wonwoo@kyeomjjigae@jh-fn@clairdelunesstuff@yoongischeeksluv@onlywonforhui@janandbeyond@treasure-hwa@teddy-cheol@tito-jun@projectjuvia@notscoupy@jeonshuawreads@cheoriemoawa@wtfkidult@itsdnguyenxoxo @nothingbutadeadesceane @juli-ssi

[shadowwalkerimagines]

Hell’s Canyon

『 Hell’s Canyon: Run 1, Day 1: It’s You 』 Undertale - Convergent Mob AU | Sans (Various) / You; Papyrus (Various) / You; Reader Insert; Second-Person Point of View

Rating: M | Warnings for this fic: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dark Fic, Dark Themes, Kidnapping, Drug Use, Non-consensual Drug Use, Obsessive Behavior, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Imbalance

Summary: Hell’s Canyon is a city plagued by crime and poverty. You moved here a few years ago, intent on following your dreams and bettering your career—you had no plans to linger any longer than necessary, after all, but... This city doesn’t just let people go. Especially not when you manage to catch the eye of those that run Hell’s underbelly.

You better make the right decisions if you want to make it out of this city in one piece.

At the end of each update Readers are presented with a choice. It’s up to you to make the right one.

It has almost been five years (that’s half a decade) since you moved here and you find yourself regretting the decision more and more with each passing day. You had told yourself it would be temporary—just a quick stint while you worked towards a better position and a comfortable cushion in your bank account; surely a better opportunity in a better location would open up soon! But oh, had you been so blindingly naïve back then—not yet jaded by corrupt management, nepotism, and the extent people will go to to ensure they come out on top. Five years and so many opportunities for advancement you have been passed over. Empty words and sorry attempts at sympathy replay in your mind—

“Oh, I’m sorry dear, you just don’t have the right experience.”

“You’re just not what we’re lookin’ for right now. Maybe give it a go next time.”

“He’s just more knowledgeable in this subject matter than you; you understand, don’t you?”

You crumple the paper in your hand and toss it in the garbage. If you slammed the lid down a little too forcefully… well, it’s not like there’s anyone around to judge you for it.

You might have only read the first line but you didn’t need to read anything else. It would just be more empty words anyway.

Rejection was still rejection, no matter how nicely it was fluffed up.

* * *

There is only a half hour left before your shift is over and as you watch the hands tick ever so studiously across the face of the clock, you find your mind drifting to the mini chocolate cake packed away in the back of your fridge. You had gotten it as a little treat to yourself on your grocery run, a cheap little $5 thing from the grocery store bakery, but after today… well, you were most definitely looking forward to treating yourself.

A day full of dealing with self centered customers and coworkers that seemingly have nothing better to do than pass their work on to you really wears on a person.

You most definitely would be taking the opportunity to treat yourself! Now if only time would hurry up.

“Hey there, Trouble!” comes the voice of your coworker, causing your mood to immediately plummet. Not this asshole again. You try (and ultimately fail) to hide your disgruntled expression at the man you had been passed over for a full time position, who was then quickly promoted to a supervisory role. How the lazy, corner cutting piece of—no. No. Stop. Take a breath and calm down. Don’t let him know how much he gets under your skin.

“What is it, Robert?”

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that! How many times’ve I gotta tell you to just call be Rob?”

You purse your lips as the man immediately invades your bubble to slap a hand around your shoulder, his palm grasping at your shoulder, pulling you against him. You immediately slip out from under him. He’s always been annoyingly “friendly”—invasively so. You’re sure that’s how he managed to weasel his way into his position, despite all the errors and half assed jobs he would inevitably push onto you.

“I don’t know, Robert, but you can add one more to the count. What do you want?” You pointedly look towards the clock and thankfully, as dense as the man pretends to be, he catches on.

“I know, I know,” he shrinks in on himself and you just know he’s about to ask for a favor. You’re about to give him a firm and solid “No,” but he starts back up before you have the chance. “I forgot we had a really important order for a customer that was due for delivery today but Naomi already left and this has to be dropped off today—no exceptions.”

“Okay?” You quirk a brow, entirely unsympathetic. Surely he’s not asking you to take it on.

The silence that stretches along with the pathetic pleading expression he gives you is answer enough.

“No way,” you sigh out, running a hand over your face and pulling it through your hair. “I’m done in a half hour, that’s nowhere near enough time to make a delivery and make it back in time.” Even with as good a brownnoser Robert is, even he has never been able to hold any sway over Deb and her ironclad control of ensuring people clock in and out on time. “Aw, c’mon,” he pleads, “you can take your own car and just head straight home after the delivery—I’ll clock you out!” When you frown and narrow your eyes at him, he goes so far as to clasp his hands together. “Pleeeease??? I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

Yeah, like you haven’t heard that one a hundred times before. Another glance at the clock and you notice it somehow hasn’t even been five minutes. You heave a heavy sigh. It has been a pretty slow day, Robert could handle whatever came up in what little time remained (and if you gave a silent plea for the world’s most self-entitled, unreasonable customer with the most asinine of orders to come in… well, no one would know). You draw in a slow, heavy breath, hold it for a beat, and then breathe it out with a, “fine.”

It takes all your inner strength to keep from rolling your eyes at the little “whoop!” and jump Robert does. It’s not like you agreed to this with altruistic intentions—it’s the only way to ensure he will leave you alone.

“Great!” he explains at the same time he pulls a rather crumpled and crinkled looking envelope from his back pocket. He stuffs it in your hands and all but shoves you towards the back office, where your bag and the back door are. “The address is written on the envelope, just tell them you’re there for Bobbie!”

And the next thing you know, you’re standing in front of your car, a crinkled envelope in one hand and your bag in the other. You shake your head and blink a few times to clear the daze that overcame you, and proceed to fish out your keys.

“What in the hell was that about?” Sure the man always seemed to run on high but even for him that was a bit overly pushy. You ultimately decide to shrug it off, not nearly invested enough in the man to know the answer, as you get seated and remind yourself that Robert has always been weird. The sooner you get this delivery sorted, the sooner you can get to that cake waiting for you at home.

You cast a glance at the curiously beaten up envelope, squint at it, but when it doesn’t whisper the secrets of the universe to you, decide it’s not worth your job to pry.

* * *

You pull up to an unsettlingly empty looking strip mall. The parking lot is empty save for a stray car or two and most of the shop fronts have missing or damaged signage.

“Uh… did I get the address wrong?” With anxiety rising, you grab the beaten up envelope and read the address: 2435 Market Plaza, Suite 18. Staring back to the desolate shop fronts you acknowledge that it looks right… straight down to the numbers adjacent to each door. You’re sat in front of 12... there’s 13, 14, 15...

Something prickles along the back of your neck. Is Robert playing some kind of sick joke on you?

You need to make a decision. Do you…

[Check the suite?]

[Go home?]

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Bonus Chapter 1

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 12,577

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER  | | NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

"Do you think Kristoff is cute?" Anna asked, elbows propped on the table and chin in both hands as she watched the man in question from across the food court.

"You kiddin'? The dude's a hunkasaurus. Total dreamboat," Lea replied distractedly, not looking up from his current task. He was seated atop a different table, this one behind me, his feet perched to either side of me on the armrests of my chair as he played with my hair, slowly braiding and unbraiding it only to rebraid it again. "Better snap him up quick. If you don't slice yourself off a piece of that beefcake, I might beatcha to it."

My sister blew out an amused pft through her teeth as she looked over at him. "Sure, like he'd even give you the time of day."

"Oh-ho, trust me. If I wanted that boy, I'd have him."

"Anna," I sighed, interjecting myself back into the conversation. "Focus, please."

She blinked owlishly back at me, clearly having already forgotten my question. Or quite possibly not even having heard it in the first place. "...on…?" she asked at last, dragging the word out uncertainly.

I exhaled softly. "About Mother and Father?"

Her eyes darted to the left as she squinted and tried, "As in… do they think Kristoff is cute?"

My eyelids drooped and I gave a flat, "No."

Today found me with not one visitor on my lunch break, but two. Lea came as little shock. Even though he had the day off, he'd lately taken to doing his homework here in the food court whenever I was on the clock. That way, he could spend my lunches with me, not to mention score free ice cream throughout the day. Anna, on the other hand, had been an unexpected surprise, but always a welcome one of course. However, it was quickly becoming apparent that it probably wasn't really me she'd come to see.

Not if the way she kept eyeing my coworker as he ran the ice cream counter was any indication.

It'd been a few weeks now since her rather explosive breakup with Hans. Given that she normally got over past boyfriends in under a day, maybe two tops, the fact that it'd taken her this long to quit moping over him said something. But it seemed at long last she was back to her old, perky self again and all but wearing a "cute, single and ready to mingle" sandwich board sign. And apparently it was Kristoff's lucky day, for it seemed my sister had set her mingle-crosshairs on him as her latest conquest.

I didn't know whether to congratulate the guy or tell him to run. My sister would eat him alive.

Anna was now staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to elaborate. I bit my bottom lip, looking down as my fingers absently began to trace the snowflake pattern of my stockings. "I just… I was wondering… how Mother and Father were doing, that's all."

I'd still yet to speak to them since the little blowout at their house the weekend of Grandfather's birthday. If they weren't going to contact me, I certainly wasn't going to make any effort to reach out to them either. Still, I couldn't deny that it weighed on me a bit. I'd mostly been trying to keep my mind off it, trying to distract myself by throwing all my attention and energy into rehearsals.

She frowned then puffed out a heavy breath, causing her lips to flap. "Ya know, I'm not sure really… Fine, I guess? The same? They're not really on speaking terms with me since they found out about me and Butthead."

If you couldn't guess, that was her oh so charming nickname for Hans now.

Not to mention the only name anyone was allowed to refer to him as in Anna's presence these days.

"Ah," I breathed, fingers fidgeting with the hem of my work skirt. "...I see."

Her lips pursed to one side. "Now that I think about it though… them and Grandpa haven't really been on speaking terms either lately. But no clue if that's so much as his choice or theirs."

"Oh? Huh…" my brow furrowed and my head tipped to one side.

What could it mean?

"You should talk to 'em, ya know," came Lea's low voice suddenly as he hunched down next to my ear.

A tiny scowl twisted my face as I glanced over at him. He quirked an eyebrow back at me from beneath my Ice Palace cap, which he was currently wearing backwards. I huffed and crossed my arms, "If they want to talk to me, they know where to find me."

He snorted and sat up straight once more, his fingers returning to gently combing through my hair, eliciting a tingle in my scalp that made me shiver. "Someone has to be the first one."

"Yeah. Them," I harrumphed.

Now he pressed his lips to the back of my head before his hand ruffled my bangs. "You can be so stubborn sometimes, ya know that?"

No comment.

"Right!" Anna was abruptly hopping up to her feet and pumping a fist as she set her determined eyes on Kristoff once more. "I'm gonna march up to that boy and work my magic! Prepare to have your socks knocked off, you big sexy manbeast!" She then smoothed a hand over her hair, tugged on the neckline of her dress to flash a little more cleavage, and took one confident step towards the Ice Palace.

That was as far as she got before, "Hold it!" A hand shot out to snag her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. "We need to talk to you."

Anna blinked down at the offending hand, then at its owner, Rayne. She'd just shown up with a grinning and waving Kairi at her side.

Where'd they come from? I hadn't even seen either of them approaching.

"...me?" Anna asked, pointing at herself as both eyebrows flew up her forehead.

My roomie nodded then turned her eyes towards me to clarify, "Both of you."

Huh. This now brought the count up to four people dropping by to see me on my lunch break today. Never before had I been in such high demand.

Had I become, dare I say it… popular?

Dear god, I hope not!

Rayne's gaze narrowed on Lea. "Beat it, Red. This doesn't concern you."

"You beat it!" Lea shot back as his arms hugged me from behind, pulling me back against his chest. He made a small hmph that I more felt than heard as he rested his chin atop my head, "This is my El Time. You're not allowed to cut in on it, you live with her."

She rolled her eyes. "You two have plans together tonight once her shift is over, right?"

"So?"

"So you can give up five minutes of your precious El Time for me and Kai here to have a quick chat with her. Now go on, shoo," she dismissed him with a bored flick of her wrist.

He grumbled, "Ugh, fine. Looks like the kiddos just punched in over at Pizza Planet, so guess I could go grace their sad existences with my glorious presence." Releasing me, he pulled my elastic band off his wrist so he could tie my hair back into its ponytail. Then he was nuzzling his face into my neck, planting a quick peck there before whispering in my ear, "Be back in a sec. You'll miss me, I know, but try to keep the tears in check, hm?"

In response, I turned my head to kiss him on the nose… followed by smothering his face with my hand and shoving him away. He sniggered, pushing himself off the table.

"Hope you're ready to have your ass curb stomped tomorrow, Organization scum," Kairi slyly smirked at him.

"Big talk coming from someone's who lost the last two years runnin' now, Princess twerp," he tugged down his left lower eyelid with his middle finger and razzed his tongue at her before turning and jogging off, still wearing my cap.

Eyes flicking back and forth between him and Kairi, Anna asked, "What was that about?"

"Laser tag," I grinned softly as my gaze followed Lea for a second before I reached back to tighten my ponytail and glanced at the rest of ladies once more. "It's practically all he's been talking about for the last week."

"Mm-hm," Kairi nodded as she and Rayne pulled up chairs to sit with us. "It's also what we want to talk to you about. We're here to recruit you two!"

My head rocked back slightly. Then my brows knit together as my eyes darted about. Uh, heh… no thanks! Checking my phone, I stood up quickly, "Er… would you look at the time? I'm due back from lunch! I should go cloc-"

"Sit!" Anna snagged my wrist and jerked me back down into my seat with a firm thud. "You still got at least another ten minutes, liar!"

"Snitch," I grumbled back.

Lifting her chin with a smug little smirk, she looked back at the other two. "Please, continue."

"You know Space Paranoids, right? The laser tag place here in the mall?" Rayne began, addressing Anna more so than me, seeing as how I already had some clue as to what was going on, thanks to Lea. "Well some years back, a buncha us rented the entire place out for like a whole day and it was a total blast. We all had so much fun that we decided to make it an annual thing. More and more kept joining every year and as people kept getting more and more competitive, it wasn't long before two official teams were formed. Lea's group calls themselves the Organization."

"Such a buncha dorks," Kairi shook her head with a snerk. Then she was pointing back and forth between her and Rayne, "Our team is way cooler. We're the Princesses."

Anna bit back a grin and cocked one eyebrow at my roommate. "The Princesses? Really?"

She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, "Kai's idea. It stuck."

"Hey now. Princesses are cute and kick serious butt," Kairi cockily flipped her hair back over her shoulder.

"Anyway," Rayne chimed back in, "we thought this year those Organization losers were gonna have to forfeit because they were down two teammates that moved away recently. However, not only did those jerks manage to snag the mall security guards as replacements, but now we're down two people ourselves."

"Really? Who?" Anna eagerly leaned forward in her seat, thoroughly invested now.

"Me," she muttered, face twisting sourly as she gestured down to her belly. At five months along now, she was starting to look very much pregnant. She huffed indignantly, "Some people think it might not be safe for the baby."

By the tone of her voice, I was guessing "some people" included her husband.

"You are getting pretty big now, Ray-Ray," Anna snickered. "Maybe it's a good idea-"

"Shush!" she glared, striking up a finger in warning. "I get enough of that from Riku!"

Kairi spoke up once more, "Our other person who's out this time round is Ariel. She's got bronchitis."

I blinked. "Again?!"

"Again," she and Rayne groaned in unison. Kairi then beamed, clapping her hands together once, "That's where you two come in! Could ya please, please, pretty please help us outta this major jam here and top off our team? Whaddya say?"

"Sweet! Count us in!" Anna declared, excitedly balling her hands into fists in front of her chest.

"Correction. You can count her in," I touched Anna's shoulder, then placed a hand over my chest, "and me out."

Kairi's face fell, "But we need you!"

I snorted, "No you don't, I'm the last person you need. I've never played laser tag before. I've never even held a, uh… um…" I grimaced, floundering for the right word before saying lamely, "...laser… beam… shooter… thingie ever in my life!"

"You can just call it a gun, sweetie," Rayne cooed, reaching over to pat my hands.

"But that's the beauty of it! That doesn't matter! We don't need you to be good," Kairi argued before a tiny, wicked smile broke out across her face. "We just need you to take care of Lea."

My head tilted to the right as I frowned. "...Lea?"

Rayne nodded, "Yup! He's one of their best players, along with Xigbar and Saïx."

"Saïx?" I echoed, squinting at her. "You mean to tell me he's awake during the daytime for this?"

"There's three days a year that dude'll brave the sun, and our yearly laser tag game is one of those days. He takes it surprisingly seriously," Rayne explained solemnly.

Wrinkling my nose up at the ceiling, I inhaled and exhaled loudly. "I still don't understand how I'm supposed to help you with Lea, especially if he's as good as you say he is."

"Simple!" Kairi chirped. "You just need to keep him distracted! Mess with his head a lil. Throw him off his game just long enough for the rest of us to knock him outta the match early."

I furrowed my brow at her. "...and how exactly am I supposed to do that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" She gave me an impish wink. "Use your feminine wiles."

"My…?" A crease formed between my eyebrows now as I stared down at my lap. "...do I even have those?"

Kairi laughed, "Course you do! All girls have them."

"Yeah, even you, Sis!" Anna pinched my cheek. I shut one eye against it, swatting her hand away.

"Trust me, all Elsa has to do is exist around that boy and he's a total goner. He'll be eliminated so fast, he won't even know what hit him," Rayne muttered to Kairi, who nodded in agreement. Then my roomie was locking eyes with me once more, "So how 'bout it, sweetpea? Will you help us out?"

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. "I… uh…"

Anna nudged her shoulder with mine, "C'mon, Sis, pleeeeeeeease? I'm super friggin' pumped, this sounds like so much fun!"

Clasping my hands between hers, Kairi pleaded, "Help us, Elsa-Wan Kenobi! You're our only hope!"

"Well, I… er…"

Then they did it.

I was the victim of a triple-decker puppy-dog-eyes pout.

Perhaps I could have withstood one, even if it was Anna's. And maybe, just maybe I could've even resisted the combined force of two. But three?

I defy anyone to say no to that.

Shoulders slumping, I gave a long drawn out sigh. "...what time tomorrow?"

All three of them threw up their hands and cheered. After they took a few seconds to settle back down, Kairi said, "Don't worry, we'll get all the deets to you soon! And remember, you're our ace in the hole. Our secret weapon!"

A tiny gulp. "I am?"

"Yup! So don't breathe a single word of this to Lea!"

And breathe a word I did not. Thus, the next day…

"What the…? Oh, hell no!"

At Lea's outburst, I glanced towards him as Kairi, Anna and I walked out into the Space Paranoids lobby. We'd just been freshly geared up with blasters, half-helmets and vests - and by vests, I meant small, impossible-to-hit (at least I thought so anyway) targets over our hearts held in place by glow-in-the-dark, suspender-like straps that latched back behind our shoulders where a second target was located. The helmets also had targets on them, as well as see-through plastic visors that covered our eyes.

The lobby seemed to be split by an invisible line, with what looked to be the Princesses grouped up together on one side and what I could only assume was the Organization on the other, given that Lea was standing with them as he glared daggers at Kairi from across the room. She merely shot him a cheeky smirk and called, "Problem, beanstalk?"

He marched over, crossing enemy lines to glare down his nose at the considerably shorter redhead. "Uh-uh. Nope. Not allowed. I call foul. Objection!"

She snorted, unconcerned as she checked her nails and shrugged. "Dunno what has your panties in such a twist, big guy. Care to enlighten me?"

He jabbed a finger in my direction while still directing his snarl at her, "Get her outta here. She's not part of this, find someone else."

Kairi scoffed, "There's nothing in the rules declaring girlfriends off limits. In fact, there are no rules."

"Well there should be! In fact, I'll draw some up right this damn second!" he huffed, tucking his blaster into the back of his pants before storming over to a counter, behind which a pasty-complexioned employee currently stood. Lea snatched a pen off the countertop before stomping back over to us, angrily jamming his hand into one of his pockets and fishing out something crumpled. Then he slammed it to the wall and attempted to smooth it (without much success), uncapped the pen with his teeth and began scrawling across it.

"Rule 1…" he enunciated as his pen furiously scribbled, "...no… girlfriends…" He paused, then amended, "or boyfriends…" Another pause, then he scribbled it all out and started over. "Rule 1… no… smooch-buddies…" he underlined those first two words three times before continuing," ...on opposite… teams. Period. That's it. That's all… the rules." His pen stabbed down hard with finality before he shoved the crinkled thing with his handwriting all over it in front of Kairi's face. "There. Rules. Happy?"

Kairi dully stared at what he was holding, unfazed. Then her eyelids drooped. "...that's a napkin."

Lea rolled his eyes, "So what? Doesn't make 'em any less ironclad!"

She gingerly took "the rules" from him, eyeing them with a thoughtful nod for a second. Then she looked him dead in the eye as she ripped them in two, forcing a horrified gasp out of him as the shredded halfs fluttered to the ground. "Sorry, I don't recognize your napkin rules. She's playing, so suck it up."

He narrowed his eyes down at her. "I'm onto you. I know what you're doing."

"Oh? What, pray tell, is it that I'm doing?" she asked all sugar-sweet like.

His face pinched and there was a low, annoyed growl in his throat. Then he pointed two fingers at his eyes, then at her, then back and forth a few more times. "I see you, villain!" he hissed before turning away from her to address me now, his face and tone softening. "...can I talk to you real quick? Please?"

I fidgeted with my gun, struggling to keep a straight face after the sheer ridiculousness of the tiny spat I'd just witnessed, especially with them both wearing their little cheap, plastic helmets the whole time and looking absolutely absurd. At my nod, he slipped his hand into mine and led me over to an empty corner of the lobby where we could chat with some small amount of privacy.

"If those girls pressured you into doing this, you can ignore 'em, ya know," he told me quietly, shooting the Princesses one final scowl out of the corner of his eye. "You don't hafta do this if you don't want to."

I bit back a grin. He actually kind of looked adorable right now, sulking like an overgrown child behind that silly eye-visor he was wearing. It was hard to take him seriously. "It's okay. Really. I'll admit, I was a bit nervous and hesitant at first, but this also sounds like it might be kind of fun. It's fine. I want to play."

"But I don't want you to," he frowned, his fingers reaching out to idly fiddle with the tip of my braid. I don't think he even realized he was doing it. "...some of the guys don't hold back, El. Once that starting buzzer blasts, all bets are off and it can get pretty rough in there. You could get seriously hurt."

I slowly shook my head, "But the other girls-"

"-have played this before and know what they're getting into. You don't," he insisted.

I made a small hmph in my throat as my stubbornness began to spark. "How bad could it be? Really?" Glancing back towards the Princesses, I pointed out one of them in particular. "What about her, right there? She's, what… ten? Eleven years old? If you got grade schoolers playing, I think I'll be fine."

"She's one of their scariest players. Seriously, they hop that kid up on a mega shit ton of sugar from the Wonderland candy store until she's stark raving mad, then set her loose to wreak unholy hell in the laser tag grounds."

Huh. On second glance, the little girl did look twitchy. Almost freakishly so.

Sighing, I looked back up at Lea once more. "Look, I told Kairi and the others I would play, and that's what I'm going to do. I'd feel bad backing out now as I doubt they'd be able to replace me at the last second like this. I can take care of myself, you know. I promise I'll be careful, but I am doing this," I brought a comforting hand up to stroke his cheek, my eyes crinkling slightly. "So suck it up."

He snorted, dragging a hand along the nape of his neck and puffing out a heavy breath. "Fine, I guess I can't stop ya. But know this," he hunched down to my eye-level, tapping me lightly on the nose, "if we cross paths in there, don't think I'll go easy on ya."

"Good," I grinned back. "Neither will I."

"Oh-ho, pretty sure of ourselves, are we?" he smiled, rubbing a finger over his chin now. "In that case, care to put a lil wager on this?"

I turned my head to one side, shooting him some side-eye. "...I'm listening."

"How 'bout… whoever is the last one standing between the two of us, wins. And if I win…" his eyes hooded as he ducked down next to my ear, his voice silky and low as he continued, "...you ravage me senseless tonight. Maybe while wearing that lil mini skirt I like ya in so much."

My face warmed. Flirting was a part of relationships that I still wasn't fully accustomed to just yet. Hans had never really done it and it's not like I could simply brush it off as Lea's empty teasing anymore. Clearing my throat, I just asked, "And if I win?"

He gave a soft chuckle, nipping at my earlobe. "Then I'm the one who ravages you senseless."

A tiny smirk tugged at my lips. "...maybe while you're the one wearing the mini skirt?"

Lea shot up straight, eyes wide. Then he laughed, "Deal!"

I stared at him blankly. "I was joking."

"I wasn't. Be careful whatcha wish for," he singsonged, wagging a finger in my face. I merely drooped my eyelids at him and he snerked. Then his hand was cupping the back of my head, pulling me in for a sound kiss to the lips and murmuring, "Good luck."

"You too," my arms hugged his neck as I gave him a light peck in return. "You're going to need it."

"You have way too much confidence for someone who's never played before," he snorted and I just shrugged. Then we reluctantly parted and started making our way back to our respective teams.

I glanced around as I walked, getting a better look at the lobby. It had a very retro futuristic feel to it, what with all its hard angular lines that glowed neon blue and red decorating the walls, ceiling and floor. Even that pale employee behind the counter was dressed head-to-toe to match the room. His nametag read TRON - I had to wonder if that was an actual real name or (more likely) just the name he was assigned while on the job. On the wall beyond the two teams were a pair of doors, one that was dark grey and blue like the colors of the Princesses' helmets, while the other was white and red like the Organization's. I could only assume each group would enter through their matching door once the game was about to start.

Opposite the room from there was a wall made entirely of thick glass, through which could be seen the front desk where customers came in to sign up and pay for laser tag rounds. That area had several flatscreens hanging on the walls showing live feeds of various sections of the laser tag arena for onlookers to observe the match in realtime, so the place was currently packed with a small mob of people who'd come to watch our little face-off. It seemed this annual event drew quite the crowd.

While I didn't recognize most of the faces, there were a few familiar ones here and there. Aqua, Ventus, and Terra grouped together on one side… Yuffie and Leon on another… and over next to Sora, I could even spot Naminé there with a sketchpad in hand. I think she was drawing us players all decked out in our gear. And was that… Vanitas, of all people, trying to cozy up next to her? She seemed oblivious to him. Rayne, on the other hand, most definitely was not. She shoved her baby bump in between the two of them, forcing Vanitas to stumble back a step as she plucked Naminé's art pad from her hands and smacked the goth lord across the face with it. She then handed it back to Naminé, who just went back to sketching as if nothing had happened. Then Rayne was smiling and waving at me through the glass as Riku stepped up behind her to slip his arms around her waist and rest his chin on her shoulder.

As I waved back and took my spot next to Anna with the rest of the girls, I heard a wry voice coming from the enemy team, "Trouble with the lil missus, Flamesilocks?"

"Bite me, Cyclops," Lea snapped as he rejoined his team, his sour mood apparently resurging.

"Heh. As if," that same smug voice shot back. It belonged to a tall man with a jagged scar on one cheek and an eyepatch that looked rather odd to say the least when paired with his helmet's visor. His long black and grey-streaked ponytail swished as he then bent low into a dramatic, mocking bow directed towards another guy with long silver hair who I recognized as the supervisor over at Cinema XIII. "If I may do the honors, oh illustrious leader?"

The man - presumably their team captain - said nothing, just gave an uninterested flick of his hand.

That was all the go-ahead Eyepatch needed. Raising his voice so both teams could hear, he called, "Alright, listen up, scrubs! For most of you, this ain't your first rodeo, but I'll give a quick rundown anyhow seeing as we have a few first-timers in the ranks today. Here's the short and skinny of it: This first round - as in the only round that really matters - is one shot, one kill. Meaning all it takes is one hit and," he smirked, dragging his thumb across his throat, "you're out. Luckily for you gals, friendly fire has been disabled. This is where we separate the real men from the thumb-suckers. And there are zero points this first match, so when all you pretty, pretty Princesses are KO'd-"

"When?" Kairi sneered, narrowing her eyes at him from across the room.

He flashed her a toothy grin. "You hard of hearing, Strawberry Shortcake? Must be all that glitter and unicorns jamming up your earholes. Yes, when all you ladies are down for the count," he jerked his thumb to his chest, "we win. And for any boohooers out there who wanna play by points and multiple lives, don't worry. All the matches after this one are wimp-friendly. But might I suggest instead of relying on those lame handicaps, you all just get good like me?" he puffed up his chest, planting one hand on his hip while twirling his blaster in the other.

Suddenly the target on his vest lit up red and started beeping loudly, indicating he'd been hit. His assailant - a chick on our team with long, wild, curly red hair - lowered her gun with a snort before roaring with laughter while several of the other girls joined in.

Eyepatch chuckled, "Nice potshot, Hotshot. Save it for the game."

I had to wonder if this guy was Xigbar - one of the Organization's three best players besides Lea and Saïx, or so I'd been told. He certainly seemed cocky enough, that was for sure. Then again, cocky didn't necessarily mean he was any good.

As I eyed the other Organization members, I spotted a few I recognized from around the mall. The team leader wasn't the only one from the movie theater - that kid with the emo haircut was there too. So was Larxene, the blonde chick sporting the funky hairdo. I'd finally had a chance to learn her name, seeing as how she was assistant director in the musical I'd joined. The director himself, Marluxia, was there too, as well as Demyx who was helping provide our play's music and who also worked at The Blue Sitar, if I was recalling correctly. Then there was Roxas and Xion, who were doing their best to perk up a still slightly pouty Lea. Saïx was near at hand to those three, although he seemed to be keeping to himself and concentrating… or more like… meditating? Maybe... honing for the upcoming match? Wow, he certainly did take this seriously!

Next in the lineup were the two mall security guards who I'd met that night I'd accidentally pushed The Anger Button on the soft serve/milkshake machine - their names were escaping me at the moment. And lastly, there were two blondes. The first one had a goatee and piercings and I believe I remembered seeing him working at the magic shop here at the mall. The other one wore his hair long and had a chilly expression. I don't think I'd noticed him around the mall ever. In any case, I suppose there was a chance one of them could be Xigbar too.

A siren blast suddenly blared out through the overheard speakers, making me jump as the team doors slid open. Whoops and hollers from the players filled the room as they all started shuffling into their corresponding doorways. Anna hooked her arm through mine, flashed me a grin and dragged me along to follow the others.

"Don't worry, big guy, we'll try to return her to you in one piece," Kairi gave Lea one last parting shot. In response, he merely flipped her the bird as he disappeared through his door and all the Princesses erupted into cackles.

Beyond the doorway was a long winding hallway that got darker and darker the deeper we went, the only light source now coming from those neon glowing lines above, below and all around us. The further in we got, the more it began to look like we had somehow found our way inside a ginormous computer from the 80s. Eventually it brought us to another big room that was decorated in nothing but blue lines - our team's HQ, if I had to take a guess. There were three more sealed doors that would probably lead out to the rest of the map once they opened up, with huge, light-up timers over each one counting down until the start of the match. We had less than five minutes.

Quick introductions were made - I actually knew a handful of the Princesses already. There was Snow White and Tiana, who were in the musical with me. Aurora, who I remembered from auditions. Belle from Friday night drinks at the 7th Heaven. Then some girls I recalled seeing around the mall and was just now getting to know their names: Cindy from The Glass Slipper, Jasmine from Cave of Wonders, and Rapunzel from Hair, Here, Everywhere - gosh, how was she not going to trip over all that hair of hers while she ran around playing laser tag?!

"And this," Kairi went on, gesturing towards the redhead who'd landed a hit on Xigbar earlier during his little speech, "is Merida from over at DunBroch Goods, the camping and sporting goods store. She's our best shot."

"You're damn right I am!" she declared proudly in a thick Scottish accent. "And I've been putting extra time in over at the archery range! All those scaffy dolts aren't gonna know what hit 'em!"

Next Kairi was nodding towards the little twitchy girl. "This here is Alice. She's Luxord's baby sister from over on the other team." I smiled and Anna began to wave, but Kairi grabbed her wrist and lowered it with a subtle shake of her head, whispering, "Try not to make eye contact."

Apparently lost in the sugar-rush sauce, Alice just gave another twitch.

"And last but most certainly not least, this is Kida from Atlantis Electronics," Kairi pointed to a girl with long white hair and a blue face tattoo who grinned big, "annnnnnd Moana from Heart of Te Fiti, the lil surf outlet we have here." The chick with a mane of frizzy black hair next to Kida wiggled her fingers in greeting.

"Right, that's everyone! Now, onto the plan of attack!" Kairi clapped her hands and rubbed them together with an evil gleam in her eyes. "Everyone knows their positions except for the newbies. Anna, stick close to Alice and Punzie."

"Got it!" my sister nodded before giving a tiny squeal and bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Ahhh! I'm so excited!"

Kairi then looked to me, "As for you, you're with Merida and me. We'll keep you safe until we can track down your boy toy. Then it's all up to you to do your stuff!"

My forehead wrinkled. "My… stuff?"

"Ya know," she waggled her eyebrows at me. "Work that groove thang, girlfriend!"

...first it was feminine wiles. Now apparently I also had a "groove thang?"

I was learning so much about myself within the past twenty-four hours.

"Once you got him good and distracted and all puddy in your sweet lil hands, Merida and I will be sure to put him six feet under," Kairi smirked, squeezing one eye shut as she aimed her blaster and mimed firing it, shouting, "Blam!" before blowing the imaginary smoke away from the barrel and beaming.

"Blue combatants prepare to enter the Grid in sixty seconds," a synthesized female voice announced over the sound system.

Kairi glanced up at it, then added, "Now! Real fast before the game starts, let's show you ladies how these bad boys work!"

In the scant time we had remaining, Anna and I were given a quick rundown on how to aim and reload our guns. Then we broke into smaller groups that stood ready at each of the three doors that would soon open. As my teammates started giggling and counting down the final seconds in a loud chant, I swallowed hard.

All that confidence I'd been flaunting to Lea earlier? Yeah, nothing but talk. Now that the time was finally upon us, icy anxiety began to flood my veins and my free hand came up to twist at my braid. On its own, playing laser tag for the first time was scary enough since I really had no idea what I was doing. But all this talk tossed around about feminine wiles and, er… groove thangs? Wasn't helping. I wasn't sure if I could pull off what the Princesses were asking me to do.

...Rayne had said me just existing around Lea would trip him up. Maybe that would be enough? Maybe-

Another siren blast startled me once again and those big metallic doors slid open. Alice let loose a blood curdling war cry that was surprisingly loud for one so small before charging off out of her door. Anna mimicked her with a bellow of her own as she and Rapunzel raced after her. "Come on!" Kairi snagged my elbow and I staggered into a run between her and Merida as we exited through our own doorway with Moana and Kida bringing up the rear.

The place was an absolute maze inside. We took so many turns that it wasn't long before I was utterly lost and couldn't have found my way back to HQ if I'd even tried. Each new section we entered looked exactly the same as the last. It was all just dim lighting and those glowing blue, red, and now orange lines. Part of me was beginning to wonder if we were just running around in circles.

I could hear muffled shouts and digital blasts echoing from beyond the walls surrounding us, coming from somewhere that sounded far away and making me wonder just how big this map really was. Regardless, each zip and every zap that reached my ears had me flinching and almost stumbling over my own two feet as I ran. I was getting more and more on edge with every passing second.

Alright, Elsa, deep breath. In and out. Nothing to worry about. This is easy. This is fun, in fact… or so I'm told, anyway... Just relax and have a good time. It's a new experience. We like new experiences, right? New experiences are great. New experiences can be liberating. New experiences-

"Watch our backs!" Moana suddenly yelled.

I jolted and started to spin around to look back at her, "Wha-?"

She shoved me out of the way, getting us both around a corner to use for cover just as the sound of laser fire reverberated down the hallway we'd just come from. Breathing heavily, Moana gave me a firm nod and a fierce grin. "You're welcome!"

I just stared wide-eyed back at her, panting to catch my breath after all the running. Then she was ducking low and darting across to the other side of the hall, laying down cover fire as she went.

"Damn," Kairi hissed as she and the other two girls pressed their backs against the wall next to me. "How'd they get around behind us so fast?!"

"Embrace the nothingness!" someone roared from the other end of the hall before several blasts went off.

Returning fire, Moana called over to us, "Sounds like its Xemnas! He has someone else with him, but I can't quite make out-"

More rapid laser zaps cut her words off, followed by someone else snarling, "Grovel before me!"

Wait… I knew that voice… but no, there was just no possible way it could actually be-

"Crap," Kairi hissed, face turning stark white. "Saïx."

I stand corrected. Apparently, it could be and in fact was him.

Talk about being a completely different person! It seemed laser tag turned Saïx from Dr Jekyll into Mr Hyde.

As the gun fight grew louder around me, my heart began to pound in my ears, my knees shook, and my mouth went dry. I felt totally paralyzed and had to keep reminding myself that this was fun. Just... oodles and oodles of fun!

Oh dear, I was hyperventilating a bit…

...hyperventilating from all the fun, of course!

Kida was suddenly in front of me. I think she'd sensed my anxiety, because she was gripping my shoulder tightly and giving me a warm reassuring smile. "All will be well, Elsa," she told me calmly, soothingly… right before her face twisted ferociously as she leaned around the corner and shot off her blaster several times while letting loose a banshee shriek, making me flinch. Then she pulled back to reload and look me in the eye again, face serene once more. "Be not afraid."

...right. Okay. I came, I saw, I experienced… I'm done. Where's the exit to this ride? I want off.

To Kairi and Merida, Kida said, "The three of you keep going, find the target! Merida and I will keep them busy here and get them off your backs. Go!"

"Roger! Let's get outta here!" Kairi snatched my wrist, pulling me along with her. Merida shot off a few final blasts down the hallway behind us to help the other Princesses before dashing after us. I took one last look back to see Kida and Moana locked in a heated laser battle with our opponents before I lost sight of them as we took a sharp turn down a new corridor.

We hadn't been running for long when a tiny, red vertical slash lit up in the upper right corner of my visor. Huh… so these things had some kind of display built into them? But what did it-

The overhead speakers let out a long, resounding beep followed by that female announcer voice again, "Red combatant derezzed."

"Yes! We drew first blood! Take that, Organization trash!" Kairi crowed happily.

Ah, so the display was showing me a sort of… death count? I guess? I don't even know. There was a lot going on and I was just struggling to stay sane and-

"Freeze!" a new voice abruptly shouted.

So I did.

I froze.

Because, I mean, that's what you're supposed to do when someone yells that at you, right?

Apparently not. At least, not when you're playing laser tag.

"What are you- ugh, get down here!" Kairi was suddenly yanking me to the ground where she and Merida had dove for cover behind a low barrier just as I heard more blaster shots going off, presumably aimed right where I had just been standing like a deer caught in the headlights. Shaking her head at me, Kairi sighed, "Never fall for that. It's the oldest trick in the laser tag book. Vexen tries it every. Damn. Year."

As enemy fire abruptly died down, presumably so they could reload, Merida sprung up to her feet and released a torrent of zaps from her gun, roaring, "Choke on my laser, ye gutless, lily-livered bawbags!"

"Yeah! What she said!" Kairi popped up from our hiding spot as well to blast off a barrage herself.

Not wanting to feel left out and just now remembering I was in fact holding a gun that I'd all but forgotten about since the match started, I squeezed my eyes shut, lifted said gun up above the barricade and pulled the trigger, blindly firing several shots into the fray and hoping for the best.

Woo, look at me. I'm helping.

As my two teammates ducked back down to reload, Merida shouted, "Don't think I didn't see ye skulking behind that pylon, ye namby-pamby, scone-guzzling twat! Best get running with your tail tucked between those toothpicks ye call legs cuz we got ye outnumbered three to two!"

"My my, that does sound pretty grim for us, doesn't it?" a male, distinctly British voice called back. "But maybe the odds are more in our favor than you realize. By my count, we're the ones who have you outmanned four to three."

Merida and Kairi exchanged a look. Then Kairi scoffed, "You're bluffing!"

"Maybe… then again, maybe not… do you really want to roll the dice and risk it?"

Now Kairi lowered her voice so only we could hear her, "Definitely bluffing. Merida, let's go see if we can sneak around and get the drop on 'em." She then glanced towards me. "Stay here. I'll call out when it's safe for you to follow."

I blanched. "But-"

"You'll be fine, trust me. Just stay down, keep your back to this barricade, point your gun that way," she nodded towards the corridor we'd come from, "and pull the trigger if anything so much as moves. The advantage is yours from this position. We'll make it quick, so just keep your head down and wait for my signal." And with that, the two of them slipped off into the shadows and I quickly lost sight of them.

So I did as I was told. I stayed on the ground, knees hugged to my chest as I aimed my blaster and waited. There was a slight tremor to my fingers. The sound of blood rushing in my ears made it hard to hear much else.

Gosh, this was really just… so much fun.

It felt like an absolute eternity, but it was probably only seconds before I heard the fighting break out from beyond the barrier I was using for cover. Sounded like the girls had found them, as their maniacal laughter mingled with the digital blasts filling the air. Then Kairi was yelling, "We got 'em on the run! C'mon, Elsa!"

Jerking at the sound of my name, I scrambled to stand only to catch my foot on something and crash back down to the floor hard.

Ow.

Elsa, Queen of Grace and Dexterity.

Picking myself back up and dusting off the knees of my leggings, I ran towards where I'd heard her voice coming from…

...only to find no one there.

The area was completely empty except for me.

Fudge, they'd probably gone chasing after Vexen and that British guy, thinking I was right behind them. Which I would have been if I hadn't tripped over my own two friggin' feet. Worst still, I had no clue where they'd gone and three different archways to choose from.

Now what, oh Nimble One?

...should I just wait here and hope they come back for me? That'd probably be the smartest call. Better than blindly picking a direction to run off in and getting myself even more lost.

Several far-off blasts from behind me made me wince.

...then again, I was standing out in the open and an easy target. Maybe it would be better to just select a path, start running, and hope the next person I came across would be one of my teammates. But now, how to choose which way to go?

Eeny… meeny… miny…

More laser fire went off from behind, this time closer and making my heart leap up into my throat.

Screw it, that one, just go!

I didn't even know which hallway I'd picked, I just took off and didn't look back. My feet propelled me forward, not hesitating whenever new forks in the road appeared. I'd just take a turn on impulse and keep going. A left here, a right there, and another right. Far too soon however, I was puffing for breath. I couldn't keep this pace up, I needed a break.

As I slowed to a walk, sweating and chest heaving, I held my gun up at the ready. I was jumpy as I crept along now, twitching at every distant hollar, laugh, or laser burst. Something rattled behind me and I gasped, spinning on my heel and jerking my blaster around to point at… nothing. I narrowed my eyes and kept my weapon aimed behind me as I started inching backwards, heart jackhammering and breathing shallow.

If anyone was back there, they certainly weren't going to get the jump on me! No sir! I was vigilant. My eyes were keen, like that of a hawk! No one was going to be sneaking up on me, nuh-uh, not today, not-

"Pssssst."

The sudden low noise in my ear sent a chill running up my spine, making me yelp and nearly drop my gun. My hands desperately fumbled it for a second before catching it at last and I whipped around to target-

"Lea?!" I squeaked out.

Quite valiantly, I might add.

He'd already leapt back to put some space between us with his own weapon trained on the target over my heart.

So there we were. Locked in a mortal standoff. Our fated clash to the death would soon be upon us. You could all but hear the-

"You're holding your gun backwards, ya know," he said flatly, eyelids drooping.

...so I was. Heh… oopsie. I hastily corrected it, almost dropping it again before managing to direct the barrel at Lea instead of myself.

Now where was I...? Ah, that's right!

So there we were. Locked in a mortal standoff. Our fated clash to the death would soon be upon us. You could all but hear that whistling tune that plays in cowboy movies right before a pair of desperados have a shootout. Only one of us would be walking away the victor here.

...was it wrong that I was starting to relax and feel comforted by Lea's presence?

Yes. Yes it was. He was the enemy! And I had a job to do! To be fair, that job had only just been to play decoy while somebody else took him out. But seeing as how I was the only one here, looks like I'd just been promoted to executioner.

But now, how to get that killing blow? It wasn't just as simple as shooting. I could see the way he was warily watching me. I knew the second I started to squeeze my trigger finger, Lea'd be dodging out of the line of fire and then it'd be curtains for me. I had to catch him off guard first, distract him somehow or-

Ah-ha! This was it! The moment we'd all been waiting for! It was my time to shine!

Alright, feminine wiles… go!

...aaaaaany time now.

Hmmm… nothing.

Alright, you're up, groove thang. Care to take a crack at it?

...I'll take your silence as a no.

Well, fudge. Now what?

...wait! Hold on… something was possibly stirring…

Yes, I think I might be feeling a feminine wile coming on!

Oh yeah. This was definitely it. Get ready, here it comes…

I clicked my tongue and winked at him.

Nailed it.

Lea blinked at me. Then he snerked and choked back a laugh, shaking his head, "What was that?"

I hesitated, shifting my feet awkwardly. "...my, uh... my feminine wiles?"

Now he spluttered, struggling to keep his gun pointed at me. "El. Sugar-darlin'. Honey-boo. I adore you, you know I do. I worship the very ground you walk on and think you're smart, gorgeous, perfect and God's gift to all mankind. But babe… you wouldn't know a feminine wile if one came right up to you and bit you on the nose."

My spine snapped straight and I blushed. "I would too! I… I have feminine wiles!"

"Uh-huh, sure ya do. By the way," he pointed at a spot behind me, "what's that?"

I rolled my eyes at him, "You really expect me to fall for-"

In the blink of an eye, he'd kicked my blaster out of my hands and sent it clattering to the ground.

Huh. Guess he didn't even need me to fall for it. Apparently it was enough for me to just be irked at him for thinking me so easily tricked.

Crud, he was way better at this whole distraction thing than I was.

"Say goodnight, babydoll," he smirked, aiming his weapon at the target on my chest once again. I held my breath, screwed my eyes shut, twisted my face into a grimace, balled my hands at my sides and waited. Any second now, my target would vibrate and beep, announcing I'd been hit and taken out.

...only nothing was happening.

Why was nothing happening?

Slowly, I creaked one eye open. Lea was still standing there, still with his gun pointed at me… but for some reason, he hadn't pulled the trigger yet. Gone was the smug look on his face, now replaced with a tiny, sour frown. He grit his teeth angrily, his blaster wavering slightly before he lowered it and growled, "Goddamnit!" Then he ducked down and snatched my gun up off the floor, holstering it into the waistband of his pants at his hip.

I cocked my head at him. "Lea? What are you-"

That's as far as I got before he was then picking me up by the waist and flopping me over his shoulder like a rag doll. With one hand maintaining a grip on my legs to keep me secure while still holding his weapon in the other, he took off running.

I grabbed at the back of his shirt to prop myself up and turned my head so I could yell at him, "Just what exactly do you think you're doing?!"

He didn't break stride, just kept speeding straight ahead. "What's it look like I'm doing? I'm taking you hostage!"

"But that's not how the game is played!" I snapped back, making a grab for a metal bar sticking out of one of the walls as we rushed past, my fingers latching on.

He stumbled and nearly toppled over backwards, but caught himself. "Shit! Leggo, you lil..." he pried my fingers free before taking off again. "And I can play the game however I damn well like! Deal with it!"

Huffing out a grumbling breath, I just hung my head and let myself be carried off to wherever it was that he was taking me.

Turned out to be the Organization's HQ. I mean, that was my best guess anyway by the look of it, considering how similar it was to the Princess's HQ. The only difference was there were nothing but glowing red lines decorating every surface in here instead of blue.

"Now what?" I heard a voice unhappily mutter. Sounded like Larxene but I couldn't see her to verify, not with ninety percent of my vision being filled up by Lea's upside down backside and the other ten percent taken up by a lovely view of the floor.

"Whaddya mean, now what? What are you guys still doing in here?" Lea asked as he slid me off his shoulder and unceremoniously plopped me down onto one of the benches that lined the inside of the HQ's walls. I started to stand back up, but Lea narrowed his eyes at me and held a finger up in front of my face, "Ah-Ah!"

I sighed through my nose but stayed put, crossing my arms and slouching down into my seat.

Now that I could see the rest of the room better, I was able to confirm that it was indeed Larxene who'd spoken, with Marluxia in here as well. Larxene quirked an eyebrow at me but apparently decided not to comment just yet, instead opting to answer Lea's question. "We're trying to drag this dumb loser off his lazy ass and get him out into the fight," she ground out through her teeth, pointing at-

Oh! Apparently Demyx was in here too! Almost didn't spot him cowering behind that column over there.

Lea groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Crap, this again? He does this every damn year! We seriously need to stop recruiting him!"

"That's what I keep saying!" Demyx piped up. Or rather, his voice did. The guy himself remained in hiding.

"Dude. Why do you bother signing up every year if you don't even wanna play?" Lea shook his head.

"Because Larxene always threatens to taze me until my nose lights up brighter than Rudolph's if I don't," he whimpered, just barely poking his head out now. Then he seemed to spot me for the first time. "Oh! Hey Elsa!" he waved cheerily.

"Hi Demyx," I mumbled, returning a halfhearted wave myself.

Larxene slammed the sole of her boot against the column, making him squeak and hide again. She snarled, "This fuckwit's actually a halfway decent player whenever we finally manage to chase the damn baby out of his hidey-hole and-"

"Lea! There you are!" Roxas suddenly came barreling in through one of the doors, his sneakers skidding to a stop as he doubled over, wheezing for breath. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

Xion was hot on his heels, stumbling to a halt beside him and huffing, "You shouldn't have run off on your own like that! Why'd you come back- oh, hey there, Elsa!" she blinked at me in surprise, tilting her head slightly. "What are you doing here?"

Marluxia settled his cool gaze on me, "Yes… why indeed?"

Larxene pulled a face and spat, "Ugh, Firecracker! Please tell me you didn't sneak back here so you could make out with your little girlfriend! You seriously need to stop thinking below the belt all the time!"

"Agreed," Marluxia nodded with a frown. "You should learn to show some decorum. Xemnas will be most displeased when he finds out you were squandering precious game time to nurture your budding romance."

Shaking his head and rapidly waving his hands back and forth in front of him, Lea said, "Guys, guys, it's not- Ah!" he exclaimed the last syllable in warning to me as I tried to get up again to tiptoe off. Placing a hand on my shoulder and pushing me back down firmly into my seat, he addressed the others again, "It's not like that! I just-"

"We don't have time for this!" Xion cut in. "Why is half our team just chilling back here at the base? Get all your butts out there before everyone else gets slaughtered!"

Lea batted his hand through the air, "It's fine, Xigbar's out there! That psycho could take out the whole other team solo with one hand tied behind his back!"

As if on cue, two blue slashes suddenly lit up in the upper left corner of my visor opposite of the red one from earlier. Overhead, that synthesized female voice announced, "Blue combatant derezzed," twice, one for each mark.

"See?" Lea pointed up towards the speakers triumphantly.

"Wait…" Roxas's brow furrowed. "...those were the first two kills our team's gotten… meaning…" he was eyeing me now.

"Son of a… she's not dead yet?! Firecracker, you dumbass!" Larxene hissed, whipping her blaster up and aiming it at me.

Lea was quick to jump between her and me, his hands shooting up in a placating gesture, "Woah now, easy there!"

Not lowering her weapon, she yelled, "The hell do you think you're doing, bringing her back here alive?! Just shoot her already!"

"C'mon, give her a break, it's her first time playing!" Lea argued back. "I just wanna make sure she has a good time! She can't do that if she gets eliminated right out the damn gate."

Larxene made a noise of disgust in her throat. "You are seriously whipped, numbnuts. What'd she do to get you to fold like a wet paper towel, just bat her lashes and pout and go," she poked a finger into her cheek and mockingly cooed, "pwease don't shoot me, I'm just a poor, defenseless widdle girl!"

My shoulders tensed and I snapped, "I most certainly did not-"

"Butt out, Princess! This is Organization business," Larxene growled.

Roxas sniggered as he flumped down beside me on the bench, "Ignore her, she's just cranky."

"Yeah, we lurve you," Xion sat down on my other side, beaming and making a heart with her hands.

Lea was rubbing the back of his head with his gun. "Look, I just wanted her to have fun, is that so wrong?"

A scoff erupted from Larxene. "Yeah, sure, cuz getting taken hostage is so much fun!"

"More fun than being dead in the first five minutes!"

She was glaring down at his hip now, something having caught her eye there apparently. "Wait a minute, is that…? For fuck's sake, you brought her gun too, bonehead?! The hell is the matter with you, are you trying to get us all shot?!"

Rolling his eyes, Lea brushed it off, "Relax, I won't let her get her hands back on it. I just didn't want it to get lost or totally busted and for them to charge her with some bullshit replacement fee for the thing. And trust me: me taking her hostage is a good thing."

Larxene fixed him with a dull stare. "...I think your brain is what's lost or totally busted."

"No, hear me out!" He tossed a hand in my direction, "El is valuable to the Princesses and they know she hasn't been eliminated yet. Once they realize we got her prisoner, they're gonna make stupid moves trying to get her back. They'll be easy pickings!"

"It would seem to me that you're the one making stupid moves," Marluxia deadpanned.

Lea snapped his fingers and tapped his nose, "Exactly! That's why the Princesses'll want her back! To make sure she stays in the game and messing with my head! But if we keep her here and alive, then I'm less likely to screw up while the Princesses keep tripping all over themselves trynta to rescue her! It's a win-win!"

The silence stretched for a bit. Then Larxene sidestepped so she could point her blaster at me again, "I'm just gonna shoot her."

As Lea moved to block her again, Marluxia placed a hand on her weapon and gently pushed it down. "No, let's hold off. His plan, ridiculous as it may be, holds some merit. Let's see how it plays out."

Larxene wrinkled her nose and gaped. "You have got to be shitting me." However, Marluxia's stern look brooked no argument. Curling her lip with a tch, she grumbled, "Fine, whatever. But you!" She marched up to Lea, stabbing her finger into his chest several times, "This is your dumb idea, so your stupid ass gets to be the one to watch her!"

"Lea has so just earned himself a date with Larxene's taser after the match," Xion whispered with a giggle.

Roxas snerked under his breath as he looked to me, "Hope you like your boyfriends with enough electricity coursing through 'em to power a small toaster oven."

"What are you two twerps snickering about?!" Larxene turned her wrath on the pair of them now and they both yelped. "Get off your asses, get out there and bring me those Princesses' heads on pikes or don't come back all!" They leapt up to their feet and bolted out of there as if their lives depended on it. Which, let's face it… they very well might've.

Now Larxene's dark scowl zeroed in on the column that Demyx was using for cover as she snarled, "And you!" A terrified squeak could be heard from beyond the pillar. Muttering a long string of curse words, Larxene stomped over and disappeared behind it as well. Then there was a high-pitched scream before Demyx tore out of the base like a bat out of hell. Re-emerging and dusting her hands together, Larxene smirked with a satisfied sigh, "I do so love being part of a team. The feeling of encouraging and uplifting my fellow players can be so rewarding."

Retrieving her blaster from where she'd tucked it into the top of her pants, she glanced to Marluxia and jerked her chin towards one of the doorways. "Now let's go snuff out some Princesses!" However, as she was moving past Lea, she stopped to narrow her eyes at him. "...swear to god, Firecracker, if we lose because of your bullshit here, I'll-"

"Yeah, yeah, my head will be the one on a pike, I get it! Will ya just beat it already?" Lea lazily shooed her away with his gun.

She glowered but said nothing more, simply stepped outside the door and waited for Marluxia. As for Marluxia himself, he walked over to Lea and fixed him with a hard stare. "I trust when the proper time comes, you won't hesitate to pull the trigger," he told him, shooting a meaningful look my way out of the corner of his eye.

"Not for a heartbeat," Lea waved a dismissive hand. Marluxia squinted at him. "What, I won't! I hate losing just as much as you do, Mr Bubble Yum!"

If Marluxia felt reassured, he didn't show it. Regardless, he faced me now. "No hard feelings, of course. See you at rehearsal tomorrow."

"...looking forward to it," I muttered back as he slipped out the doorway to join Larxene, the two of them stealthily sprinting off.

Now that it was just down to the two of us, Lea glanced towards me with a tiny frown. Then he looked away and readied his weapon, poising it in front of him. He began patrolling from one HQ door to the next, keeping an eye out for any foolhardy, would-be rescuers.

The minutes slowly ticked by. Save for the occasional announcement whenever another player had been derezzed, the silence was absolute. Were this any other time, Lea would probably be cuddling up close to me and delightedly chatting my ear off. But not now. Not while there was a laser tag game to be won. Apparently, laser tag was very serious business. At least, if his expression and posture as he stood guard right now were any indicators, that is.

After a time, I released a low sigh. If anyone was trying to come save me, they were certainly taking their sweet time about it. I felt restless. My muscles were stiff from sitting still for so long. So, I gave a small stretch and began to rise to my feet.

In a flash, Lea had his gun's crosshairs centered on me. "Hey, hey, hey! Plop that cute lil butt of yours back down, Missy!" he ordered, gesturing the barrel of his blaster down towards where I'd been seated.

I hitched my chin. "The bench is hard and uncomfortable. Just let me stand and stretch my legs for a min-" I took a step forward and I winced, a soft hiss escaping me. "Ah, my ankle!"

He blinked, then his eyelids drooped. "Please, that lame ol' trick? Nice try, but I wasn't born yesterday."

"It's not a trick, I think I'm really hurt!" I huffed. Then setting my lips into a grim line, I gingerly tested putting some weight on it. "...you must have smacked it against something while you were manhandling me earlier and- ow!" My ankle gave out and I stumbled forward.

Lea instinctively moved to catch me, his arms wrapping around my waist while mine latched around his neck for support. But then his eyes were immediately suspicious and his empty hand clasped protectively over where he had my weapon holstered.

I rolled my eyes at him with a scoff. "You actually think I would go to this much trouble if I were only faking it? All just to get my stupid gun back? Seriously?"

He continued watching me skeptically, his hand remaining steadfast over my blaster. "...maybe, maybe not. Jury's still out."

"Damn it, Lea, this really hurts!" I snapped at him.

I felt his muscles relax somewhat as he puffed out a breath, bringing his free hand up to ruffle at his hair now. "Then why ya standing on it, dummy? Go on, sit back down."

"No," I turned my head to one side with a tiny hmph. "I told you already, that bench is uncomfortable."

"Whaddya expect, it's a bench. You'll live," he laughed incredulously. Then he was carefully shifting me around, mindful of my ankle as he took a seat himself to demonstrate. "See? Perfectly fine. Now c'mon El, please, if you would just-"

I finally sat back down.

Right on his lap.

I felt him tense beneath me. Then he was shaking his head with a chuckle as he brought up his hand to tweak my nose, "Cheeky."

Slipping my arms back around his neck once more, I drew in a deep breath before giving a pleased little exhale. "Ah, much more comfy."

"I would hope so," one corner of his lips twitched up. Then he was setting his gun down on the bench beside him and readjusting me in his lap a bit so he could more easily reach down, gently feeling my ankle. I flinched, sucking in a little breath. His eyebrows knit together, "Sorry… hm, doesn't seem to be any swelling, so probably isn't sprained or fractured. Guessing it just got banged pretty good. Probably only gonna leave a nasty bruise."

My eyes crinkled as I watched him. "...it's sweet."

"What's that?" he asked absently, still cautiously inspecting my ankle.

"The way you always take care of me." I leaned in closer to murmur into his ear, "It's sweet."

Lea stiffened, then cleared his throat as he straightened back up in his seat and laughed sheepishly. "What can I say? Gotta make sure my lady's taken care of!"

I gave him a warm smile before resting my head on his shoulder, my arms hugging more tightly around him as I sighed against his neck with a soft, "Hmmm."

He shivered and echoed a low, "Hm?"

"Nothing really." My fingers began to lightly toy with the hairs at the nape of his neck as my lips brushed along the side of his throat. "Just trying to think of how I might show you my gratitude later."

"...well, I might have a… few suggestions…" There was a gruffness to his voice now as I felt his thumb idly stroking along the curve of my hip.

"Mm, I'd love to hear them," I hummed a quiet laugh as I trailed my hand down his chest, avoiding the target strapped to it as I went. Then I lifted my head once more to meet his gaze while using my other hand to press a fingertip to his lips, silencing him before he could answer me. "But first… told ya."

His eyes hooded as he playfully nipped at my finger before ducking his head down to press kisses to my jawline as he whispered, "Told me what?"

"That I have feminine wiles."

His whole body went rigid. "Motherfu-"

Too late. I already had my gun back, barrel directly up against the target over his heart. I pulled the trigger and-

"Red combatant derezzed."

"Ha!" I dropped the blaster and shot up to my feet, hopping up and down in triumph on my fine, healthy, and one hundred percent pain-free ankles. Lea groaned and slumped down in his seat, thumping the back of his head against the wall a few times. His moping only made victory taste all the more sweet. Giggling, I lightly clapped my hands a few times before holding my palms together, pressing my fingertips to my huge grin.

My tiny victory party of one was interrupted however as someone else suddenly came charging inside the base. I turned and gasped as their feet came to a screeching stop, revealing the person to be none other than that weirdo with the eyepatch.

He took one look at me, both eyebrows shooting up his forehead. "What the…?" Then with a bemused smirk, he aimed his weapon at me, "Oh-ho no, not on my watch. As if!" He fired and, well… as you could probably guess…

"Blue combatant derezzed."

With a self-satisfied snerk, Eyepatch twirled his gun and took off running once more, disappearing out the door opposite the one he'd come in through.

...well then.

My stint as a legendary, professional laser tag assassin supreme may have been brief, but it had been undeniably glorious.

"That was a cheap, dirty underhanded trick ya pulled," Lea said, pulling my attention back to him as he stood up and removed his helmet, shaking out his crimson spikes. Then his lips stretched into a crooked smile, "One I completely saw through, by the way."

I arched an eyebrow at him, biting back a small grin. "Oh really?"

Tucking his helmet under his arm, he then reached out to undo mine as well. "Mm-hm! You were as transparent as a soap bubble."

"If I was being so obvious, why'd you play along then?" I challenged, crossing my arms.

"Rather, the question you should be asking is... why wouldn't I play along?" He ruffled my bangs before offering me my helmet with a wink. "Never have I more thoroughly enjoyed being proven so totally wrong."

I felt heat creeping up the back of my neck as I took it from him, averting my gaze with a dignified sniff. "I don't believe you. I don't think you saw through it at all."

He snorted, scratching a finger behind his ear. "Alright, ya got me. Can't blame a guy for trynta salvage what lil dignity he has left! But damn, El, you've been holding out on me. Where've you been hiding those lil moves of yours this whole time?"

Rocking on my heels a bit, I mulled over it for a second. Honestly, I'd even surprised myself a bit there. Only reason I hadn't been blushing furiously the whole time was because I wasn't really here to fraternize - it'd just been a means to an end. I'd had a job to do. Finally, I gave a tiny shrug, "Suppose I just needed the right incentive."

"That incentive being making me eat crow on this most holy of battlefields that is laser tag."

I smiled brightly. "Bingo."

He crinkled his eyes at me, then sighed and dragged a hand across the nape of his neck. "Shit, the rest of the team is gonna be out for my blood when they find out 'bout this. We're talking torches, pitchforks, the whole nine damn yards." However, he was next flashing me that dimple of his as he retrieved both our weapons, holding them together in one hand. "Still, was definitely worth it for this lil revelation. I'm telling ya, never woulda thought you had it in you, especially not while we were entertaining an audience no less."

"An audience?" I repeated, frowning. Then I slowly shook my head, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Did you forget?" A half grin tugged at his lips as he pointed up at a corner of the ceiling where one of the arena's cameras could be spotted. "Big Brother's watching."

Just about every last drop of blood drained out of my face.

Fudge, the cameras! All over this damn arena! Feeding a live stream of events as they unfolded here back to anyone watching in the store front! And there had been a lot of people there, meaning…

...every single one of them had just had a front row seat for watching me seduce my boyfriend.

Bolting behind Lea to hide from the camera, my arms clutched around his waist as I buried my now roasting face into his back.

Oh, what I wouldn't give for the cold, sweet embrace of death right about now.

Laughing softly, Lea patted his hand over mine, weaving our fingers together but not removing it from where I still had it clasped against his stomach. "C'mon, we're not s'posed to linger this long after getting KO'd. Let's find a way out. Your adoring fans await."

Remaining firmly latched onto him from behind, I staggered as he began to lead us towards the nearest exit. "I don't think I can face any of them ever again," I muffled into his back. "I am never going to live this down."

"Well, we can hole up in one of the equipment rooms between matches, but that'll only buy you a lil time. Sooner or later they'll hafta kick us out when this place closes up for the night." As he pushed open a door beneath a glowing green EXIT sign, he glanced back at me over his shoulder with a smirk. "But you got bigger problems to worry 'bout now, boo."

I glanced back up at him, gnawing on my bottom lip. "...what do you mean?"

"Now that I know you've got feminine wiles, I'm gonna expect you to start using 'em more."

Author's Notes: It's the face-off of the century, the battle you've all been waiting for… Organization XIII vs The Princesses of Hearts! Gosh, now I want fanart of all of them decked out in laser tag gear and glaring each other down! Could look hella badass! Anyhoo, I think this chapter might have been even more jam-packed with references than that 7th Heaven chapter xD I went with OG Org as you can tell cuz, one, they're my fave incarnation of the Org, and two, let's face it… old man Xehanort would probably break a hip playing laser tag xD And of course, all the official Princesses of Hearts made an appearance, plus a few extras, any of which would get my vote for being one of the mystery New 7 Hearts that were never revealed in KH3! Minor fun fact: If you didn't recognize them, Xemnas's and Saïx's lines were direct battle quotes from the video games. I would've liked to have done the same for Vexen, but I couldn't figure out how to make any of his battle quotes fit, so I took the lame, cheesy way out by just having him shout "Freeze!" xD As for which team won this first match… Princesses finally managed to break the Organization's winning streak, woo! Yeah, Lea barely survived the wrath of his fellow teammates after their crushing defeat xD  I was originally trying to figure out a way to fit this laser tag chapter into the main story, but decided in the end it would be more fun if Lea and Elsa were already a couple for it - certainly had more fun with the chapter's ending that way at least ;D

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

See ya next week for the next bonus chapter, which will have a lil more substance than this one xD Your clue phrase this time is... hair dye. What could that possibly have to do with next chapter?! Stay tuned and find out!

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[arsenicetvieillesenseignes]

La sonnerie aigrelette retentit, tandis que dehors l’automobiliste pressé faisait des appels de phares. Un nerveux. Un Parisien. Ils étaient six en java dans une vieille Simca pourrie. Deux nénettes qui se faisaient peloter et quatre mecs complètement allumés. — Alors, esclave, fit le chauffeur, c’est pour aujourd’hui ou pour demain ? — Combien ? demanda Bensoussan sobrement. — Le plein. Tandis qu’une des nanas se lançait dans un long ululement hystérique, deux mecs se mirent à rythmer sur les portières un air de reggae qui sortait de l’autoradio poussé à fond. Bensoussan connaissait ce genre de largués, chercheurs de salades. Par le biais du rétroviseur, le chauffeur ne le quittait pas des yeux. Bensoussan le sentait. Ne pas regarder. Il ne savait que trop ce qu’un simple coup d’œil peut avoir parfois de provocateur. Prudent, il décida de n’accepter que de l’argent liquide. C’était le genre de loulou à payer avec un chèque en bois. Ou à ne pas payer du tout. Cloc, fit la pompe qui en avait à ras du goulot. Vroummm, lui répondit soudain l’embrayage de la Simca en s’arrachant au ciment de la station-service. Ils étaient déjà dans l’avenue Philippe-Auguste que la pompe lui pissait encore sur les pieds. C’était le genre à ne pas payer du tout. (Alain Page, Tchao Pantin, 1982).

Coligny, Ain.

[scowiosis]

I hadnt even considered the possibility of vlad actually succeeding for real but that would be so good! Vlad would obviously use underhanded methods (mind control or something that makes the wearer trust more easily or maybe even doing a memory wipe on danny and starting with a clean slate?) but clockwork going absolutely ape shit on vlad afterwards with Offensive time powers????

That opens a whole new realm of possibilities; since he cant stop time to affect vlad, he’d probably have to do something more creative like speeding time on himself to move faster; distorting time around vlad instead of on him to mess him up; pariah cant help with fighting vlad cause hes dealing with the observants so when pariah comes back to see clockwork behaving so much like the chaos the ancients spawned from (rather than the cool and controlled “all knowing” time keeper) hes gonna be flustered

I cant see clockwork actually going through with killing vlad but ghost jail? For ghost crimes? That would make sense

The unlucky observants who had to deal with pariah on the other hand… yea, theyre gonna be more dead than they already were

Meanwhile danny’s ghost friends/enemies would be working with sam, tucker, and jazz to help him gain his memories back by traveling to the place where forgotten things are found (in fanfics i see ppl reference a river that makes you forget? So there must be a place where youre able to access what you’ve forgotten) and this is where danny has to do some internal work to find his memories and also ends up learning the memories of his past life

I imagine that danny, even without memories, would still be connected to clockwork and pariah (since they havent been destroyed) and feeling hints of their anger (and anxiety?) and would feel off or wrong about being with vlad in a way he cant figure out. He was told to stay put while vlad took care of the things he had to do, but of course it doesnt go like that cause danny doesnt listen and ends up trying to figure stuff out for himself

And then, with danny having his memories from both lives, the conflict between his feelings for his original parents vs his human ones will come into play and he feels like he has to pick between them and he really wants to go with his ghost parents cause they treat him so well, but he feels bad just abandoning his human ones and his feelings might be more complex depending on where the fenton parents on the bad to good parents scale for this au

What are your thoughts on how the fenton parents are for this au?

Danny waking up to see pariah proposing would be hilarious and i think it would be highlighted even more if thats a memory he has from his past life; pariah, known for proposing to clockwork again and again whenever his emotions towards clockwork get the best of him; pariah being a romantic at heart kinda guy and clockwork being mischievous would create fun dynamic too

With everything going on and danny being in the center of it, theres the potential for an identity reveal

If the fentons try to “protect” danny from the “evil ghosts” who are very obviously after him, it would create problems cause danny doesnt want either of them to get hurt; and then there’s the question: do the ghost weapons actually cause damage to the ancients? Or are they so high level that the ghost weapons dont do anything but sting a little?

Then theres the entirety of amity park watching this go down on the news and seeing danny fenton in the center of it; an identity reveal seems almost inevitable really cause how else would danny explain this situation (with the truth or a really bad lie made under pressure)

I love the idea that fright knight is just done with the whole thing and going along cause its related to his obsession to serve the king (maybe? Idk yet why fright knight serves pariah) and, when hes not being forced to baby sit, hes just enjoying the chaos unfolding

Not sure whether fright knight would be helping pariah take down the observants, back up clockwork when fighting vlad, or be accompanying danny, sam, and tucker but most likely the latter cause of pariah and clockwork wanting their safety

My head has been on blast with ideas after reading your post about danny being clockwork and pariahs kid reincarnated; there is so much potential with that

Clockwork and pariah being mad at the observants cause they had to have known that danny was their kid reincarnated and must have blocked clockwork’s sight so he wouldnt realize that danny is his kid so he would actually end up killing danny, but danny reminding him so much of pariah made him reconsider and also after losing a kid he wouldnt dare take the life of one if he could avoid it

Of course the observants would need a reason to want to have danny killed and maybe its cause they knew that if he wasnt, that theyd be found out and murdered so they keep trying to get him killed and are hostile towards danny in most interactions; maybe the even staged the whole thing that lead to him becoming evil so that theyd have a reason to have danny killed?

Then theres finding out what really happened that caused danny to get killed in his past life and getting justice for that

Im thinking that pariah’s more of an ancient than a ghost of a person since hes with clockwork; his obsession would probably be something related to justice and order and having his kid die? With an obsession related to justice? It would make sense for him to go to the extreme with it and seek vengeance and justice for his child

The potential for this whole thing to be orchestrated by the observants who saw that, if the timeline continued as it was with pariah having a good reign as king, that theyd lose power and, cause they didnt want that, they had planned on killing pariah but, as you stated, that fails and they realize that killing the kid would grant them the same effect and going for that or maybe danny wouldve died cause he tried to protect his dad? Depends on how old he is when he’d died; i think you said he died young so theres the guilt potential if he wasnt old enough to have his own persona yet (like a toddler or elementary school child) but then there’s also the guilt potential if hes a rebellious? Or reckless? Kid whos trying to get the attention of his (too busy) parents so when he catches the attack on his dad of course he tries to stop it and dies and then theres the potential for parental guilt due to this

In the later scenario, it’d actually be better if the observants didnt plan to kill the child and, because it happened, they realized they could take advantage of the ensuing fallout that ultimately leads to pariah dark being sealed away, the observants retaining their power, and clockwork being so focused on his duty and his grief that he doesnt really try anything to stop them

The observants potentially having a hold over clockwork due to some oath form the past would add to the plot and make it so its not just easy destruction; pariah having to redeem himself to the allies he turned against and no longer having the power of the crown or ring of rage would also be important for creating a fun and interesting plot

I love the idea of danny just going with the flow of it cause his core makes him trust them; there was a fanfic i read a long while back where danny was the reincarnation of a prior heir to the ghost throne and how he had started getting dreams that felt like memories or had things that occurred that reminded him of certain things from his past life; im almost wondering if this would be a fun addition to this au or if he’d be too young to have memories at all from his past life

Then theres the other ghosts realizing theyd fucked up big time which is hilarious cause on one hand, angry pariah and clockwork, but also danny wouldnt let them harm the other ghosts so theyd obviously relent for their baby boy; but maybe there’d be some kind of camaraderie that occurs due to this? Maybe skulker helping them uncover the truth or something like that? Idk yet

But the whole plot with the fentons??? That’s gonna be crazy and no doubt stressful for danny cause on one hand, his parents are all he knows even though he knows they arent the best; but on the other hand, clockwork and pariah treat him well and he feels safe with them and something about them is so familiar and he doesnt quite understand it; im wondering if maybe his appearance will change now that his core is connected to his parents? Then theres the ghost biology stuff to consider; is he absorbing ectoplasm from his parents now that the connection is there? Does he gain powers that his parents have due to this? Does he get more powerful now that his ghost half is eating properly?

And when he learns whats going on?? That’s gonna be a lot for him to digest; of course danny wants to help his parents again but theyre wayyy more protective this time around so danny, being who he is, will most definitely get into shenanigans that he shouldnt be getting into which both stresses out clockwork and makes pariah proud cause hes so much like pariah even if he doesnt remember everything

Dani getting added into the mix later on and clockwork and pariah being ecstatic about it; then that creates the question of how are ghost children formed? Their two ancients formed of ideas; is it something that happens cause they wish for it and the ghost zone answers their wish? Is it a sharing of ectoplasm that forms another being that they nurse until it forms into its own being?

And of course, with the fentons being as they are and clockwork and pariah not being cool with it, there’d be the anxiety that danny would have to go through with managing how to handle that whole scenario and being conflicted about what to do; im sure jazz would be involved with this in some way or form as he figures out how the family situation is going to be after this

Id love to hear your thoughts on this!! Also, are you planning on writing a fanfic about it?

No pressure if you dont want to respond!

Hey there! Thank you so much I’m glad you like the AU idea. Sorry I am not planning on writing a fic on this AU sorry.

Yeah I thought that somehow Clockwork’s sight being blocked, like the Observants saw that and put all their effort into making sure that one detail could not be seen, like instead just being static.

The observants would probably want Danny out of the picture because if CW and Pariah find out about him being their kid then that would encourage them to work together again and be a united front and if they worked together again all the other ancients could follow and all the ancients together against them could overthrow them (It’s why they were most definitely not so sad about Pariah going mad the first time after all CW was broken after losing his son and husband and defiantly less inclined to ’act out’ and all the other ancients split apart and the observants were still in power)

I don’t think they’d have been able to interfere and act on making Danny into Dan but definitely saw that one future and pointed it out to clockwork the one who could interact and try to make sure he’s taken care of and pushed very very hard for CW to ‘take care of it’ him not was worrying but…. CW met the boy and didn’t realize so they didn’t think there was a way for CW to realize, both parents met him and didn’t realize they must have gotten off scot-free…and then Vlad did the core thing.

YES! Pariah being a ghost of order/justice is so good him losing his Kid pushing his obsession his domain/powers to the extreme and him becoming a tyrant that is such a good idea.

I defiantly pictured Danny being a toddler or very young child killed in some almost assassination against Pariah…which would totally feed into that justice/order obsession or even protection obsession.

(Or perhaps Ghost Hunters which would make things so interesting with the Fenton’s)

I think the observants didn’t plan but totally took advantage of it like I said before it fractured the ancients and ensured their continued position and power…. It’s why they didn’t exactly warn either parent about what they observed or the possibility.

 Oh clockwork having a vow to the Observants is so interesting, and that fic sounds really cool.

Oh yeah all the other ghosts realizing and freaking the FUCK OUT, they would totally help Pariah and Clockwork out and please Phantom tell them not to kill us…please.

Oh yep the Fenton thing would be very awkward (Especially if it was ghosthunters who killed Danny before) he’d defiantly develop different powers maybe completely different from both parents (He could have space powers maybe that would play into the space obsession Danny AU’s) I think he was already much more powerful than an average ghost or halfa but the core connection definitely speed the powers up.

Yeo all of this would be a lot for him, but at least now support structure to help him with everything, 2 very overprotective parents (Overprotective being an understatement) ….and fright knight stuck as babysitter/bodyguard, Fright Knight is stuck keeping Danny out of shenanigans and that is a full-time job and if he wasn’t already dead he would have died of the many heart attacks Danny has given him.

Clockwork is stressed but overly fond because yeah Danny is much like Pariah and him but also stressed out because oh god he’s so much like Pariah and him. Pariah is the parent whose told your son got into a fight and asks did he win? (Although either way he would obliterate whoever fought his son)

Yep Dani getting to the mixed would be so fun. Not sure about the ghost thing maybe core’s mixing between mates?

I can see Jazz somehow getting adopted by Pariah and CW to, her looking over the political state of the infinite realms and coming up with ideas.

Thanks the ask sorry if I didn’t answer everything I’m so glad you like this AU idea =)

[itsawinwin-ren]

“Promise 2011″ | EXO FAN FICTION (semi-AU) | Ch. 3: ‘Some Harm, All Foul’

“Good freaking luck!? You crazy, batshit, insane, mental asylum PSA, Looney Tunes, lost marbled, wizard, psychic, witch, hag, ahjumma woman! I swear to God.” I can't even think about anything else but getting to my dongseangs… IF they are even here. I'm not even sure I'm in Korea at this point, or if I'm sitting in a nut house somewhere hallucinating all of this. I start to read down the page as I cross the street, and I stop suddenly being honked at by a taxi that almost slams into me. “YAH! I'm walking here!” I scream in irritated Korean. I begin to jog my way across the rest of the street. I crumble the “rules” paper and envelope up and throw it in my purse for now. I’m obviously and thankfully still the 2018 version of myself, as I remember Korean, which I didn't know in 2011. Helpful. I glance in a store to see my reflection as I'm rationalizing. Well, I still look my current, I mean, my future age? … 25 not 18 or 19. Great. I also remember the last 7 years, or… the next 7 years into the future from my current position in the timeline? My head hurts from this time travel and alcohol hangover. I'm thinking too hard. I’m NOT Martha McFly goddamn it all! I see the store I tried to buy the aspirin in; I know I'm getting closer to the alley I woke up in. I take a quick glance at the magazines on the street vendor shelves and I'm remembering things from this time in my life. Things I haven't thought about in a long time. This is SO surreal. My eyes light up as I see the old man that was trying to aggressively get me out of his alleyway earlier, sweeping the front of his store. I dodge out of sight, I don't want him to yell at me again. No, thank you. I wait until he's not looking and I dive back into the alley. I look around where I woke up trying to find my friends. On one hand, I don't want them here. It's dangerous and crazy. But on the other hand, I'm hoping I don't have to do this alone. Plus, I don't know if what I do here could make it to where I don't even meet them in the future at all. My head is throbbing from all of this thinking and inner monologue. “Meg?! Natalie!?" I yell walking further down the long alley, my shoes tapping the broken pavement; echoing off the walls. “Lexie?! Are you here!?" I'm beginning to panic the longer I go without finding them. What if they are here, but they got “dropped off” somewhere else?! There's a whole world they could be in! I start to feel a panic attack coming on and I have to stop to slow my breathing. I rest my forehead on ad brick wall closing my eyes. “Unnie?” I hear the most beautiful voice I've ever heard coming from the other end of a dumpster a few feet away. “Lexie! Holy hell! Are you okay?!” I run over to her and drop down on my knees. She's sitting upright against the wall. I pull off my thin jacket and put it around her shoulders, then I wrap her in my arms. She hugs me and chuckles. “Unnie, I've never drank, but is this what a hangover feels like?” “Oh baby, probably…” I laugh with a few tears in my eyes. “What happened? Why are we outside?” “I… you don't remember anything?” She shakes her head. Oh boy. “Okay, well-“ “UNNIE! LEXIE!” I snap my head down to the opposite end of the alley from where I woke up, and my tears double down my face when I see Natalie and Meg coming our way. “Baby, are you OK?” I quickly ask Lexie, who's still sitting on the ground in my arms. “I think so, unnie.” “Okay, I'll be right back! Just… Don't… Move… Okay?! K…” I smile at her standing up. I turn back to the direction of my other dongseangs and begin to run to them. Meg seems to be holding Nat up with her arm around her waist, and Nat’s limping. I immediately feel guilt. I did this to them. Me and my stupid, pathetic love for a man that doesn't even know of my existence! If I do meet you Park Chanyeol, I'm probably going to sucker punch you. Hard. “Holy crap, I'm so glad you guys are OK!” I pant flinging my arms around both of them. We hug each other tightly. “What happened?” I motion down to Nat’s foot she's elevating and I get on the other side of her, assisting Meg with the transport. We start to move slowly back to Lexie who is standing up, dusting herself off. “We're not sure. We both woke up over there behind that building… back there.” I look behind us at the back of the building where the 4 buildings’ converging back alleys are. One of the buildings has a gate and barbed wire surrounding it. Well, that's not seedy at all. Nope. “Well, she could have dropped us off somewhere less shady…” I whisper under my breath. I'm not sure they realize yet what really happened here. I want to break it to them gently, even though, I don't quite yet understand or accept this situation entirely myself. We meet Lexie halfway and she joins in with another family group hug. “Nat, are you OK? Meg?” “Yeah, we're OK, Lex Mex. I'm not sure how I sprained my ankle. Did we help you finish your bottle of whiskey last night and pass out back here? This feels like a massive hangover or something.” Nat laughs a bit. I bite my lip in response. Not even close. “Yeah, I feel like I got hit by a bus.” “I'm not sure. I don't think so.” I reply nervously kicking some rocks with my red Converse. “And not a bus, Meg. A giant clock maybe…” I have poker face as I trail off and I try to not bust out laughing. What? If I can't joke in this situation, what else can do?! Cry? Scream? Pray? Ball up and refuse to life? No. Not my style. “I don't like this at all.” I squeeze Lexie's hand to reassure her. “Unnie what? A giant cloc- wait, where's my phone?” Meg pats herself down and looks around frantically. We join in looking along the alley heading back to where they woke up. I decide to wait a bit to tell them what I think is going on. I know they'll try to throw me into a psych ward or rehab when I tell them. They'll have to come to my conclusion on their own… hopefully they'll accept this reality so we can move on faster to find a solution. We get to the middle of the back of the 4 buildings and after 5 minutes of looking, I spot her phone on the ground in some tall grass next to the fence with surrounding barbed wire. “Oh, Meg, I see it, hang on. I'll get it.” I unlatch my arm from around Nat and Lexie and trot over to where I saw the phone. Every second I'm outside, I'm getting more and more cold. My lips are trembling uncontrollably. I’m not really paying attention as I lean down to pick up her dead phone. Bam! I suddenly fall backwards, throwing Meg's phone, when some sort of ball hits the chainlink fence right near my face. I'm about to unleash hell on whoever threw that at me, which I now see is a soccer ball that's rolling to a stop on the pavement over the fence. My head throbs in response to the sudden stimuli. “Yah! Chincha?! Can't you see I'm on an important cell phone recovery mission?!” I say to anyone who’s listening on the other side of the fence as I stand up furiously dusting off my behind and black skinny jeans. “Oh! I'm so sorry. So sorry!” A voice says in Korean from over the fence. I glance over at him and he's bowing profusely; he's got his hoodie over his head concealing his features. “Yeah, you better be.” I mumble. 2 more guys run over to him and begin to bow and apologize too. “It's fine, really. It just scared me. No harm, no foul, guys.” I say in Korean, as I'm picking up Meg's phone again. I figure I'll need to speak Korean from now on. At least to the people here from this time. “We were just playing some soccer on break! We're sorry again, noona.” Noona? Well, thanks for assuming I'm older than you, you little brats. “Really…” My teeth are chattering, “it's okay.” I finally look up and my breath catches midway up my lungs making me cough and choke a bit. After composing myself, I squint at them. This isn't happening. “Aren't you cold? Don't you have a winter jacket? You're already getting sick!” The tall, lanky one says throwing the ball up in the air over and over. “Uh, yeah. I just, um… got into town. I wasn't expecting South Korean winter weather to be perfectly honest. Do I know you?” Fortunately and unfortunately, I know exactly who they are. “Probably not!” The smallest of the 3 says to me. “I'm Baekhyun, this is Kris hyung…” He motions towards the tallest, “and he's Chanyeol. What's your name?�� “I… uh… I… Ren, Ren Baek. Baek Ren. Baek Seoyeon. Laur- Ren. I'm Ren.” I can't even get out my freaking name in this tornado of a scene. But, on the bright side, they now know my name and that I exist. Progress! I TAKE IT WHERE I CAN GET IT, PEOPLE. Touché gypsy ahjumma. Touché. I look back at my dongseangs still standing at the entrance to the alley talking amongst themselves and then back to the 3 SM rookies behind the fence. I literally have no idea what to do at this point. These are definitely not the seasoned, egotistical, untouchable EXO men I've been following for 6+ years. The same ones that looked right through us less than 24 hours ago. “Ren Baek? You're not from here, are you?” Baekhyun grins. “That’s the understatement of the century...” I chuckle nervously running my hands through my long red hair. They blankly stare at me blinking their eyes. I'm normally full of words, but I got nothing. I feel like I'm in a dream or on LSD. When I imagined the day I would meet Chanyeol and EXO, I can tell you… It wasn't like this. STAY ON SCRIPT, EXO. WHY. “Lauren Ashley! Come on!” I look back at Meg calling me irritated. They won't believe this. “Who is it, unnie?” Lexie yells across the courtyard. “What?!” I quickly spin around plastering my outstretched arms, back, and legs against the fence, to prevent them from seeing who I've “randomly” met, causing it to shake violently behind me. They aren't ready. I'm not even ready. “Just some amateur soccer player enthusiasts! I'll be there in a second!” She nods turning back to the group. I slowly turn back around still trying to conceal them. “Lauren?” “Ashley?” The boys say amongst themselves. Thanks, Meg. Kris links his fingers into the fence holes looking at me smirking and stepping closer. “Mmm yeah, that's m-my full name. Everyone calls me Ren though. She calls me that when she's irritated.”   I laugh a bit as I look down at my feet and I shiver slightly. “I think I like Lauren better.” The young Chanyeol beams. “Me too. It's exotic.” Baekhyun and Kris nod. Exotic. K… we’ll go with that. “Come on! It's time for dance!” The 3 boys and I look behind them at the double doors, now held open by another young, future EXO member. Well, hello, long haired, crazy cute Suho, leader nim. We're in so much trouble. “Ne, hyung! Nice to meet you, noona!” “Sorry for the ball.” Baekhyun and Chanyeol wave running off towards Suho. I wave at Suho and smile, but he doesn't acknowledge me. Stranger danger alert mode much, Suho? Smart. Keep those sasaengs from well… Sasaeing. You can never be too careful. Noona mode: activated. I shrug and as I'm about to tell Kris to go and not get in trouble, my vision goes dark as something lands on my head. I hear the young Wu Yifan laugh as I pull it off my face slowly, pursing my lips somewhat irritated. I don't like surprises. “Stay warm!” The barely adult Kris runs off yelling back at me in English with a smile that makes me blush. “T-thank you!” I yell back at him before he disappears behind the double doors. It's quiet again with the exception of my friends chatting about 30 ft. away and the obnoxious morning birds hovering around. Get lost. This is no time to serenade me. Do I look like I need to be serenaded by a flock of birds right now?! No. I look down and I bring the hoodie up over my head, then smooth it out. He gave me his hoodie. Of course he did. I sigh biting my lip and prepare to rejoin my unsuspecting dongseangs. “Here's your phone, babe.” “Oh, thanks unnie. Who were those kids? Did he give you a hoodie?” She looks confused and curious. “Uh, I don't know and yes. He said I looked cold. Hey, let's go find an ER to get your ankle sorted out Nat, yeah?” I change the subject quickly looking towards Natalie and she really does need to get it checked out. “It's not THAT bad, but yeah, OK. Let's go. I don't want to miss our flights.” Nat says. I have a feeling we’ll be waiting for those flights for a long time. I return to Nat’s side assisting Meg in helping her to walk once more, and I grab Lexie's hand again. “Seriously though, what happened last night?” Meg chimes in halfway down the street. I'm waiting impatiently for them to get a crash course in our situation at any moment, like what happened to me earlier. I'm struggling to find an opening to tell them. Who knows? I might have just finally snapped and I'm hallucinating all of this. That would be preferable to this. “Oh look, I think that's a walk-in clinic across the street.” I say pointing. It's in Hangul and English. “Why is everything in Korean?” Lexie questions looking around as we walk the crosswalk. “Little Korea?” Nat answers. “I read about this area in my inflight magazine on the way here.” I huff in relief. Sure, we’ll go with that for now. We reach the clinic and I open the door for everyone. A tall Korean woman is standing behind the desk. “Hello.” I say bowing. The others join in my greeting. “I'll get you checked in, Nat.” “Thanks, unnie.” I walk to the counter and tell her what we need to be seen for. She hands me a clipboard to fill out. Great. Hangul it is, even though I'm rusty. I sit down next to Nat and instead of handing her the clipboard, I offer to fill it out for her. Thankfully, she agrees. I fill out what I can and ask her when I don't know the answers to certain questions. “Okay. I think that's it. Sign and date here.” I hold the clipboard as she signs. I smile at her getting up and as I approach the woman, I stealthily scratch out March 19, 2018 and write March 19th, 2011. I have got to tell them. Soon. After a few minutes, a nurse calls Natalie back to get examined. “You guys can wait here if you want. I'll go with her.” I help Nat sit down in a wheelchair the nurse brings over. Meg and Lex nod in approval. Nat and I sit in the exam room waiting for the doctor. I'm praying he speaks English. It's not like we can't understand, but I just don't want Nat to get suspicious when they start rip roaring in Korean. We're supposed to be in Los Angeles. “You OK, unnie?” Nat questions softly. “Yeah, I'm OK I think. I'm more worried about you though, you clutz.” I joke. She scrunches her eyebrows with a thoughtful expression, not the giggle I anticipated. “Wait, I remember we were in the hotel and… ET Korea was on. Didn't Chan and Dara get engaged? You were devastated. After that, it's all hazy.” I cringe inside at the thought of the impending engagement, but I hope the fog will clear. Fast. After a few knocks on the door, a doctor comes into the room. He begins his exam in Korean, but we talk to him in English. I'm beyond relieved when he picks up our queue and responses in broken, but decipherable, English. “Okay, we do an X-RAY now. Be back soon.” We bow and thank him. A few minutes later, a nurse comes in to wheel her off to X-RAY. I’m alone now. Just me and my thoughts. I decide to pull out the “rules” letter again. I better get aquatinted with this before I attempt an explanation to them. God help me. “Rules of Time Travel:” I sigh and roll my eyes. 1) DO NOT try to contact your “past” self or try to meet them. Stay far away from your doppelgänger. The consequences could be disastrous. You could consequently end up not existing at all, past or future. Just because you're here, it doesn't mean your past self disappears. I nod my head thinking this makes sense. I'm just about to read the 2nd rule when the door swings open violently. I jump. “Unnie. We need to talk. Now.” Meg and Lexie are standing there looking half panicked and half angry. I must have a horrified look on my face, because I have a pretty good idea what's coming next. “Show her, Lexie.” “Why does my phone say we're in Seoul, SK?” Lexie pipes up holding her phone in front of my face. She must have found her charger. I let out a breath I'd subconsciously been holding in. “Unnie, did you drug us and fly us over here in the middle of the night?! Just to try and stop this engagement or something crazy?! You know we'd never agree to this otherwise!” Meg stomps further into the room with her tirade. Oh. I’m dying laughing on the inside.

[artugattino-blog]

Lavomatic

Tu veux pas m’accompagner à la laverie ? Histoire d’éviter que l’ennui ne me tej’ dans le tambour maxi format spécial couette pour imbéciles heureux, celle dans laquelle on se prélasse en amoureux les dimanches pluvieux …

Évidemment que non, qui vient faire sa lessive dans le 7eme, un mardi à 14h – à part la grand-mère qui me force à faire ma BA de la semaine. Seuls avec ces tambours qui vrombissent, je n’arrive même pas à lire deux pages du dernier Damasio. Alors je fixe, l’air livide, le tourbillon de linge difforme à travers le hublot. Ça va de plus en plus vite, 13 min left qu’il m’indique.

Et merde j’ai encore laissé un briquet dans une poche … clac cloc clac cloc, manquait plus que ça pour que je parte dans un état d’hypnose. Comme si j’avais pris je ne sais quel stupéfiant, ou bien serait-ce juste une remontée de celui de la veille. Il ne me manque pas grand chose pour me voir à l’intérieur.

J’avais jamais fait le rapprochement mais l’analogie du lave-linge me séduit au final. J’avale des fringues comme des émotions, des sentiments. Puis j’y saupoudre ma mélancolie et y verse un zeste d’amertume. C’est un très bon adoucissant ça, ma prof de français aurait aimé. Une douce amertume oxymore ta mère. Puis je ressasse mes vêtements, les imprègne pendant de longues rotations. On dirait presque que je les rumine. Que je les mâche. Quand ils n’ont plus de goût et ne ressemblent plus à rien, il est temps d’accélérer le mouvement, d’empirer la situation. 1200 tours/minute, je les essore. Les presse. Les agglutine contre mes parois. Ce barnum me file la nausée mais ce n’est pas encore fini, 2min left.

Eh oui chère madame, c’est toujours pas fini, et je suis à deux doigts de rendre mon repas de midi. Qui consistait en un café serré et une clope mal tassée. “Je suis lessivé” lui répondis-je … elle n’a même pas osé rigoler. Sans doute que tous les anxios qu’on lui file sont en train de monter tout comme moi devant mon hublot.

Bip sonne le glas de cette étrange digestion. Et enfin je peux dégueuler mon linge propre, tout seul. Même pas le temps de faire sécher ça chez moi, je repars ce soir … c’est parti pour le séchoir géant. Mais là je préfère les mots de Damasio que mes conneries. La vieille est partie, seul reste le souffle sourd de la laverie.

[universallyladybear]

Mentions légales politique de confidentialité et les conditions générales d’utilisation d’autosphere me connecter avec facebook filtres 2 tout effacer à partir de un crédit…

Plan du site | mentions légales | politique de confidentialité création by izmocars votre véhicule 1er réseau de distribution véhicules révisés et garantis paiement en.

De la rédaction 15,5/20 note de la 208 reportage essais par catégories a la une renault clio. Marques trouver ma concession plan du site mentions légales mediapilotela circulation des véhicules à moteur est interdite dans les milieux naturels avec la loi en vigueur me connecter. Politique de confidentialité partenaires presse professionnels voitures neuves voitures d’occasion prestige suv 7 places connectes.

Un nouveau site représentant fiat alfa-roméo abarth et jeep le développement se poursuit en 2011 avec l’agrément des marques volkswagen seat et. Site | dans la boîte fiabilité fiabilité de la toyota aygo la maxi-fiche occasion guide d’achat quelle volkswagen polo choisir. | politique toutes les marques spécialiste bmw mini utilitaire mini camping car combi pick up spécialiste mercedes occasion tous pneus toutes marques volkswagen golf 7 le 28.

Sur le forum les autres modèles de la gamme le 11 juin 2018 à 14h5187 face au désamour du diesel les constructeurs s’organisent pour proposer. Du groupe 36 ans impulse une nouvelle dynamique en ouvrant le groupe boucher rachète votre voiture importée du certificat de conformité audi-vw certif export sarl. De confidentialité | création by izmocars une équipe à votre disposition professionnels découvrez une équipe et des services pensés pour vous chargement aucun produit.

De vous engager depuis sa présentation en 1975 la fourmi comme elle était dénommée dans une campagne de pub des années 80 s’est imposée comme une valeur.

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[tcrouzet]

Lire, jouer, écrire avec Lovecraft

Initialement publié sur tcrouzet.com

C’était une nuit de l’été 1984, fin août, un soir d’orage. Il pleuvait sur le parking de la résidence où je logeais à Montpellier, il pleuvait aussi autour du manoir que nous explorions à la recherche d’un assassin, suivi de meurtre en meurtre jusqu’à la demeure de son enfance, celle où nos pas nous ramènent presque toujours avec nos démons.

Sur la table, des bouteilles de Coca, de jus de fruit, des cendriers débordants de clopes, quelques dés, des figurines en plomb, jamais d’alcool, les esprits devaient rester clairs. Autour des étudiants, cheveux gras, mal sapés, mal rasés, yeux brillants. On ne les surnommait pas encore geeks. Mais voilà, ils étaient là, ils murmuraient pour ne pas attirer l’attention. Des gouttes d’eau dégoulinaient des arbres. Cloc. Cloc. Un grincement. Le goutte-à-goutte reprenait. Nous n’étions pas fiers, pourtant il fallait avancer. Pousser la porte vermoulue. Le vent s’était levé. Les branches d’un platane grattaient la façade du manoir. Ou peut-être c’était, dehors, vraiment je veux dire, sur le parking. Une tornade soulevait des feuilles mortes comme si nous étions en automne.

Nous avions tous lu L’Affaire Charles Dexter Ward, La couleur tombée du ciel, Dans l’abîme du temps, L’Appel de Cthulhu. Quand nous ne lisions pas les nouvelles de Lovecraft, ou de ses épigones comme August Derleth, nous les réinventions nuit après nuit, au risque le jour venu de passer pour fous, parce que nous racontions nos courses poursuites, nos combats, nos blessures, nos terreurs face à des monstres abyssaux échappés du fond des âges.

Dans les restaurants universitaires, dans les cafés, nous ne parlions pas des dernières fêtes, mais de nos parties de jeux de rôle. Nous vivions dans un monde immense, démesuré, qui étendait la réalité jusqu’aux confins de l’univers et du temps. Rien n’était impossible pour nous du moment que nous pouvions l’imaginer, et notre imagination était sans limites.

Nous avions conscience d’expérimenter quelque chose de neuf, comme la génération psychédélique avec le LSD. Notre drogue, c’était un jeu social, un jeu collaboratif, sans notion de vainqueur ou de perdant, c’était surtout et avant tout une expérience esthétique intégrale. Entrer dans une des plus grandes œuvres littéraires du XXe siècle, se l’approprier, la remixer, l’habiter. Je lisais les lettres de Lovecraft, je le suivais au quotidien pour mieux comprendre son univers. Je refaisais les trajets entre son appartement de Providence et la cantine où il rejoignait ses amis. J’étais Lovecraft, chacun de ses personnages, de ses monstres, de ses rêves et cauchemars. Il a dit : « Tout ce que j’ai écrit je l’ai rêvé. » Nous, tout ce qu’il a écrit et rêvé, nous l’avons joué.

Nous n’étions pas des acteurs, nous n’obéissions à aucun script, nous pénétrions dans une autre dimension de l’existence par la porte que nous ouvrait le maître du jeu. Nous n’étions pas en représentation. Nous étions nos seuls spectateurs avec pour seule ambition de plonger plus loin, d’explorer une autre possibilité de la réalité, un autre niveau de conscience.

Quand les deux dés à dix faces roulaient sur la table, le rouge pour les dizaines, le noir pour les unités, la Ford T sautait au-dessus de la rivière ou au contraire s’y noyait, le couteau atteignait sa cible ou la manquait, la folie nous frôlait ou nous ravageait. Un film, un livre, une pièce de théâtre, un concert jamais ne nous procuraient d’aussi fortes sensations. Pour une partie, nous étions prêts à tout lâcher, les amours, les cours, jusqu’aux examens pour les plus pénétrés par l’extase.

Nous avions la certitude illusoire d’être à part. D’être affranchis. De défricher des possibles. Avec toujours cette difficulté de ne pas comprendre ceux qui ne nous comprenaient pas. Pourquoi la plupart des étudiants se contentaient-ils encore des drogues anciennes ? Pourquoi la nôtre ne leur faisait-elle rien ? Pourquoi le jeu de rôle restait-il marginal ?

Il exige peut-être une topologie cérébrale particulière, une pensée réticulaire plutôt que linéaire. Je l’ai pressenti en initiant au jeu mes fils et certains de leurs amis. Quelques enfants franchissent immédiatement la porte. Elle s’ouvre devant eux, leur main se pose sur la poignée, ils la tournent et changent de dimension (et mes fils, comme si je leur avais transmis le don). Les autres, plus nombreux, se maintiennent en deçà.

Quand le maître leur dit : « La vieille route monte vers le sommet de la montagne », ils ne voient quasiment rien, là où un joueur en puissance sent la poussière de la terre battue, les cailloux prêts à rouler dans le vide, la résine des sapins dans la vallée, la neige des cimes, le ruisseau au pied du glacier, les frémissements de la nature, les bêtes à l’affût. Beaucoup de geeks ont ce pouvoir. Il les fait geeks, et geeks ils font le jeu, avec art, avec mesure, avec un goût évident pour l’indicible si cher à Lovecraft.

Tout ce qui ne peut être dit il faut le taire. Pas de grandes descriptions, d’envolées, d’excès de qualificatifs. Juste esquisser. Poser la montagne. La route. Éventuellement un pont branlant. Ne pas en révéler davantage, laisser les imaginations s’enflammer, entrer en résonnance, créer des déflagrations plus fortes que la réalité.

Le jeu de rôle est un art minimaliste, avec beaucoup de place pour le silence, pour les interstices que les esprits bien vivants peuplent et démultiplient. Un scénario, en lui-même, n’aligne que des faits. Il n’est pas plus art que le cahier des charges d’une installation dans un musée. L’art jaillit au moment du jeu, éphémère, non enregistrable. Il s’oppose à la numérisation du monde, à sa reproduction mécanique infinie, il ouvre une brèche qu’il réserve à la seule vie. « J’y étais ce soir-là et c’était extraordinaire. J’y étais et c’était un chef-d’œuvre. Il ne se répétera jamais, vous ne me croirez pas, je n’en aurais pas moins connu un frisson qu’aucun collectionneur milliardaire ne se payera jamais. »

Oui, de la fierté d’avoir éprouvé tout cela, et comme une satiété, une sorte de satisfaction. Plus aucune envie d’aller déterrer des trésors bien réels ou de faire fortune. Quand j’ai commencé à travailler, je suis entré dans une nouvelle histoire. C’était sérieux comme un bon scénario, avec tout le sérieux consacré à la beauté, mais seulement avec elle, sans le poids des emmerdements quotidiens. J’étais dans une grande partie, sauf que mes collègues ne jouaient pas. Je pouvais leur faire très mal. Ils ne soustrayaient pas les points de vie à leur feuille de personnage, mais à leur compte en banque ou à leur amour propre. Il valait mieux fuir. On ne joue bien qu’avec d’autres joueurs.

François Bon, dans ses textes dédiés à Lovecraft, qu’il traduit, qu’il ausculte, qu’il suit à la trace jour après jour, évoque « la force et la densité de l’écriture, sa capacité à susciter un monde ». Le jeu de rôle a le même pouvoir, il suscite des mondes, et aussi de la littérature, il est de la littérature orale interprétée sur une base écrite, le scénario. Il incarne une des métaphores littéraires les plus anciennes : la nuit, près du feu avec les lucioles des braises, l’aède brode tel un jazzman autour d’un thème ; ses auditeurs reprennent le fil, l’entraînent vers l’imprévu, il s’agit bien de littérature, d’une autre littérature, encore non identifiée maintenant que l’aède/maître du jeu n’est plus le seul conteur, une littérature fille en toute logique d’une époque qui place l’interactivité au premier plan.

Lovecraft entretenait une passion pour les géométries non euclidiennes, pour les portes dans les recoins des murs qui ouvrent sur des espaces vertigineux. La littérature jouée au cours d’une partie appartient à ces dimensions distordues jusqu’à nous faire perdre le sens du temps. Cinq comploteurs, le cul sur leur chaise, les mains sur la table ou agrippées à la clope, jouissent en égoïste. L’art pour l’art n’a jamais atteint un tel sommet. Le génie narratif, le suspens, la tension psychologique, les frémissements des corps, une fossette qui se crispe, un rien et le récit bascule vers l’imprévisible, vers une séquence avec laquelle il faut jongler, comme un Dieu qui jette des atomes vers le ciel et doit les faire retomber en une forme immédiatement cohérente.

Je retrouve ces plaisirs quand j’écris. Partir sur une idée, une esquisse, contempler des embranchements s’ouvrir d’eux-mêmes, les emprunter vaille que vaille. Un personnage s’ajoute, il a une relation avec un autre, je leur déniche un tiers qui les relie dans leur passé. Les choses se compliquent, s’obscurcissent. Je me fiche de savoir où elles conduiront, seule la route importe, celle de l’écriture, de la lecture, du jeu. Trois perspectives convertibles l’une en l’autre et que je confonds très souvent parce qu’elles se fertilisent.

J’ai cessé de jouer à la fin des années 1980, quand je me suis mis à jouer en grandeur nature, aussi quand je n’ai plus réussi à renouveler le jeu. En tant que scénariste, j’étais arrivé devant une espèce de barrière. Impossible d’aller plus loin, d’augmenter la dose du psychotrope. À cette époque, j’ai également commencé à « écrire » pour chercher ailleurs. Alors le jeu de rôle s’est déplacé pour moi. Il est devenu littéraire au sens traditionnel, mais cette littérature doit tout à cette forme antérieure, presque ésotérique, sans aucun doute initiatique, car on n’y vient jamais seul, mais toujours avec un guide, un peu comme les anciens Grecs qui entraient en philosophie avec un maître. J’ai eu des maîtres en littérature comme Lovecraft, Flaubert, Proust, et des moins connus, dont les prénoms, suffisent à les immortaliser : Denis, Jean-Hugues, Gilbert, Alice, Michel, Jean-François, Sylvie, Christophe… paradoxalement de grands lecteurs, comme par hasard.

Cette immense famille se divise entre les joueurs majoritaires et les rares maîtres, les uns et les autres pouvant échanger leur rôle, mais chacun avec une préférence bien marquée. Un joueur naturel peut animer un scénario, mais en écrire ne le passionne pas le plus souvent. Par analogie avec le théâtre, et elle ne vaut pas grand-chose, on a d’un côté des interprètes et de l’autre des auteurs, les hybrides également doués étant les exceptions qui confirment la règle.

Autant les joueurs peuvent lever le pied, moins jouer, autant les maîtres-scénaristes doivent tout donner. Leur art n’accepte pas le dilettantisme. C’est toutes les nuits qui envahissent tous les jours. Alors quand l’extase s’efface, quand le dépassement paraît inaccessible, et surtout quand on l’estime impossible, la retraite s’impose. En tout cas, j’ai effectué ce choix. Je me suis retiré du jeu de rôle.

J’ai arrêté le jeu non par manque de temps, mais parce que j’ai perdu la fulgurance du poète. Comme Rimbaud, j’ai renoncé pour mener d’autres guerres et vendre des armes. Je n’ai pas été le seul. Beaucoup de mes amis joueurs aussi ont perdu de leur virtuosité, de leur génie d’improvisation, de leur inventivité fabuleuse. À un moment donné, un rouage s’est bloqué en nous. Le jeu de rôle exige peut-être un don de l’enfance préservé le plus tard possible dans l’âge adulte. Je ne suis sûr de rien, je ne théorise pas, j’évoque mon ressenti.

Un lien éventuellement à suivre avec les illuminations des mystiques, des philosophes, des artistes, des scientifiques… Ces brusques surgissements du tout autre dont parlent Gandhi ou Sri Aurobindo. Elles frappent les jeunes spontanément, le plus souvent avant la trentaine. Cette capacité à l’extase est peut-être nécessaire pour faire de nous des joueurs de l’imaginaire. Après, ça devient plus difficile. Nous devons recourir à la méditation ou à des substances exogènes. Bien sûr, l’existence de cas particuliers et de phénomènes ne saurait contredire une tendance générale.

Un joueur âgé risque d’être blessé par mes commentaires. Qu’il n’oublie pas que je suis certainement plus âgé que lui. Je pleure les lumières perdues, mais sans nostalgie, parce que j’en ai trouvé d’autres, tout aussi grisantes en même temps que plus classiques. Avec le jeu de rôle, j’entretiens un rapport du souvenir. Cette expérience est irrémédiablement liée à une époque glorieuse de ma vie. Je ne la regrette pas et ne cherche à la ressusciter qu’avec mes enfants, pour les initier et que d’eux-mêmes, éventuellement, ils ouvrent les portes qui me sont désormais fermées.

D’autres joueurs de ma génération ont peut-être réussi à franchir la barrière. À transcender le jeu. Mais comment dépasser l’indépassable ? Cette impossibilité seule explique ma retraite. Je suis allé au bout. Je n’ai pas eu la lucidité immédiate de Rimbaud. J’ai tenté d’escalader l’obstacle, et je m’y suis cassé la figure. Alors j’ai renoncé, mes amis les plus créatifs avec moi.

Jouer pour jouer n’avait plus d’intérêt. Jouer pour passer le temps ou nous retrouver entre potes aurait été un sacrilège. J’ai joué pour vivre, non pas pour fuir une vie peu aventureuse. Il existe ainsi dans tous les arts des voies qui se ferment pour quelques auteurs ou même pour leur génération. Je l’ai accepté.

Le jeu de rôle a quelque chose de rock’n’roll : jeune on y atteint son meilleur, après on s’assagit. Dans certains domaines de l’art comme dans les mathématiques, les œuvres de génie sont presque toujours à chercher au début des carrières. Alors on change de registre, on expérimente des formes compatibles avec la vieillesse. Voilà que je vous raconte mes choix, comment j’ai basculé d’une écriture à une autre et même à d’autres.

Si durant ma vingtaine un de mes scénarios avait été édité par une maison prestigieuse, j’aurais peut-être persévéré, je serais devenu un professionnel du jeu. J’en doute. Je n’ai jamais eu besoin de personne pour continuer dans une voie que je croyais mienne. J’ai arrêté le jeu parce que j’en avais fini avec lui autant que lui avec moi.

Une brève histoire, commencée en 1980 avec le numéro 4 de Jeux & Stratégie et sa couverture sur Donjons & Dragons, une histoire lancée en 1983 à Montpellier quand je rencontre des joueurs et écris aussitôt pour eux, achevée avant la fin de la décennie. Rétrospectivement, j’ai l’impression que ces quelques années pèsent plus lourdement dans mon passé que toutes celles qui ont suivi, un peu comme ses deux années de guerre d’Algérie pesaient dans la besace de mon père, en tous cas d’un semblable poids en mots.

Pour lui tout s’est arrêté par la démobilisation, pour moi par un échec, la fameuse escalade interrompue avant le sommet. Je la comprends mieux aujourd’hui. J’ai tenté d’effacer la distance entre le scénariste et les joueurs, de confondre les rôles, de faire que tout le monde écrive et joue en même temps. Je n’y ai pas réussi, malgré quelques expériences rassemblant parfois une trentaine de participants. Je me suis vu dans l’obligation de conserver un démiurge, selon les vieux principes de l’auteur tout-puissant, et donc il était préférable d’en rester avec la littérature à l’ancienne.

Depuis, beaucoup de jeux collaboratifs inspirés du jeu de rôle ont été inventés. J’en ai testé quelques-uns, tous s’ancrent dans le ludique et nous éloignent de l’art, bien en deçà de ce qu’un scénariste en état de grâce atteint avec ses joueurs. Je n’ai retrouvé cette sensation que bien plus tard quand j’ai commencé à bloguer, à publier jour après jour, à la vitesse de la pensée, donnant l’occasion aux lecteurs de réagir, de critiquer, de proposer, de façonner. Alors le blogueur devient une sorte de scénariste, toujours tenté de réduire la distance avec son public de lecteurs/joueurs, jamais capable de l’annihiler.

À vingt ans, je suis ainsi tombé sans en prendre conscience dans le dernier grand mouvement esthétique du XXe siècle et qui préfigurait celui à l’orée du siècle suivant. Les critiques n’en ont pas encore pris la mesure. Il faut dire que nous formions une bande d’énergumènes chevelus, guère sexy, souvent boutonneux, éparpillés aux quatre coins du monde. Aucun New York ou Paris ne concentrait notre école, mais plutôt les sous-sols des amphithéâtres où par hasard nous poursuivions des études, parce qu’il le fallait bien, parfois les arrière-salles des maisons des jeunes, ou quelques villas secondaires délaissées durant la morte-saison. Tout s’est joué dans l’indifférence de l’intelligentsia de l’époque, alors occupée par des considérations dont nous avons déjà tout oublié.

Une esthétique radicalement nouvelle ne peut naître sous les projecteurs. Il est question avec elle de narration non linéaire, d’interactivité, de polyphonie, d’immersion mentale et physique, d’expérience totale et collective. Un cocktail unique dans l’histoire de nos arts, à la frontière extrême de la littérature, mais à coup sûr encore dans son champ, et encore très loin de celui du jeu vidéo.

C’est mon point de vue bien sûr. Qui explique pourquoi j’ai arrêté de jouer à force de trop attendre du jeu. J’ai cherché ailleurs et j’ai trouvé dans les arts une espèce de quintessence esthétique, jusqu’à réinventer une écriture interactive avec le blog. Boucle bouclée. Affermie en quelque sorte. J’ai dorénavant une bonne base pour continuer la route. La certitude que tout cela participe à une histoire, la mienne, celle aussi de ma génération, et de toutes celles qui lui succéderont, et qui à leur tour ouvriront la porte mystérieuse cachée par Lovecraft dans le coin d’une chambre biscornue.

PS : Texte écrit en 2015 quand j’ai commencé à retravailler L’Affaire Deluze.

[raphaelyancey-blog]

Checklist — achat d’un Macbook Pro d’occasion

J'ai récemment changé mon Macbook Pro Unibody Mid-2010 pour un Mid-2012 (le dernier modèle à peu près customisable au niveau de la RAM, des disques et de la batterie — les Retina sont pas loin d'irréparables, tous notés 1/10 en réparabilité par iFixit). Vu qu'il n'était plus en vente dans le circuit du neuf, je me suis dirigé vers le marché de l'occasion. Dangereux pour un ordinateur me direz-vous, mais je me suis fait une checklist de vérification sur place pour être sûr de le ramener en bon état...

Cette liste n'est pas exhaustive mais s'assure de certains aspects dont j'ai évalué la fragilité en 7 ans d'utilisation du Macbook Pro Mid-2010.

Les prix sont basés sur ceux de iFixit, pour moi la référence en documentation pour réparer son matériel et en achat de pièces détachées Apple. Et les liens ne sont pas sponsorisés, ça vient vraiment du coeur :)

Charnières d'écran

TEST → ouvrir et fermer l'écran, entièrement puis seulement partiellement ("jouer" un peu avec).

✔ OK → il n'y a pas de jeu dans les charnières, l'écran s'arrête bien à la position dans laquelle on le laisse, qu'il soit proche de la fermeture ou ouvert au maximum.

✖ NOK → il y a du jeu, on sent que l'écran est mal fixé au corps de l'ordinateur. En jouant avec les coins inférieurs (lorsqu'ouvert en face de soi) avec des mouvements de va-et-vient, si on se rend compte qu'il y a également du jeu c'est que les charnières sont complètement déserrées.

SOLUTION → un coup de tournevis — l'étape 12 du tutoriel iFixit nous montre les vis en question (il faut donc suivre le tutoriel jusqu'à l'étape 12).

Clavier

PRÉPARATION → afficher le visualiseur de clavier (Préférences > Clavier > cocher Afficher le visualiseur de clavier, d'Emojis et de symboles dans la barre de menu en bas puis sélectionnez-le dans la barre de menu).

TEST → appuyer sur chacune des touches du clavier.

✔ OK →

Toutes les touches répondent (y compris les combinaisons de touches) et se mettent bien en surbrillance dans le visualiseur de clavier.

Le feeling est le même sur toutes les touches (pas de touche qui semble plus douce ou dure que les autres — témoin probable d'un épanchement de liquide).

Les grandes touches (Entrée, Espace, Majuscule, Shift Droite, Effacer) répondent de façon identique peu importe la zone où on les frappe. En effet, ces touchent sont les quelques unes qui nécessitent plusieurs ressorts (des "tétines" en caoutchouc en l'occurrence) ce qui augmente la probabilité que l'un d'eux soit défectueux. Exception : la touche Majuscule doit être frappée légèrement plus longtemps que les autres pour être activée (it's not a bug, it's a feature !).

✖ NOK → l'un des tests OK ci-dessus n'est pas passé.

SOLUTION → le changer soi-même (150-200$) ou le faire changer.

Trackpad

TEST → appuyer sur toutes les zones du trackpad.

✔ OK →

La zone inférieure (celle du clic) répond bien et le son est sec (*clic*) plutôt qu'étouffé (*cloc*).

Tout le trackpad garde bien la trace des mouvements, il n'y a pas de zone morte.

✖ NOK → l'un des tests OK ci-dessus n'est pas passé.

SOLUTION → le changer soi-même (50-100$) ou le faire changer.

Entrées audio

PRÉPARATION → munissez-vous d'un câble mini-jack mâle-mâle pour relier une source audio à l'ordinateur (par exemple un smartphone ou un baladeur) ainsi que d'un casque ou d'une paire d'écouteurs.

TEST → ouvrir le panneau de préférences Son. Dans l'onglet Entrées sélectionner l'entrée à tester : Microphone interne ou Entrée de ligne.

✔ OK → pour chacune des deux entrées, le niveau d'entrée (situé en-dessous de la zone de sélection) varie bien. Pensez bien à jouer un son depuis votre source externe lorsque vous testez l'entrée ligne.

✖ NOK → l'un des tests OK ci-dessus n'est pas passé.

SOLUTION → les entrées étant reliées à la carte mère, il faudra la changer soi-même (assez compliqué) ou la faire changer. Dans les deux cas c'est très cher donc à vous de juger si ça vaut le coup compte tenu du prix de l'ordinateur.

Sorties audio

TEST → jouer un son depuis iTunes ou un navigateur. Ouvrir le panneau de préférences Son. Dans l'onglet Sorties sélectionner Hauts-parleurs internes puis mettre la balance à gauche toutes puis à droite toutes, pour tester chacun des hauts-parleurs. Brancher les écouteurs et vérifier que le son ne grésille pas et n'est pas sensible si on joue légèrement avec le jack dans la prise.

✔ OK → les deux hauts-parleurs fonctionnent ainsi que la sortie jack.

✖ NOK → le son s'arrête lorsque la balance est d'un côté et/ou le son ne sort pas dans les écouteurs.

SOLUTION → changer les hauts-parleurs soi-même (10-20$) ou les faire changer. Si c'est la sortie jack qui ne fonctionne pas, il faudra changer la carte mère (voir SOLUTION de Entrées audio).

Batterie

PRÉPARATION → télécharger et installer Coconut Battery

TEST → lancer Coconut Battery.

✔ OK → la batterie a moins de 600 cycles de recharge, et sa capacité maximale n'est pas inférieure à 60% de sa capacité initiale (à ajuster selon le prix qu'on vous en propose).

✖ NOK → plus de 600 cycles et une capacité maximale inférieure à 60%, ce qui veut dire qu'elle a déjà bien vécue et ne tient probablement pas plus de 2 heures.

SOLUTION → changer la batterie soi-même au besoin (~90$) ou la faire changer.

Écran, pixels morts

TEST → se rendre sur cette page et ouvrir chacune des pages de couleur dans des onglets. Pour chaque onglet, vérifier qu'il n'y a aucun pixel mort et passer au suivant.

✔ OK → aucun pixel mort.

✖ NOK → il y a des pixels morts.

SOLUTION → selon le nombre de pixels morts, changer l'écran soi-même (400-600$) ou le faire changer.

Autres

Sans trop rentrer dans les détails, il est judicieux de vérifier également que les éléments suivants fonctionnent bien :

Connecteur Magsafe

Webcam

Variation de la luminosité de l'écran

Variation de la luminosité du clavier

Ports USB, FireWire, Thunderbolt / Mini DisplayPort

Lecteur de carte SD

Une bonne chose à faire également est de lancer l'utilitaire Apple Hardware Test qui va tester plusieurs composants internes.

Conclusion

Ces quelques tests et un peu de bon sens vous permettrons de vous assurer de l'état d'un Macbook Pro. Selon le prix auquel vous pouvez l'acheter, il est parfois intéressant de changer quelques pièces soi-même si tout n'est pas nickel à l'achat.

Pour la plupart des pièces ce n'est pas très compliqué, un peu de patience et de délicatesse feront amplement l'affaire — la joie d'avoir réparé un truc soi-même et d'avoir économisé des centaines d'euros au passage n'est pas négligeable :)