#I also mentioned his incredible ability to hold a pose before which helps him here

[turtleblogatlast]

I am once again reiterating that Leo could and should be a figure skater because what are ice skates if not twin blades? What is dual blade swordsmanship if not a dance-like performance? Using the skates as blades themselves could let Leo make portals be his ice rink no? I rest my case. ⛸️

[mobagehelllocal]

“do you even lift, bro?”

Not exactly a prompt but just a suggestion where the dorm leaders fem s!o wants to carry them bridal style? Maybe they got injured or maybe she just wanted to show her strength? How will everyone react? Thanks a lot :) -- From @blackstrawberrynightmare​.

A/N: Thank you so much for this! This was a very fun break from the “holding the world” series ahahah~ I enjoyed it a lot and I think it sort of became crack? I hope this makes everyone who reads it laugh at least once! Please tell me what you think~

other versions: ver i (this), ver ii (dire, divus, ashton), ver iii (leech twins, jamil, epel, rook, lilia)

--

“Bet I could bench press you.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Riddle turned to you with the most incredulous face ever, and you giggled in response. “What is... a bench press?” Riddle struggled, his expression looked as if he was thinking back onto all your conversations--he tried to remember if you’ve ever mentioned this... bench press before.

“It’s basically when I hold you like this” you opened your palms facing upright, “and then I lift you like this--” you proceeded to move your hands up and down. 

“Absolutely not.”

“But Riddle!” you pouted, and he narrowed his eyes in turn, his arms crossed. 

“I refuse to be... bench pressed.” He pressed his lips tight together, and you sighed, disappointed.

“One day I’ll convince you.”

“That day will never come.” 

“Then next time, I won’t ask for permission.” 

“You--” Riddle glared, his cheeks red. “--never mind.” he scoffed, as he looked away. “What makes you think you can carry me anyways?” 

“Ah, but I can!” 

“I don’t believe it.” Unfortunately for Riddle, you were waiting for something like that.

“Then let me prove my strength~” 

“What are you doing? Why are you bending down--Wait, don’t you dare--guh!” 

You proceeded to wrap your arms behind his knees, and around his back. With barely a blink, you swept him up into your arms. 

Riddle gaped when you barely flinched. While Riddle was small, he wasn’t exactly light. Or at least, that’s what he liked to think. You looked down at him, and wiggled your eyebrows.

“Have I made you fall in love, prince of my heart?” You delighted in the embarrassed red flush on his cheeks. He began to struggle in your arms, but you held on pretty tight--enough that the most he could do was attempt to push you away with his hands.

“Let me down,” his brow furrowed, and from embarrassed red he slowly turned to angry red, “this instant.” 

“No way, this is too fun.” you giggled, as he struggled harder in response. 

“If you don’t I’ll--” he stopped short, realizing he really didn’t have leverage against you. He couldn’t exactly use his unique magic on you. You grinned cheekily at him, and he crossed his arms grumpily in response. “... Since when were you so strong anyways?”

“Always?” 

“You didn’t say anything.” he pointed out and you cocked your head to the side in thought. 

“I guess it’s like you with your magic. You’ve always had it, you’ve always been good at it.” you shrugged, “it’s normal to me. So I never thought it was something that needed explaining?” He sighed in response, he could understand your point after all. 

“... When will you let me down?” 

“Never.” you cuddled close and his blush that had originally calmed down--intensified. 

“--!” he sighed, before he let you. It should be fine as long as nobody walked in.

“Prefect, Riddle--” Cater walked in, only for his eyes to widen, and his hand snapped up immediately to take a photo.

“Cater!” Riddle looked murderous, and he tried to leap out of your arms to grab the third year who laughed nervously, and hesitantly stepped back. “[Name]! Let go of me right now!” 

“Sorry, can’t do Riddle,” you giggled. “Cater! Send me that photo, okay~?” 

“[Name]!” 

“There’s a reason I adore you Prefect!” Cater laughed, as he snapped more photos. 

“What’s going on?” Trey ducked into the room, and paused at the sight. Riddle sputtered, as Trey immediately turned around to snicker. 

“Cater I want those photos too--” 

“YOU ALL--!”

--

“Leona!” you tried to call the man’s attention, but he only turned away, his tail thumped heavily on the ground.

“No.” 

“But you need to get to class!” you protested, “don’t you have a super important thing today?” 

“Hngh... zzz...” 

“Hey! Don’t you dare fall asleep on me!” The lack of a response made your eye twitch. “Fine... if that’s what you’re gonna do--then I’ll have to resort to--” 

When there was a sudden silence, Leona smirked, the moment you approached him--he would drag you down to the ground with him, and quiet you down by--

That is until he felt your small, delicate hands dig underneath his back then legs and within a moment--he hissed in surprise, and you smirked in response--you carried him in your arms, bridal style. 

“-carrying you.” You snickered at him. “how do you like it, Leona?” 

You’ve never seen him so surprised. His eyes were wide, his pupils huge (’like a cat’s!’ you couldn’t help but inwardly squeal), his ears were flattened against his head, his tail was actually still--and from the little of it that you could see of it--it seemed like the fur was standing upright too. 

‘One day,’ you solemnly swore to yourself, ‘I’ll surprise him by, I dunno--bench pressing him with one hand so I can take a photo with the other hand.’  

Leona just stared at you, his mouth slightly agape. 

Sure, Afterglow Savanna was filled with incredibly strong women. However no one has ever attempted to carry Leona. Primarily because he wouldn’t let anyone--and also because his pride wouldn’t let him. He knew that women outside of Afterglow Savanna weren’t the same as the women within the kingdom. So he had figured you wouldn’t be able to carry him...

Give him a moment, his pride was just damaged, in the same moment you’ve suddenly become all the more attractive to him. 

‘In the culture of his kingdom, especially for the royal family--what made a great wife, is a strong woman. Here you were, proving just how perfect you were for him.’  He could feel the heat rise to his face upon that realization, and he struggled to calm his heart down--fervently hoping that nothing showed on his face.  

“Hello? Leona?” He was still super still in your arms, and you shrugged. “Ah well, since you aren’t resisting, this will be easier for me.” So you began to carry him out of the garden. At your sudden movement, he twitched in your arms, and tried to get off. Unfortunately for him, being able to lift a man of his height and weight also meant that you had a pretty strong grip.

“Nope.” you shook your head. “You wouldn’t get up earlier, so I’ll just carry you to class.” 

“Let me go He-” he paused, ‘Could he still call you herbivore, given you’ve proven you’re not a herbivore?’ 

At his sudden, uncharacteristic hesitance, you glanced down at him. Wow, he’s being really weird today. 

“Leona... are you okay?” He opened his mouth to respond, when his ears twitched, and he struggled harder in your arms. 

“He--[Name], put me down, right now.” he practically hissed. 

“What? No way! You’re clearly not enjoying this, therefore I am.” ‘Hah! Take that for all the heartbeats I wasted on you, you big tease!’ He growled in response, about to snap back when--

“Is that... Leona?” You blinked, head turned in the direction of the voice, while Leona slackened in your arms, and groaned. “with [Name] carrying him? Shishishi!” 

“Oh! Hi Ruggie~ Jack~ I’m off to bring your dorm leader to his class~” 

Ruggie was practically bent forward, as he both cried and laughed. Meanwhile Jack just stared at you with the widest eyes, and biggest open mouth you’ve seen on him.

“Hahahah! Leona--being carried like a bride! Wait I need a photo!” Ruggie snickered as he pulled out his phone.

“Oi! Ruggie! Don’t you dare--!”

“Oho, I see you’re a hyena of culture Ruggie! How do you want me to pose?”

“Well if you can just--” 

“You herbi-[Name]--don’t encourage him!” Leona yelled, clearly exasperated. At the corner of his eye, he noticed that Jack’s shoulders were shaking. The student had desperately covered his mouth--trying to hide his own laugh.

‘Great,’ he scowled. ‘they’ll never let me live this down.’  

--

“You’re doing great Azul!” Jamil yelled, with a very wide, self-satisfied smirk on his face as the trembling octopus merman flew into the air on his broom. Azul would’ve shaken his fist at the snake if he wasn’t clinging onto the broom as hard as he was. ‘Is he that mad about the burn cure incident in our alchemy class?’ Azul thought, but the broom wobbled and his grip tightened on it in response.

“Unbelievable these land dwellers,” Azul cursed underneath his breath. “I just learnt how to walk on two legs last school year and now they want me to fly? They want a merman in the air? Absurd. Complete savages the lot of them.”

Now when it came to magic—the most important thing is being able to believe in your ability to do it. Be it believing in your ability to manipulate elements, or believing in your ability to conjure something out of thin air.

This applied to flying too.

Unfortunately for the octopus... he was so distracted as he cursed in the language of the seas—he forgot about the fact he was flying.

Hence his broom started to wobble.

He only realized the problem when his broom started to jerk around.

“Oh—“ he let out more curses in his native language and closed his eyes, “ok you can do this Azul. I believe I can fly! I believe I can fly—“

But he didn’t really so—his broom grew to be even crazier with his movements.

“Hey! Azul! Open your eyes! Calm down!” Jamil yelled out. Caught up in his own panic, Azul didn’t hear him. 

“I believe I can flyIbelieveIcanflyIbelieveIcanfly--” Azul chanted, but when he opened his eyes and saw how high he was-- 

“Ah carp, I’m gonNA DIE!” Azul shrieked, and shut his eyes tight--which led to him getting flung off his broom.

“Oh scarab.”  Jamil swore as he tried to run after the free falling octopus, only to stumble to a stop when he saw--

“Gotcha!” 

One moment he was free falling, then the next moment he’s caught, and pressed close to your chest. Azul’s eyes flew open in response to hearing your voice. You looked down at him with a wide smile.

You were carrying him--like a bride. Your hold was gentle, but firm--and the smile you sent him was tinted with worry--but it turned to amusement with the way he gaped at you. 

Azul’s eyes glistened, and you’re pretty sure he would start crying any second now if you didn’t immediately distract him. You didn’t want him to be sad after all. 

“You rang for a Princess Charming?~” you tossed in a wink, and he promptly turned red in response. 

“You--ga--wha--” Azul gaped at the fact you carried him in your arms with ease. 

“[Surname]!” you looked up to see that the rest of Azul’s second year class had ran up to you too. You easily hiked Azul up in your arms (which he yelped at), as you stood upright. Ashton Vargas looked at you with glitter in his eyes, and you took an involuntary step back at his expression.

“That! WAS! IMPRESSIVE!” Professor Vargas boomed, “That catch was magnificent! You barely stumbled! No recoil at all!” 

“I’m really strong.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I never really had a problem with doing physical stuff. I just braced myself properly to catch Azul.” you held out your arms, where the octopus, still completely bewildered, lay--still slack from the shock. 

“Since when could you do that, [Surname]?”

“I always could...?” you shrugged your shoulders in response. “I just never needed to use it.” you laughed awkwardly. 

“Is Ashengrotto alright?” Vargas looked at the merman, and tried to look at his expression. 

“I think I should take him to the infirmary.” you said, “he’s still in shock.” 

“Right, right. You do that.” Vargas stroked his beard. “Carry on. I’ll have Viper update Ashengrotto if he misses out on anything.” Jamil flinched, and shot a guilty glance at Azul then at you. You shot him a smile, in response and mouthed that you’d tell Azul he was sorry. Jamil looked relieved. 

“Sure Professor.” with that you turned around, and relaxed your hold on Azul.

“...How’d you know?” 

“Hm?” 

“... That I didn’t want to be seen... like that.” 

“You mean crying?” You gave him a love filled smile that made his heart beat even faster. “Well the answer is simple. I am your girlfriend after all.” His face turned red again. 

“Thank you.” Azul sighed, “I feel like you saved me twice today.” 

“And I’ll keep saving you whenever you need me.” That gentle grin--full of your adoration for him is enough for his blush to darken.

“Please put me down.” 

“Oh no, I refuse.” you squeezed. “I think you’re cute in my arms~” 

“I want my octopus pot right now.” 

Extra:

“Oh my.” 

“Carp.” Azul swore, as he saw the Leech twins up ahead. Floyd let out a happy gasp, before he ran right over.

“Ooooh! I want to be carried too--!” 

“Wait Floyd--don’t just jump--AH!” 

“Oh my, my.” Jade snickered to himself as you easily caught Floyd, but started to stumble.

“Jade!” wailed Azul from underneath the laughing Floyd.

“Woah! Shrimpy strong!” 

“Don’t move too much! Ah! Wait! My balance--” 

--

As you entered the Scarabia Dorms to visit Kalim, you noticed a commotion. More specifically--a bunch of animals going wild. You also quickly noticed Jamil off to the side, hissing out sharp commands. 

You ran up to him, and waited for him to acknowledge you. Which he does, easily enough.

“Ah, Prefect, you’re here.” he had a long suffering expression on his face, and you tilted your head.

“Someone forgot to lock up all the animals this morning so...” he sighed. “We’re trying to calm them down.” 

“Ah, I see.” you looked around, “any way I can help?” 

“You don’t have to, please sit with Kalim.” he gestured to an empty chair. Something in your stare must’ve been telling, because he visibly paled and went: 

“He... he’s not there.... is he?” he said in a very weak and pitiful tone. 

“No he’s not.” you said, as gently as possible. “Would you like me to help?” 

“Yes please.” 

“Alright.” you slammed your fist against your open palms. “He’s likely wherever it’s most difficult.” Jamil nodded, before he made a very deadpanned expression.

‘Ah.’ 

“... He’s with the elephants.” you both said in unison, and you both rushed off in the direction. 

--

You find him easy. 

There he was, in the middle of the path, faced away from the approaching elephants. 

“Jamil! [Name]!” he waved--WAVED! All cheeky too! While in the midst of danger. Jamil looked like he was having a heart attack, so you quickly darted to Kalim.

“Wait! [Name]!” you quickly scooped Kalim up into your arms, bridal style, before you tossed yourself as hard as you could out of the fray. You exhaled in relief, before you feel Kalim wrap his arms around your neck, to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“My hero!” he laughed, all jovial, as if he hadn’t nearly been in mortal danger.

“Kalim! That was dangerous!” 

“Yeah but we got out of it alright!” he said, as he waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “What’s more important is--! I didn’t realize how strong you were!” When he looked at you with those sparkly eyes, it was easy to falter, and forget about everything that could you upset. 

The adrenaline finally rushed out of you, and you crashed to your knees, after which you buried your head into the crook of his neck.

“[N-Name]?” his voice was confused, and even flustered. Any other time, you would be eager to see his expression, but for now--

“Please... be more careful next time.” 

“.... Uhn... I’m sorry! I’ll try not to make you worry so much!” Kalim pulled away from you to look at your face. “What kind of boyfriend will I be if I make you hurt like that, yeah?” 

You exhaled, relieved. “Yes, exactly.” 

You both share a smile, then soft giggles--before it turned into full blown laughter.

That is until--

“What do you think you were doing Kalim?” Jamil hissed, his expression dark.

“Oh--well, that is” Kalim sweated in response, and you attempted to melt into the background until Jamil’s dark gaze moved to you.

“And you as well--” he gritted his teeth, “running out like that--!” 

“Wait--why are you blaming me?” 

“You both nearly gave me a heart attack!” when he looked up, his eyes glowed with a sinister light.

“Oh no.” 

“...[Name]... save me.” 

“Already on it.” you hopped onto your feet, and darted off with Jamil hot on your heels. 

“Come back here you two!” 

--

Now, normally when people were surrounding your ridiculously pretty boyfriend you were fine with it. He was a model after all. You didn’t really mind him interacting with his fans--you were perfectly fine with stepping out of the way, and giving them a few minutes to talk to Vil. 

You could relate.

After all, you didn’t call yourself Vil’s number one fan for nothing. 

You were lucky enough to be able to hoard Vil to yourself so much, so you were always willing to share ‘Vil the model’ with his fans.

‘It’s fine. I’m completely fine.’ you crossed your arms. You hoped your face wasn’t irritated, or upset. You understood how important fan interactions are but--

‘It’s our first date in awhile, and I really wanted to enjoy private time with Vil.’ you thought mournfully, as you eyed the gaggle of boys and girls who surrounded your Vil. 

If Vil was upset--it wasn’t visible on his face at all. In fact, as per usual, he enjoyed his time with his fans. (Which made you feel even worse.) He made sure to acknowledge each one of them, and looked them straight in the eye. It caused a lot of the fans to go red, and nearly faint (once more, absolutely relatable--those eyes? With those lashes? Up close? Even you had difficulty breathing with him that close.) 

You looked at the time, only to inhale sharply at the fact he’s been at it for at least an hour. Plus--based on the way the crowd around him only grew, you two would never get to finish your date.

‘Alright, I’m sorry,’ you thought, ‘but I’m going to have to get in the way.’ 

When Vil looked up to search for you outside the crowd, he couldn’t see you. He mentally frowned. He was grateful that you were always willing to adjust to his fans, but at times--he wouldn’t mind if you were a little bit more selfish with him.

He had given you himself--he as Vil Schoenheit. The world--his fans--they might have Vil Schoenheit as the influencer and model--but you had him, for himself. The Vil with no make up in the morning, the Vil who would cheat his diet for some sweets, the Vil who wasn’t as put together as the world saw. You saw all his flaws--the imperfections, the things he found ugly--yet you held him, told him he was your world despite that. 

That was something.

No, it is something.

He hoped you knew, that no matter what, that made you so irreplaceable... so important to him. 

After all, beyond his prowess as a poisoner, beyond his fame as a model--who would stand by him when that was all gone? 

He hoped it was you. 

“Sorry everyone, but I’ll have to steal my boyfriend away now.” 

He turned to you, surprised but excited that you were going to steal him away.

‘Now how would you do that, sweet potato?’ 

He saw you bend down, then quite literally--sweep him off his feet. He’s surprised--and his first reaction is to wrap his arms around your neck. You ignored the gasp of fans, as you quickly run off without a single misstep. 

“I finally have you, my ah... damsel in distress?” you quirked your brow, not sure if you said it right. Vil only laughed and pressed his lips against your cheek. When he pulls back, there’s a very obvious lipstick mark on your cheek. 

“You finally saved me, my Princess Charming.” he said, and you blinked down at him. 

“I was just... selfish.” 

Oh! And how much did that warm his heart--to know how much you wanted to dominate his time, as much as he did.

“You can always be selfish with me.” He told you quietly, with a gentle smile. 

“I mean--are you sure?” 

“Of course! I am your boyfriend after all!” He cocked his head to the side, “now, you didn’t tell me you were strong enough to carry me around.” 

“It never came up?” 

“Then, I’ll rely on you to save me more--alright?” 

You stared into his eyes--honest, and loving, coupled with how genuinely enchanting Vil was well--you broke away first with a faint blush on your cheeks.

“... Of course...”  

EXTRA: 

“How cute...” Rook purred. 

“Aside from how weird it is that we’re following them on their date...” Epel paused. “I wonder if [Name] would tell me how she got so strong?” 

--

You burst into Idia’s room, frantic and worried after receiving a text from Ortho, about his brother collapsing.

“[Name]!” Ortho called out relieved, as he pointed out Idia--slumped onto the ground, groaning.

“What happened Ortho?” you frowned, as you knelt, and carefully turned your boyfriend onto his back.

“He just suddenly collapsed, and I don’t know why.” Ortho fretted, you leant forward and pressed your forehead against his, only for you to reel back quickly in surprise.

“I think he’s running a fever.” you frowned, “we’ll have to take him to the infirmary.” 

“But how?” 

“I’ll carry him, of course.” Ortho’s mouth dropped in surprise when you easily scooped up his brother. With Idia’s long hair trailing to the ground and limp body, it did look like you had just finished saving a princess. 

“Woah! [Name] you look so cool!” Ortho stared up at you with shining eyes, and you giggled in response.

“Thanks Ortho. Now go run ahead and tell the nurse I’m bringing your irresponsible brother to the office, alright?” 

“Mhm!” 

--

On the walk there, Idia stirred in your arms.

“Oh, are you finally awake?” you teased, at which his eyes widened and he immediately froze in your arms.

“[Name]?” he squeaked out, then frantically looked around before he met your gaze again. “Wait--are you carrying me?” 

“To the nurse’s office, yes” you said, amused. 

“Please put me down!” 

“Absolutely not, after all--you made Ortho and I worry a lot!” you huffed at him, “so suffer in the arms of your girlfriend a little longer!” 

“Everyone is staring!” he whimpered. 

“Well if a certain someone didn’t forget to take care of themselves while they got into the new dlc for Gao Gao Shield and Sword...” Idia whined in response.

“I needed to complete the GaoDex before anyone else! I was one Gao Gao away from completing it, before this upstart mystery player LilV actually managed to beat me--” he buried his face in his palms. “I was so close...” 

“There there.” you tried to rub his back as best as you could. “Isn’t there another dlc still coming out later this year?” He brightened up at that.

“That’s right, I’ll start training my resistance to hunger and--” he winced at the glare you shoot at him.

“If you’re going to do it, do it in a healthy manner Idia.” you frowned, “if not for me--then for Ortho.” 

He paused, as he lowered the hands covering his face to stare at your face. You were genuinely worried for his sake, and he thought: ‘oh no, this is like picking the wrong choice in Water Crest: Seven Dorms and my support level is going down!’ he inwardly panicked, ‘I worked pretty hard to grind to level S! Of course I need to maintain it because I--’ he felt his face flush red. ‘because I really like [Name]... and I don’t want her to worry so--’ 

“I’ll... I’ll be more careful.” he looked away, bashful, and you stared at him--surprised. You didn’t think it would be easy--he loved gaming. You wouldn’t want him to change--only to take care of himself more. 

So now that he was saying this then--

‘I’ll meet him halfway.’ you decided.

“Next time I’ll stay with you.” you said, with a sweet smile. “so if you get caught up in it, I’ll get you back on track.”

“Are you sure? You might get bored?” 

“Now why would I get bored?” you shoot him a sly smile, “I’m spending time with my boyfriend after all~” 

“...” 

“Ah! Idia you’re heating up!” 

“That’s because--! Ughh--! I didn’t realize there was an SS support conversation!” 

“A what?” 

--

“So are your horns heavy?” 

Malleus cocked his head at your sudden question.

“I’m... confused... with this question, bright light.” 

“Eh...” you move your hands around as you spoke, “I don’t know, I guess I was just curious if your horns... like maybe had a certain weight to them? Like... does your neck hurt?” you tilted your head. “Like... does it feel like when you’re holding a staff? Maybe?” You paused as you looked back at the dark fae.

“Sorry, was that a weird question? Is it... intrusive? Or something?” 

“No it is not.” he shook his head gently. “I suppose I can not really tell. I have had my horns all my life so I can not say if they are light or heavy.” 

“Could I try--like seeing if they’re heavy?” He quirked his brow in response.

“You can try,” he paused, “but how exactly will you do that, bright light?” 

“Like this.” With barely a blink, you gestured for him to crouch lower. He did so--confused. When you suddenly picked Malleus up into your arms, you do so with such a smoothness that he froze. 

“Huh, your horns are slightly heavy I think.” You adjusted him in your arms, you definitely felt a difference in weight closer to the side where his horns were. “Tsunotarou? Bright eyes? Two hundred and two centimeters? Malmal? Are you okay?” 

(You were unaware of Sebek behind you, who had attempted to rush out to save his young lord. Lilia pulled him back with one hand, his other hand covered his guffaw. On his other side, Silver was very awake--also surprised that a human girl was able to just sweep the young lord into you arms with barely a flinch or stagger.)

You squinted at him, only to realize his pupils were wide--wider than you’ve ever seen before. His lips were parted slightly, as he stared at you. He looked absolutely stunned. 

“Um? Are you okay--” 

“Heh...” Malleus raised a hand to his lips, before he started laughing out loud.

“Woah Malmal, you look sort of... crazy.” 

“Heheh... Hahahah!” Malleus laughed, “Interesting! So very fascinating, my bright light.” 

“Uh?” 

“To think you would have the gall to lift the Heir to the Valley of Thorns--to think you had the strength to do so--will you ever stop being so intriguing, my bright light?” 

“I’ll try not too?” you replied, in a confused tone, and Malleus continued to chuckle lightly in your arms. His eyes became gentle at your response. 

‘I keep wondering why I find you so fascinating...’ he mused, ‘but it is truly simple--you are not afraid to treat me as... myself I suppose. You did not see me as Heir of the Valley of Thrones--you saw me as a man with horns-- a man with bright eyes--’  

‘You do not treat me as delicate... but at the same time, you do not treat me as something to be feared.’ 

‘You are like a light... a light with the potential to burn away all the darkness...’ he held your confused gaze, ‘will you do it? Bright light? Will you persevere in this world not yours--and show it how bright you can be?’ 

‘Whether you do or not--you are perhaps, the only one, the first one I can consider a friend--an equal.’ 

“You look really deep in thought, bright eyes.” You said, and he hummed. 

“It is nothing.” When you moved to let him down, Malleus’s arms looped its way around your neck. 

“Ah?” 

“I would like to stay in your arms for a little longer, bright light.” He met your gaze, and you blushed at the intensity in those eyes. “Would you indulge me?” 

“--That is... of course, Tsunotaro.” His smile widened, and your heart melted at how genuinely happy it was. To think he used to gaze at the world with such sadness...

If little things like this was enough to make him happy, then you want to do it more often. 

--

Ai’s Glossary For TWST Swear Words *I primarily came up with this because I don’t think swear words are the same in different worlds--? So I decided I should just come up with them.  (✧≖‿ゝ≖) 

- “Oh my Queen” / “Sweet Witch” / “Dear Sorcerer” ... you get the drill   - basically equivalent to our “oh my god”, “sweet lord”, “dear god”

- “Oh carp” - unique to the Octavinelle dorm. It’s basically “oh crap” or “oh shit.” Variation include “holy carp.” 

- “Oh scarab” - unique to the Scarabia dorm. Perhaps specifically unique to Jamil too. It’s the same as above, except he uses scarab instead of carp. 

[pizzazz-party]

Ring Analysis Part 1: Synchronizing— How It Works and What It Tells Us About Ring

...As well as the world he lives in. Our buddy Ring may explain very little about himself, but he doesn’t need to if you’re paying—obsessive—attention to detail.

(Gameplay spoilers up to World 20 under the cut.)

For a mechanic that’s important enough to merit a cutscene, and then goes on to envelop every part of the game, “synchronizing” gets a handful of lines before it’s never explicitly brought up again.

So let’s go over this scene.

“Synchronizing” is, at first glance, a simple exchange of traits. That’s not entirely wrong. Trainee does physically take on characteristics specific to Ring, like the flaming hair, and Ring does gain access to her heartbeat reading, sort of like a living stethoscope.

But what syncing actually is, is a symbiotic relationship. It’s both participants “recalibrating” themselves to the other as best as each of them are able. For a flesh-and-blood partner that’s not built for syncing, this means physically changing to become something a little closer to Ring. (More on that later.) For Ring, a magical being designed with the extra sensory input in mind, it invisibly grants him access to the other’s most invaluable resource: their exercise energy.

Like synchronizing, “exercise energy” is another lovely concept that was mentioned once and then never again. So much so that I’ve been accidentally calling it “fitness energy” for weeks and am still trying to correct my reflexes.

But exercise energy is everything. If all it takes is a simple read of a heartbeat to jumpstart a sync bond, exercise energy is the glue that cements it together. Because Ring and Trainee don’t stop being synced whenever they’re not physically touching. They separate all the time. They can put a little distance between themselves and still be at the height of synchronization, even. But let’s take a step back for a moment, and talk about that “physically changing to become something a little closer to Ring” aspect.

Say that Trainee is doing a leg move at peak performance. Her hair is flaring up. Her legs are glowing that same yellowish hue—because they’re full of exercise energy. That’s what that is. That’s what it must be. It’s what Ring himself is partially made of, seeing as the same stuff flows through his veinlike tubes. Seriously. Look at this. It’s the same goddamn color.

I can’t understate how incredibly important exercise energy is. To synchronizing, to Ring, and to literally everything else. Exercise energy is a type of life energy. In the world of Ring Fit, it’s in everything, everywhere—in varying levels of purity and concentration. When Trainee is performing a fit skill, she almost seems to absorb a mystical...something... from the open air around her, as she charges up a skill. Thin lines of light streak towards her as she lights up, not away. See for yourself.

Trainee isn’t a normal inhabitant of “Planet Fitness.” She doesn’t know how to manipulate exercise energy very well on her own. It looks like being synced with Ring has made her somewhat biologically closer to being made of exercise energy herself, and with that? The slight ability to absorb it from the air around her. It’s a really small thing, likely just a tiny boost of power she’s drawing in from her surroundings (and returning right back after a move is complete). But it’s there. It’s visibly happening. With one exception, this doesn’t occur outside of a fit battle. And that makes sense. A fit skill taking more energy than an air blast is very reasonable. Those crates littering the place are a lot less hardy than...whatever you would classify Monsters as. 

I mentioned an exception. Here it is:

Victory posing is such an odd little tradition, isn’t it? It’s unskippable; Ring always insists on it. And at first glance, his instructions are weird. “Pull in energy from the ground” sounds a bit like nonsense...except in this shot, Trainee is actually standing on a glowing platform full of Exercise Energy. (Yes, that’s what that is.) The moment she’s done charging her squat power, thin lines of light streak upwards— some into Trainee. And when she raises her arms, she expels all that excess energy into the open air. You can watch the process here.

And that’s where most of the EXP from victory posing comes from—from the well of exercise energy humming beneath her feet.

Exercise energy is life energy in constant motion. It’s created (for a lack of a better word) constantly as the body moves and burns calories. It’s also expelled constantly, and this is most visible when Trainee works out. It is not, under any circumstances, meant to be trapped in the body forever. But the act of having possessed any of it at all gives Trainee EXP, a byproduct, which can be kept forever.

———

Ring says in the initial cutscene, “The more you exercise, the more synchronized we’ll be!” The more Trainee exercises, the more exercise energy her body holds at time. The more exercise energy she holds, the more alike she and Ring are in that very moment. The more alike they are—the more in sync they are.

———

The two way connection created by synchronizing is closer to a metaphysical fusion of both participants than a simple trade off. Ring’s powers are (almost but not quite) Trainee’s powers. Trainee’s body is (almost but not quite) Ring’s body. It’s both easy and hard to see where one’s work stops and the other’s begins. So let’s lay down some quick facts.

One! In terms of powers—everything Ring and Trainee can do together, Ring can do alone. It’ll be weaker. But he can do it. He’s got his own supply of exercise energy and he’s a master at manipulating it. Ring is not helpless; you are.

Two! The glowing limbs you fight with in a fit battle belong to Ring—not Trainee. Here are even some screen caps of Ring vaguely referring to them both. (It’s even in all-important blue text.)

Three! Ring is always actively contributing to your fit battles. He is never just counting reps or giving tips. As Trainee charges up a fit skill, Ring is constantly channeling the resulting energy into powering up his battle constructs. He is actively aiming said constructs for you, always.

In the case of specific fit skills, where Ring’s battle constructs immediately appear as buff as can be—it’s because Trainee is helping. A lot of what these instances have in common is the fact that the fit skills in question are less... involved?

Imagine being Trainee, and trying to keep a good aim on the enemy as you do the Mountain Climber move. (Or even squats. I do too many of those and I start disconnecting from reality.) The Ring Raise move, on the other hand, is gentler and gives Trainee a clear, unobstructed view of the enemy throughout the whole exercise. It gives her the wiggle room to try her hand at manipulating her own exercise energy directly.

With Ring and Trainee working together, the charge-up effect is therefore instantaneous.

Four! Canonically, despite the two of them being synced, Ring can shut off Trainee’s access to his powers at any time. That’s because, for them to work in the first place, Ring must be consciously activating them. In some animations at the start of a course, Trainee stretches by pulling on him at both ends. This should summon a suction vortex. But it doesn’t. Because Ring knows Trainee is just doing a pre-run stretch.

It explains why you can’t summon a Mega Ab Guard whenever you feel like it; only when Ring suggests it. Or why you can’t just suck up tokens in mini games like Dreadmill (Ring is too honest to help you cheat). Yes, it’s a game mechanic thing. But it’s a mechanic that Ring canonically controls. Trainee absolutely cannot use any of his abilities without his explicit consent. And that’s probably why she hasn’t accidentally killed somebody in combat yet—Ring is super careful. (He’s a professional, you know.)

———

Now that we have a better understanding of what exercise energy is and a better grasp on how Ring works—let’s circle back one more time to that “physically changing to become something a little closer to Ring” aspect. Because there’s one last insane thing we skipped over.

Trainee is initially the baseline in our understanding of what exercise energy looks like in a human being. Her yellow-orange flames are our constant companion—and therefore we get misled, because Trainee is an outlier. She is synced to Ring, and Ring is extraordinary. So she’s not a good example of the average person.

But in this case, despite being a literal master, Guru Andma is.

Guru Andma, “the balance master,” is the only other human character we see using attacks consisting of all three muscle groups. Her fight is a wealth of knowledge in of itself. When she flexes her arms, they fill with RED energy. When she flexes her abdomen, it fills with YELLOW energy. When she flexes her leg, it fills with BLUE energy. This is the standard for human beings. This is normal.

What this implies then, is that synchronizing with Ring has overwritten Trainee’s original energy signature. Ring’s energy is decidedly NOT human. It’s not even fit-skill yellow; it looks close, but it’s really something else entirely. Ring of course can convert Trainee’s energy into traditional reds, yellows, and blues for a fight. (Or at least, he can fake it if he doesn’t have his Color Coding ability. He once mimicked the flames of Dark Influence early on in the game; some superficial color editing is not above him.)

But yeah. Trainee’s energy is now definitely abnormal.

And yet the process didn’t seem to put her in any physical pain? I really doubt Ring would have sprung that on her if it did. (I mean, he still should have asked for permission first.) I’d wager the effects of syncing, as deep as are, aren’t permanent once the bond is dissolved. What Ring is doing—“synchronizing”—is somehow, simultaneously, extremely mystical and yet completely natural.

———

Last segment, before I let you go.

For a long time, I wondered: what are the prerequisites, that denote syncing potential? Not impressive muscles, I’m sure; it’s heavily implied Dragaux once synced with Ring, and he was infamously skinny. Could the general attitude of a person play a role, if Ring’s energy is pure positive exercise energy? Or could it be genetic? Maybe even entirely random?

I wasn’t sure until I fought the four masters, and especially after fighting Guru Andma.

I’ll bet you anything that there’s something inherently flexible about Trainee, for a human. Something more malleable, and therefore more amenable to undergoing the dramatic changes of a sync bond. And I’ll bet you further that it has something to do with the fact that Trainee had zero previous experience wielding exercise energy at the start of the game.

Because Ring tells Trainee she has potential right after identifying that she’s new.

(The less developed a person is initially, the easier it could be to sync with Ring. Whereas a person with more intensive training would be incompatible.)

And if you’re still convinced that Ring was just impressed with her muscles—please remember that Ring is not human, and does not experience life through the same lens. It’s implied he can “see” energy with more than just his eyes. It’s how you can drop him in a new temple in an unfamiliar land and he’ll still be able to tell Trainee when she’s close to the finish line. (He forgot what static stretching was that one time. He does not have these floor plans memorized.) To him, those glowing wells at the end are like straight up beacons.

He was absolutely examining her energy.

———

To Ring, syncing probably isn’t worth writing an entire essay about. It’s natural to him, instinctive. It’s Ring making a promise to watch over someone, and to have their back as they will have his. And I think that’s beautiful. Frustrating to my curiosity, but beautiful.

———

TLDR; Synchronizing is a metaphysical bond sustained through Exercise Energy, a substance mentioned once in World 1 that encompasses the whole game. It exists everywhere in everything, in different variations of intensity and purity. Ring especially is partially made of exercise energy. It’s the glowing stuff in his tubes. There’s more, but that’s the gist of it. DISCLAIMER: This is for fun! I just wanted to try my hand at explaining how the magical sentient Pilates ring works. I feel pretty strongly about my conclusions, but I’ll go back and edit this if/when/where applicable. Thank you for reading.

———

EDIT (June 20, 2021): Updated header image. Also added a link to Ring mimicking DI.

EDIT (August 12, 2021): Added links to part 2 and 3.

———

RING ANALYSIS

Part 1: Synchronizing— How it Works and What It Tells Us About Ring

Part 2: Ring’s Powers—And What They All Have In Common

Part 3: Ring’s Biology and Possible Origins

[mccall-me-maurice]

So This is Just Me Indulging on That Superhero AU

Fun Fact: This AU is over a year old, starting in March 2020 and still developing. I will 100% be drawing this au, and probably making a comic series with it.

Side Note: This post is really long, read at your own risk. It also doesn’t include all of the information of the au, just what I want to elaborate on

Okay So Here’s some Background Information that I want to include because with the comic pages it will be mentioned, but not in the detail that I would like it to be:

AOE - Alliance of the Elements: Consists of Jack Merridew, Roger Volkov, Maurice Bellomo, and Robert Evans. Is Controlled By PotG

PotG - Protectors of the Globe. Global Alliance that trains those with powers and protects the Earth from Extra Terrestrial threats. Funded and run by a member of each developed country.

The Runaways - Those who left PotG in a illegal fashion, exposing secrets about the organisation as they left. Members Unknown, Ralph Allebach is the known leader and only identified member.

Each Characters’ Powers:

- Jack Merridew: The Element of Fire, When angered it comes in fierce blasts that burn anyone it touches who isn’t protected. His powers falter in rain or underwater.

- Ralph Allebach: Controls the Weather, whenever he cries the sky cries as well. He can overcharge when using too much lightning energy, causing a sudden collapse. He can fly as well, along with being able to manipulate Roger’s powers to an extent, if he is focused enough.

- Roger Volkov: The Element of Air, espionage, and infiltration. He is the combat trainer of the AOE and can summon tornadoes and extremely high winds.

- Dyria “Simon” Cortés: Dyria is an alien from the planet Nagneon, born as the heir to the throne. His planet differs heavily from Earth and the PotG gave him the nickname “Simon” and began using he/him pronouns instead of they/them due to Earth’s society. He can summon the energy of the star on his planet and use his body to project its energy. He is one of the things the PotG wishes to understand but never can, as he is too powerful for them to experiment on without catastrophic consequences.

- Maurice Bellomo: The Element of Earth. Maurice can cause Earthquakes, control rock formations, summon plants and control most aspects of nature as a fighting technique. His powers are ever evolving and he is widely considered to be the least powerful Elemental as he hasn’t reached his peak yet. The Earth heals him at high speeds and he causes craters when distressed.

- Sam Pinch: Can manipulate electrical currents with his hands and has super speed due to an Atomic explosion that didn’t kill him or his brother. He talks extraordinarily fast and can remain unseen by most. In order to make up for the calories he burns, he has to eat in high amounts. His super speed is borderline uncontrollable when he is outside of his suit, body moving faster than the mind can comprehend. When manipulating electricity, he causes a blip of energy in the surrounding area. The explosion caused him to have heavy hearing loss and he wears hearing aids.

- Robert Evans: The Element of Water. Robert tends to spend all of his time in the ocean, only emerging when he is needed as he is currently on the throne under the waves. He can breathe underwater and communicates with sea creatures, as well as controlling water on land. His main tactic of combat against his enemies is to remove all forms of water in the human body, however he is known to have summoned hurricanes and high ocean waves to wipe out places.

- Eric Pinch: Has Chaos Magic, which grants him with the ability to manipulate reality in any way he chooses and has electrical powers very similar to Scarlett Witch (Marvel). Was also given to him in the Atomic experiment gone wrong, his body absorbing a certain unidentified element. He can control his powers to an extent, intense emotions causing him to lose his mental balance and become a death machine.

- Peter Curtis - No superpowers, but is an incredibly intelligent hacker and coder who works for Ralph but is currently undercover as a PotG officer. He regularly sabotages the PotG plans to kill the Runaways and trades information with Ralph. He is skilled in manipulating others.

Details of Importance:

- The Elementals are each over 4,000 years old, coming from a long line of those with powers who have since died off. They laid dormant until absolutely needed, the prophecy stating “Those who control the elements laid in deep sleep, growing stronger each day and emerging when the world needs them most.” The elementals came from different areas that correlated with their powers. Jack from a Volcano, Maurice from a Crack in the Earth’s surface, Roger from the middle of a Tornado and Robert from the ocean’s tides. Their identities are kept entirely a secret through masks and identity manipulation tactics.

- Only one of the Runaways laid dormant for some time, his appearance being a mystery as only those who control elements are supposed to emerge from the Earth.

- The Runaways were all once part of PotG, identities and numbers still unknown. They lay as the elementals biggest target currently. One was found in the remains of a thunderstorm with such high winds that his house collapsed, one in the remains of an old minefield, supposedly dead, the other two in an old farmhouse, right after their mother exploded. The runaways hardly pose a real threat, but the leader of PotG wants them to be brought in.

- Chips have been installed in each elemental’s scalp to track their whereabouts as well as their health and stats such as heartbeat, blood pressure, etc.

- Ralph and Jack’s ancestors met once a year to discuss their futures and when they realised extinction was on the horizon, the two populations had Ralph’s biological mother and Jack’s biological father merge their blood together through a cut on their hands, so whenever either of their bloodlines was in peril danger, they could call on each other’s powers to save them.

- The Prophecy was predicted thousands of years ago, after the first extinction of elementals and those who came after found remains of their civilisations. It reads that “Those who must save the world are those who destroy it first - The beings who control the elements lay deep in sleep, growing stronger with each second humanity breathes, and will emerge when the world needs them most. The globe must burn before it can be reconstructed with fragile hands, sculpting a new childhood for the young out of clay. The world must end for it to begin again. It all starts with the flicker of the boy from flame.”

- The Inferia Crystals: The Inferia Crystals were crafted by the ancestors of the elementals and those who set up humanity to build the prophecy. 4 crystals were stolen by the runaways and 4 remain with the elementals. They control certain sectors of the Earth, split into 8 parts thousands of years ago, and help some beings gain control over their own powers.

- Each Elemental has been tagged with a certain number, the correlation of number to person still unknown to those who wear the tags. They come in the form of a dog tag necklace, and they were told to never take them off. Jack is #2098, Roger is #3092, Maurice is #4266, and Robert is #5609

Areas Of Importance:

- PotG base - Unknown location, Run by Roger Volkov’s adoptive father

- The Arena - Located in the centre of the PotG base, The Arena is generally used for entertainment of the wealthy. Prisoners are pitched into a dome, an audience surrounding them on all sides, and are forced to fight to the death or until Roger Volkov’s adoptive father calls it off. Competitors are given poorly crafted weapons and armour, the arena not built for those of great power.

- The Crystalline Cave: The cave in which the walls hold the Prophecy, carved into glass. Each elemental has an area with carvings that glows when they pass by, but it is unknown as to why or what it means.

- The Runaways Base: The Runaway’s base is in an unknown location, on the top of an unknown mountain. They have charms and protective spells up to hide them from the public entirely, area appearing as government owned property.

If you don’t want to see this au, please block the tag

#macksstories

Thank you!!

Let the End, begin

[joon-ipersgirl]

“inked heart” - jjk oneshot

genre: friends to lovers!au, fluff, a teensy dash of angst

pairing: tattoo artist!guk x tattoo artist!reader (f)

summary: jeon jungkook, a rising star in the tattoing world, is looking to take home best large black and white piece at the 25th annual milano tattoo convention. already one to watch from his previous wins as a young artist, pressures rise when his model for the competition cancels half an hour before the show. 

always there when he needs you, you offer to be his model but jungkook is reluctant, especially when the piece is in a more... intimate place. and the fact that he’s been in love with you for the better part of two years. jungkook isn’t too sure how he’s going to survive the next three hours, not when you ask him if he thinks you’re attractive. 

caught between a rock and a hard place, does he lie to you and himself when the prize is on the line? it’s go big or go home...

word count: 5.9k

warnings: some guk pining, cursing, mentions of heartbreaker jimin, the smallest dash of angst about not winning, tattoo artist yoongi

a/n: my first guk piece! thank you guys so much for the love on the preview, especially your comments. they honestly make my day. i hope this lives up to your expectations and you enjoy it just as much. this was a random idea i had and i love tattooed guk so here we are. i tried my best to make sure all the tattoo things were accurate so if they aren’t sorry in advance 😭 this was a lot of fun to write and i’m actually debating on writing some other things for this couple (especially for guk’s birthday), but i’m not sure yet. let me know if y’all are interested though and i’ll see what i can come up with. as always, thank you vi for supporting my shenanigans and reading this like four times lmao. feedback is always welcomed and highly appreciated. enjoy everyone! 

full masterlist // drabbles

Jungkook’s body buzzed with excitement as he squeezed past the bustling bodies at the 25th annual Milano Tattoo Convention. His fourth year at the world’s largest tattooing competition with a chance to take home the prize for “Best Large Black & White” piece against four hundred incredible artists had Jungkook amped up and ready to go. Some of his inspirations - legends in the game - were mere feet away from him as he browsed the almost endless stations filled with merchandise, displays of new tattoo designs, and occupied benches with models. There was almost nothing he enjoyed more than being around the sound of buzzing guns and filling sheets of half-filled paper with sketches his brain had no issues conjuring up but sometimes struggled to complete. Well, except food. And video games. And you. Not really the point though.

He’d been tattooing for almost six years now, from the moment he’d been able to convince Yoongi to let him be his apprentice. Jungkook had wasted no time in starting his own personal tattoo collection, quickly filling in a full sleeve on his right arm going across his right pectoral and another upper half sleeve on his left. Now, he was making his own name in the art world, commissioning pieces solely off his ability to execute various styles well with very little practice. Jungkook was a jack of all trades and very nearly a master of all. He was a risk-taker and it had paid off for him during his time at Milano, taking home “Best Small Black & White” his second year at the ripe age of twenty, and then “Best Medium Black & White” the following year. Yoongi could barely believe it when the judges called his name and announced him the winner but Jungkook knew his mentor’s chest was swollen with pride. This time, though, there were bigger fish to fry - “Best Large Black & White” in a style Jungkook had just begun feeling comfortable with: fine line tattoos.

He paused at the Killer Ink booth where Hori Kashi was working on a beautiful traditional koi fish upper half sleeve design as his phone buzzed. An Instagram notification.

_petuniablooms: hey jungkook! im so sorry this is last minute but i won’t be able to make the convention to be your model. I got a bad case of food poisoning from dinner last night. i hope this doesn’t cost you the comp. but when you’re back in the country, maybe i can schedule an appt? sorry again!

Jungkook blinked slowly. She couldn’t make it? This was not part of his plan. She was supposed to be here in the next half an hour so he would have enough time to complete his piece for judging in four hours. As one of the younger artists at the convention and with immense amounts of talent, people wondered how long Jungkook would be able to sustain his efforts, especially after taking home prizes in one of the major categories two years in a row. Most of them thought he would burn out after his second year or third year, but here he was. Competitive by nature, Jungkook wanted to prove them wrong - that he really did have what it took to be one of the best in the game. A legend in his own right. He shoved his phone back into his black cargo pants pocket and tugged on his curling brown locks. What was he going to do now?

“Guk! Hey, Guk!” He could barely make out your petite frame as you shoved and elbowed your way through the throngs of folk gathered around booths. You were set on getting to him though, your smaller form not holding you back from covering the distance, your brow set in determination whenever he did get glimpses of your face in the crowd.

That was something Jungkook admired about you: your no-nonsense-get-it-done attitude. Friends for almost three years now, he’d seen the way you’d taken charge of almost every opportunity that came your way. You didn’t take no as the final answer and if you couldn’t find a way to make it happen, you created your own. Either way, you got it done. As the first lead female tattoo artist at your shop, Sin City, you’d also made a name for yourself in the tattooing world as a specialist in black and white shading. Your signature though was the three-color-combination color style you developed for your color tattoos. That’s how the two of you had met - the year he’d won “Best Small Black & White”, you’d taken home “Best Medium Color” - and the two of you hadn’t looked back since.

“Gosh, there’s so many people here. It was so hard to find you. I knew I should have checked the Kashi booth first,” you said after finding a pocket of space next to him and hugging his torso.

“Y/N, it’s a convention. Of course there’s going to be a lot of people here,” he replied, wrapping his arms around you, subconsciously looking for comfort in your touch.

Though the two of you mostly had conflicting schedules due to the demand for your work, you did your best to make time for one another. Jungkook had grown accustomed to seeing you every few weeks for lunch or on Friday nights with beer and chicken for Marvel movie marathon weekends. He didn’t dwell on it too much - how ridiculously domestic a lot of your traditions were - not wanting to shake the table and send the precariously perched house of cards pyramid the two of you had created crashing to the ground, upsetting the balance of your friendship. No, Jungkook would leave those thoughts right where they were.

He more felt than saw you roll your eyes as you said, “Yes, Guk. Conventions have lots of people. This just seems like a health and safety hazard though.” Jungkook squeezed you as you pressed closer to him, slightly uncomfortable as more people gathered in the area.

“Alright, let’s go,” he replied, reminding himself to search for the finished koi design afterward as the two of you walked away. “How’d your piece go?”

“So fucking good!” you beamed and turned your face towards him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Though I don’t know if it’ll win this year, the guy seemed to be really pleased and that’s all that matters. Plus, t-shirt sales have gone up. Like way up! Speaking of which, you should buy one. My t-shirt design on your body?” you did the chef’s kiss, “Impeccable!” you exclaimed and grinned.

Your smile was another thing Jungkook admired about you. The faintest dimples appeared when you did and there was almost never a moment when he couldn’t not smile with you. It was a smile that reached your twinkling eyes and illuminated your face with a glow. Like right now, as you’re striking poses and modeling your black and white cityscape background covered with your shop’s name in a candy red color, a tattoo gun positioned to finish the last line of the last letter on the white tee in the middle of the crowded aisle in some of the shortest shorts he’s ever seen you wear in public. When did you get those?

“You know what would look good on my body?” you asked as the pair of you carried on walking. Me, he thought, but knew where this conversation was really going. “One of your tattoo designs!”

Jungkook sighed. “Y/N, we’ve already talked about this -”

“I know, Guk, but you literally have no reason to not tattoo me,” you whined. “You’ve tattooed every single one of your other friends! Hell, even Yoongi has a tattoo by you.”

“Yoongi has what?” the older man asked as he bumped into you two as you passed the registration booth.

“A tattoo by Jungkook,” you pouted, arms crossed.

It wasn’t that Jungkook didn’t want to tattoo you. He just didn’t want to fuck up a design that would be permanently etched into your skin for the rest of your life. He wanted to create something that was beautiful for you, something that really conveyed the importance of your presence in his life, but every time he sat down to do so, nothing seemed good enough. You’d been seriously begging him for the better part of a year to do something - anything - but he’d refused saying that he didn’t have the time. Secretly, he just didn’t want to fail and let you down.

“Ah, that age-old debate. It’ll happen one day, kid,” Yoongi said as he patted your shoulder gently. “What time are you setting up, Jeon? Your model’s supposed to be here soon, right?” Yoongi asked.

“Fuck!” Jungkook shouted, tugging on his hair and startling a few people around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I don’t have one. She can’t make it. I have to find someone else,” he yelled as he took off, no destination really in mind.

“Wait! Guk -” you called after him but he didn’t stop.

Sometimes, being around you was dangerous as Jungkook could quite literally forget what it was he needed to be doing. There was just something about you that made him lose focus, just a little bit. He couldn’t have that right now. Jungkook needed to be on his A-game, scouting a model that would give him consent in - he checked his phone - twelve minutes.

The one time Jungkook needed someone to be interested in his work, there wasn’t a single soul around. Where had all the people who were begging him to schedule them in for a quick session disappeared to? None of the people passing by were interested in getting a random, floral design done by Jeon Jungkook today, unfortunately. It was as though the devil of the tattoo underworld had cursed him the one time he could have used some luck for the sole purpose of being entertained. Circling back to the D-Town Tattoos booth, Jungkook was running out of options. Shit.

“There you are!” you wheezed as you came to a halt and rested your hands on the table in front of you. “Fuck, I forgot how fast you are.”

“Y/N, I don’t have time. I have to find a model -”

“Why don’t you just use Y/N?” Yoongi asked as he calmly took a seat next to his bench, a tall young man following behind him.

“I couldn’t -” Jungkook spluttered, eyes wide.

“Like you said, Jeon, you don’t have time,” Yoongi reminded him, setting up his work station for his client.

Jungkook looked over at you, still slightly hunched over and trying to catch your breath. This was not how he’d wanted to do this. “Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t know if -”

“Fuck yeah, dude!” you said interrupting him. “100%. Let’s do this!”

Jungkook watched as you made yourself comfortable on his workbench, waiting for him to get started. The fact that you weren’t nervous only added to his apprehension, the fear of potentially disappointing you resurfacing and rising in his gut. It felt like he was taking a risk with stakes much higher than he was willing to bet on, but the trust you had in him had him saying, “Okay. Fill out the consent forms and I’ll pull up the design.”

“What are we working with?” you asked curiously, handing the clipboard back over to him, not really reading it and only signing your name in the designated spots.

“Thigh piece,” he murmured, concentrating on finding the correct sketch on his iPad.

“Sounds fun. I know it’s going to be amazing, Guk. Don’t worry,” you reassured him. He smiled warily as you gave his shoulder a tender squeeze.

Nodding more to himself than you, he showed you the design. @_petuninablooms, like her name suggested, loved flowers. So much so, she’d wanted a full piece dedicated to that specific flower as well as whatever other floral arrangements she thought Jungkook could make look pretty against her skin. She’d won his Instagram contest to be his model for free at the convention because of her sentimental design and background as a botanist, something that piqued Jungkook’s interest. Though he was proud of the design, it didn’t seem to fit you.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know if it’ll fit your style,” he said, gesturing to your upper half sleeve. The three faces of Frida Khalo, Nefertiti, and Tomoe Gozen were beautifully designed and organized by you as a symbol of feminine unity - embodying passion, leadership, and grace. A much edgier piece than what currently sat on the screen of his iPad designed for his winner, he wasn’t sure how you’d feel about the softer image.

“I told you, Guk. You could tattoo anything on me and I’d be happy. Maybe even more happy than if you’d let me tattoo you. I just want to have something of yours on me - support your craft, you know? Besides,” you said zooming in on the flowers, your gold rings shining in the light, “I like petunias.” Jungkook wasn’t sure if you were only saying this to make him feel better, but he was grateful for your encouragement anyway.

“Uh, I’m going to need you to take your shorts off,” he said hesitantly. “Yoongi, this isn’t against the rules, right? Like having another artist sit for you?” Jungkook asked, turning to give you some privacy though anyone walking past would be able to see you shimmy out of them as there was no curtain or door to shield you.

“Nope. Not that I’ve read,” Yoongi replied, concentrating on his design. Jungkook nodded, steeling himself to focus and get the job done. What he wasn’t expecting was to see you adjusting the band of some very high-waisted, very skimpy, black panties. He nearly choked.

“Does this need to be further up? If not, I can take them off for you. I don’t -”

“No!” Jungkook cried out as he tore his eyes away from the curve of your ass. “I can just move the stencil. It’ll be fine,” he continued after clearing his throat.

“Okay,” you said awkwardly. Jungkook apologized for his outburst as he wheeled himself over to sit in front of you on his little stool. He was making a much bigger deal of this entire situation that it needed to be. He’d seen you in a bikini before, but something about seeing you in your underwear sitting before him was different.

“Relax, Jeon. It’s only a thigh!” Yoongi teased, his head down but his shit-eating grin very much present as he worked on the shading on his client’s forearm. Though Yoongi would never say anything to you out of respect for Jungkook, Jungkook knew Yoongi enjoyed putting him through the wringer whenever you were around.

“Not just a thigh! It belongs to me. My thigh is prime real estate, Min Yoongi. There’s a lot of artists that have been wanting to get in on this,” you joked. Jungkook laughed as he prepped your skin for placing the stencil with rubbing alcohol, hating the fact that he couldn’t feel your skin through the latex gloves but also grateful for the sensory blocker. He knew you were right though - lots of artists did want to work on you and have you walk around with their work as free endorsement of their skill. Honestly, this was a prime opportunity and he should make the most of it.

“Would you be okay with me changing this larger petunia into a mandala? I know you like those,” Jungkook suggested.

“Guk, this is your piece. I told you, I’m good with whatever,” you said cheerfully.

“Keep talking like that I’ll tattoo my name on your ass,” he quipped as he adjusted the design before placing it.

“Make it your face and we just may have a deal,” you shot back and Yoongi gagged from his corner. Jungkook did not want to think about the potential implication of those words.

He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive the next three and a half hours with you making suggestive comments while standing in your barely-there underwear, but he was going to have to. Of course, as friends, you’d always had the occasional flirty banter but the “Best Large Black & White” prize was calling his name and God did he want to win. He double-checked the placement of the design as it stretched from just above your hip bone to finish in the middle of your thigh. His adjustments were so precise, it covered the expanse of your thigh damn near perfectly. Jungkook grinned.

“Ready?” he asked, holding up a mirror as you checked out the placement, twisting from side to side.

“Yeah, looks great. How do you want me?”

Jungkook paused as he set up his rolling tray filled with his ink caps and laid out his sterilized needles. There were more than a few ways he could answer that but he settled on, “However you’re most comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”

You laughed and climbed onto the bench, giving Jungkook a perfect view of your ass, before you settled against the leather on your left side. Jungkook adjusted the height of his seat so he could position on your thigh with your bent knee resting against the bench and angled towards him. Confirming you were indeed comfortable, Jungkook gently rubbed the A&D ointment across the first section of the design, taking slightly longer than necessary, and got to work. There was a little over three hours to get it done.

He worked diligently as he traced the fine lines of the flower petals, slipping into his professional mode. A small crowd had gathered around the booth, intrigued to see him work on you. Most of the folks there knew about your friendship from social media and mutual community-work settings, how the two of you had bonded over your shared love of tattoos, but seeing the two of you together like this was a real treat. He didn’t feel any pressure as the cameras fought to get a glimpse of him working though. Jungkook did well under pressure but there was a lot riding on this one piece. For him and for you. He wouldn’t disappoint you though. He couldn’t. Not when you looked so peaceful as he worked on the tattoo. Jungkook would win and make you proud.

“Guk, I have a question.”

“What’s up?”

“Would you fuck me?” Jungkook was thankful he’d removed the needle from your skin to wipe off the extra ointment as there was no doubt in his mind he would have fucked up had it been there.

“What?” he asked, slightly breathless.

“Okay, maybe that was a bit vulgar. I guess what I mean is do you think I’m attractive? Like -” you tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, “- a woman you’d spend the night with. Date long-term. That sort of thing,” you finished. Jungkook swallowed before he spoke.

“Uh, yeah. You’re an attractive person.” Jungkook replied, avoiding eye contact with you as he went back to tracing the lines and tried not to think of you under him, around him, on top of - “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship - since anyone has even asked me on a date. Seokjin never called me back after we went for drinks that one time and Jimin - nevermind actually,” you sighed and Jungkook re-lived the memory of Park Jimin with you - the second man to break your heart in a matter of months. His face soured as he remembered how inconsolable you were the first few months after the breakup and how badly he’d wanted to take a baseball bat to Jimin’s very nice, very expensive car. “Maybe I’m unapproachable. Yoongi, am I unapproachable?” you called over to him.

“Yes,” he said dryly, not bothering to look at you. You scoffed in response.

“You’re never the best person to ask, you old man! People barely talk to you,” you murmured.

“Y/N, you’re great,” Jungkook said in response. “You’re more than great actually, but maybe now isn’t the time to get into a relationship?”

“Why not? I have a stable job, I’m cool -”

“Barely!” Yoongi called over. Jungkook watched you shoot Yoongi the finger before you began speaking again.

“- and I’m charming. It would be nice if someone could appreciate that too, someone that wasn’t only me.”

“Hey! I appreciate you!” Jungkook blurted out, slightly offended.

“Yeah, like a friend. Guk, you know you don’t -”

“Don’t say it. Don’t tell me I don’t count, Y/N.”

“But Jungkook -”

Jungkook paused and set his gun down. “No. No ‘but Guk’, Y/N. I appreciate you, more than you know or understand. I get that we’re friends and I know you value our friendship, but you don’t get to tell me I don’t count because you think you know how I feel about you. Please don’t let your perception of my words and actions let you label them “friendly” when they’re something else.” Jungkook picked his gun back up, avoiding your gaze again, slightly alarmed by his unplanned confession.

“What? What do you mean ‘something different’?” you asked, confused. “Was I supposed to read this any differently after you said -”

“You weren’t supposed to know. You weren’t supposed to find out - not like this at least,” he muttered. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Just don’t count me out okay, Y/N? Not this time. Can we talk about this later though? I just -”

Before he could finish, Jungkook’s alarm went off, signaling only an hour and a half left before he needed to be taking you for judgement. “Okay, Guk. I won’t count you out. Finish,” you said softly as you nodded to your tattoo and chewed your lip in thought.

With time against him, you and Jungkook no longer conversed, though the conversation rattled in his brain like loose change in a tin can. He would need much more than a penny for his thoughts if he wanted to get out of this situation. The hasty confession had Jungkook wondering if he’s said too much too soon. Had he finally sent the house of cards tumbling down? It’s not that he hadn’t wanted to say anything, but the fear of you not meaning what you’d said frightened him. Memories of the two of you curled up on his aging leather sofa flickered across his mind’s eye and he wondered if this fuck up was worse than the time he’d quickly denied having any romantic feelings for you the morning after a drunk confession and you’d reciprocated the feelings. It had taken a few months for things to return back to any type of normal, an uneasy tension having over you both whenever you’d met up. Every few seconds his eyes flitted to your face, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever you were thinking sprawled across your forehead in your big, looping handwriting but your eyes were closed and your face fairly serene as you let him work in silence.

And work he did, shoving the thoughts to the back of his mind, finishing the last lines of the final petunia and filling in the mandala with various degrees of shading. He admired the delicacy of his work against your smooth skin, deciding it did suit you, much more than he could have hoped. Jungkook was actually slightly disappointed he was close to finishing, already missing the intimacy of working on you, but also eager to get you on stage so people could see his work. He’d gotten lost in the act like he usually did, concentration never breaking as the rest of the Milano Convention continued in full effect around him. Why had he waited so long to do this? You were a dream to work on, never flinching even as he finished up the minute shading of your tattoo, the worst part for many people. A true tattoo veteran with a hell of a pain tolerance. Roughly ten minutes left in the session, Jungkook wrapped up the piece.

“All done,” he said softly, wiping away the excess ointment and admiring his work briefly.

He heard you gasp as you propped yourself up to get a better view of it. “Holy fuck, Jungkook! It’s perfect. I love it!” you whispered in amazement and Jungkook smiled, relieved to not have disappointed you.

“Let me get some pictures, yeah?” You nodded and Jungkook snapped a few shots, promising to send them to you after the convention ended.

“Looks good, Jeon. And you got it done in time. You learned well,” Yoongi chuckled as Jungkook weakly punched his shoulder. “Are you happy, Y/N?” Yoongi asked as he packed up his spare equipment while his client waited patiently to be escorted to judging.

“Happy?” you scoffed, checking the tattoo out again in the mirror. “How about fucking ecstatic? I’m absolutely in love. Seriously Guk, thank you,” you beamed and launched yourself at him for a hug. Jungkook made eye contact with Yoongi as he held you tight in his arms, the older man relaying a silent message to his younger apprentice through raised eyebrows and crossed arms.

“Alright, alright. You can stare at it more later. We have to get to the judges and make it through all these people so,” Jungkook trailed off, letting you go while simultaneously ushering you out of their designated little space. Agreeing, you grabbed your teeny shorts and shoved your feet back into your sneakers. Jungkook stayed close behind you in an effort to cover your very visible, very exposed ass from peering eyes as you moved through the crowd. As much as he hated to admit it, he was really protective of you.

The trek to the judging station wasn’t as official as the name made it sound. It was really just a small stage raised a few inches above the ground with a table and enough chairs to seat the three judges as artists and their models were scored based on design, complexity, and overall execution. This year’s judges were Jung Hoseok of J’s Tailored Tattoos, Kim Namjoon of Mono & Moon, and Kim Taehyung of Vintage Vante. The three of them were rightfully deemed the gods of the tattoo world and Jungkook looked up to them immensely, each of them having numerous titles on the world stage in countries like Brasil, the United Kingdom, and Australia. Nerves rolled in Jungkook’s belly as he waited in the crowd with you for the host to call his name. A win with these guys as the judges would really put some of those naysayers in their place and Jungkook shuffled in place behind you, antsy.

“What’s wrong, Guk?’ you whispered to him as another artist and model headed on stage.

“What if they don’t like it?” he murmured anxiously.

“Do you like it?” Jungkook nodded. “Then that’s all that really matters. You’re insanely talented and I know they’re some of your role models, but they’re fucked if they don’t see how incredible you are. You’ve got this, Guk,” you said in a hushed tone as Yoongi took the stage with his model from earlier. Jungkook smiled into the back of your head as you stood in front of him and gave his hand a squeeze. Jungkook could always count on you.

It was now his turn. Standing with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other firmly gripping your shorts, Jungkook watched as the judges made their notes on their scoring sheets. You turned graciously to give all three of them the best view of the tattoo. And while he knows that there are probably a few people who’d be overjoyed at the challenges he faced to get to this moment, Jungkook didn’t care. Not when your uplifting words still wrapped around him, affirming his skill and talents. He was proud of what he’d accomplished today and while winning was the ultimate goal, he was also at ease because he’d succeeded in fulfilling one of your wishes and you were happy. Jungkook could only smile as you showered him with praise and tried to convince him to tattoo you again as the judging continued.

The two of you stood with Yoongi, chatting as the judges tallied up the scores. He tried to stay still as he watched the host organize the names of the winning artists, losing interest in the conversation as the judges confirmed the final results. One by one, the host read the categories and its corresponding champion. “For Best Medium Color,” the host paused for dramatic effect, “Min Yoongi!” Jungkook cheered loudly with you as his mentor took the stage with his model showing off the antique pocket watch and a royal flush poker hand on top of a wispy background.

Jungkook’s heart hammered in his chest, the sensation almost worse than his first year at the convention as Best Large Black & White was read out. Though he wanted to look calm and collected on the outside, Jungkook was sure he looked anything but. The audience created their own drumroll as the anticipation built - “Jeon Jungkook!”

Your squeal kickstarted Jungkook’s brain as he processed his win. He’d really done it? A few people around him clapped him on the shoulders in congratulations as he was pushed towards the stage to collect his prize and take his place beside the host. “Congratulations, Jungkook! One of the few artists to take home all three wins in one category,” the host announced. If only they knew what it took to get there. Jungkook felt like he was on cloud nine as he shook hands with the judges and took his picture with you and them, prize in hand. He knew he was positively glowing with pride.

“Guk, you did it! I told you that you could!” you cheered as you bounced up and down in happiness and excitement as they moved onto Best Large Color. He smiled down at you and unable to help himself any longer, he scooped you up into his arms, burying his face in your neck.

“Thank you, Y/N!” He repeated the phrase earnestly as if saying it over and over again would finally let you understand just how grateful he was but all it really did was make you giggle as his breath tickled your skin. “Seriously, I really couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I know,” you joked and flipped your hair. You both laughed and you pulled him in for another hug as you said, “Of course, Guk. I’m always here for you. Always,” you punctuated with a squeeze and a smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed. “You are always here for me,” he said vaguely as he stared down at you in his arms.

“Guk?” you queried as he stared off into the distance.

“This isn’t happening because I won. I don’t want you to think that I only do things like this when I’m any sort of intoxicated, okay?” Jungkook clarified as his confidence grew.

“Things like what?”

“Like confess and kiss you,” he stated.

“Kiss me? You’ve never-”

“Yes, I know I’ve never kissed you. But I want to. Is that okay?” Jungkook asked seriously.

“Yes. More than okay,” you whispered.

It was all Jungkook needed to hear. He was finally kissing you. A soft kiss that grew the longer you stood pressed together in the middle of the convention floor. Jungkook had had his fair share of first kisses, but yours was the one he’d remember for the rest of his life. Maybe because it was you. Maybe that’s why it would always be his favorite. He’d always refrained from putting himself in any situation where he’d be even the slightest bit tempted but now, after having you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let you go. The overwhelming sensation that it was actually happening was quickly quelled by the insurmountable joy he felt as you kissed because it was actually happening.

Jungkook may have ascended into another plane as your fingers curled into the hair at the base of his neck and you pulled him further into you. Though he really didn’t want you to think he was only doing this because he’d won, the courage it gave him really did help. The feeling of winning nearly paled in comparison from the brief, sweet taste that was you. Even if he’d never won tonight, he would have considered himself a winner regardless from the kiss alone. Jungkook sighed into you as he savored the moment. Through the pounding of blood in his ears, he could vaguely make out the hoots and hollers of passerbyers as he held you close. Lost in you once again, Jungkook forced himself to remember your earlier conversation.

“Did you really mean it though?” he asked, one arm still wrapped tightly around your waist and the other holding onto his golden plaque.

“Mean what?”

“Not counting me out.”

“Did you mean what you said?” you countered. “Even if I wasn’t supposed to find out this way.”

“Yes, and all the times before then,” he answered truthfully. “So, does this mean you’ll have me?”

“Absolutely. Totally. With my entire hea-” He pressed repeated kisses against your mouth, your teeth clashing as you both smiled, neither of you willing to break apart until a familiar voice cleared its throat.

“I leave for five minutes and this is how I find you. Took you long enough though. Be that as it may, are you done?” Yoongi asked, expression wry and his own prize peeking out of his duffle bag. “I could use some food before we head back to the hotel and Y/N is going to need that tattoo bandaged.”

“Right, right,” Jungkook answered and let you go albeit reluctantly. “We’ll meet you at the car?” Yoongi nodded.

“Don’t take forever. I will leave you. Both of you,” Yoongi warned as he headed off to the exit without any further questions.

Back at the booth, Jungkook applied a generous amount of ointment to the piece before securing it with a bandage and double-checking the tape. Helping you step into your shorts, he smiled at the tattoo. Not only would it be a great reminder of a great win, it would also signify the milestone in your friendship - relationship? - was taking. “Told you that you should’ve tattooed me sooner,” you quipped as you gingerly pulled up your shorts.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he asked, playing along as he quickly packed up his things.

“You would have won much sooner,” you murmured, standing before him.

“Really? What would have been my prize instead? Because that plaque is pretty great.” Jungkook sat his bag on the ground and rested his hands on your hips.

“Better than me?” you grinned and he pressed his lips to yours again.

“Looks like I’ll have to come up with another design then,” he hummed.

“Or you can let me and I can tattoo you,” you suggested with a devilish grin.

“And what do you propose?”

“My name. Right here,” you pointed to the empty space on the left side of his chest.

“Only if you let me tattoo my face on your ass,” he joked and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Deal,” you laughed.

Jungkook said nothing further, only smiled as he laced his fingers between yours and tugged you in the direction of the exit. “Great. I’ll have everything arranged,” he replied. Laughing with you in these moments meant so much to him and while he wasn’t sure what would happen between you after you left the convention and headed home, he would take pleasure in these moments for as long as you’d let him. As the two of you exited the building and hustled across the busy street to the parking garage so Yoongi wouldn’t have an excuse to leave you, Jungkook wondered if you’d known that your name had been inked over his heart a long, long time ago.

full masterlist // drabbles

ⓒ joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[lilfellasblog]

Truly *Nothing* Is Spookier Than Self-Care

Summary: Janus absolutely despises being accepted by Thomas and the Light Sides. He can’t help but notice how they very much do not put themselves first. He decides to change that.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience. This story comes from this ask by @foreverfangirlingalways! Thank you so much for the inspiration and the wonderful prompt! I hope I did it justice!

TW: very light angst, like almost no angst. Small amounts of stress and mild flailing to adapt when the plan doesn't go perfectly.

Word count: 2648

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Although Janus was grateful to be accepted by his Host, an aspect of such that he absolutely loved was seeing just how dysfunctional the Light Sides were in their self-care. They certainly had a great deal of work to do, but they held themselves to such high standards, they seemed to constantly move around every waking moment. Janus had been attempting to get the Light Sides more focused on taking care of themselves throughout the day, but the key word here is attempting. They’d thank him for his suggestion and promise they’d do it later.

Janus wondered why he was the one stuck with Deceit as a name.

It was now time for more drastic measures that he hoped wouldn’t land him with a giant frog again. He knew he’d have to go one at a time if he wanted any chance of success, so he decided to target each Side according to the level of concern he had for them. Naturally, this meant Roman would be his first vict- *cough* recipient.

He found Roman precisely where he’d expect him: inside his en suite gym, hair damp with perspiration.

“In the gym again? Don’t you have anything else to do with your spare time?” Janus asked innocently.

Roman started and placed the weight he’d been lifting on the ground. “Greetings Janus! And I do, there’s just always room for improvement!”

Hm, direct won’t work with him in this. Interesting. “I was wondering if you might help me with a sewing project, although I see you’re busy.”

Roman grabbed a nearby towel to wipe his face. “I’m never too busy to assist a Side in need! What is it you’d like my assistance on?”

Janus hummed. “I was hoping to experiment with a few costume ideas for Halloween. I think a pirate might be suitable for me.”

Roman grinned, excitement beginning to shine in his eyes. “Indeed! Allow me a few minutes to wash up, I’ll join you!” He waved his hand. “You’ll find two sewing stations in my room!” He pranced off to the bathroom without another word.

“Don’t take too long!” Janus called after him, hoping he wouldn’t have to wait much longer than an hour for the prince to get his appearance in order.

He only had to wait a half hour before Roman joined him in the room, hair still slightly damp. Janus internally cheered when Roman didn’t have his ridiculously complicated prince uniform on, instead wearing a red sweater with pumpkins stitched on.

“Roman, would you mind trying on the clothes once I’ve finished them? We have similar body types, although you’re more muscular, and my current outfit is simply a bear to get on and off.”

Roman blinked in surprise. “I… I suppose I could, are you certain you want me to do that?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, yes.”

After another moment of prolonged shock, Roman pulled himself together and struck a pose, exaggerated grin on his face. “Well far be it from a prince to forsake a Side in their hour of need!”

Janus smiled, relieved. “Wonderful.” He summoned his nearly-completed pirate costume: tight black pants, calf-high boots, and a billowy shirt with a deep V-neck. “I’m just about to finish these, would you mind taking a look at the seams on the outside of the leg and in the armpit of the shirt? I want to make sure I’ve pinned those in a way that won’t pull.”

Roman and Janus discussed the different options they had for stitching, and once they’d decided Janus had Roman put in the stitching for the pants while he finished stitching the shirt. Janus was pleased that Roman had decided to go for a more complex stitch; he knew the Side enjoyed getting absorbed in a task, and that he enjoyed sewing. Sure enough, after an hour, he looked over and saw Roman’s irises sparkling in red and gold, tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth. 4 hours later, and they’d both finished.

Janus stretched, watching Roman bounce slightly in his seat from excitement. “Well Roman, we did good work. Would you try these on?”

Roman hesitated, then forced himself to smile, Janus watching him carefully. “Certainly! Are you sure you don’t want to?”

“I am, I’d hate to keep getting in and out of my outfit, especially if changes need to be made.”

Roman inhaled deeply and took the clothes, holding them carefully. “I shall not dilly-dally then! I shall return soon!”

Janus plastered a wide smile on his face. “Wonderful!”

That was another thing, the sheer amount of smiling the Light Sides did and how he found himself going along with it. It made his face hurt at time from the sheer amount of smiling.

Roman emerged, posture stiff and forced but proud. Janus raised both eyebrows.

“Roman, you look wonderful! Stand in front of the mirror, won’t you?”

The prince shuffled over, eyes darting between himself and the ground.

Janus appraised the Side before him, and was relieved he wouldn’t have to lie about a single thing. “Goodness Roman, you like incredible! The skin-tight pants look wonderful on your legs, and the shirt highlights your figure! I must say, I’m quite jealous. I’ve been also considering going as a bard this year, why don’t you just take this costume? I shows off all of your muscles and your broad shoulders especially!”

Roman looked at him, surprised. “Are you certain? You’ve spent so long on this, I couldn’t possibly-”

“I am, I’ll enjoy knowing you’re enjoying something I made. Come now, Thomas is tired, and it’s best to look in the distance to prevent eye strain. Would you like to watch some Disney movies?”

Roman frowned and looked back towards where his en suite gym was. “I really should be getting back to a workout…”

“Nonsense, you’ve been working out so much, and you’ve been working hard in other areas. You’ll be more productive after some rest.”

Janus let out a breath when Roman shrugged and summoned a large television. He got some beanbags and snacks for them, and Janus watched as Roman slowly relaxed and got engrossed in the movies, eagerly agreeing to watch one after the other. Once dinner rolled around, Janus suggested a famILY movie night, which got Patton on board, which meant everyone would attend. Roman had changed back into his pumpkin sweater, and Janus was the last one awake, pleased to see the other Sides asleep, surrounded by snacks and illuminated by the glow of the television. He sank out to his room, and planned his next intervention.

/////

Janus waited a week so as to not draw any suspicion to himself, and found Patton in the kitchen. He was typing furiously on a tablet, Thomas currently working through whether or not he should use his celebrity status to get ahead in line so he could get back to editing a new video faster so he could get that out to his fans so he could-

He pulled his mind back from Patton’s, reeling slightly.

You need this more than I thought.

Janus backed up a bit, then walked more heavily to announce his presence to Patton. Patton looked up at him happily.

“Heya Janus! What can I do ya for?”

Janus smiled easily, the cheerful Side great at lifting moods. “I see you’re in the middle of something, but once you get a moment, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me bake something? It’s a skill I’d like to acquire.”

Patton lit up. “Well sure!! Give me just a few minutes and I’ll be right with you!”

Janus set a tea kettle to boil and put a mint tea bag in Patton’s mug and a black tea bag in his own. Just as Patton sighed and set the tablet on the table, the kettle went off and Janus poured the water before Patton could do it. He didn’t miss how Patton rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck.

He gently set the mug of tea in front of Patton. Patton lifted and smelled it, closing his eyes.

“Mmmmmm, mint, my favorite!”

“Oh really? Lucky guess, I suppose.”

Patton looked up at him knowingly. “You’re good at guessing,” he teased.

“Thank you for noticing. I’ve noticed that Thomas’ Sides have been quite busy lately. Do you think a chocolate beet cake would go over well?”

“Do I?!” Patton asked, eyes shining and the edges of his irises glowing light blue.

Patton donned plastic gloves and got to work peeling and grating the beets, while Janus combined the wet and dry ingredients in separate bowls. He asked Patton for reassurance on occasion, despite being confident in his abilities. He let Patton take over once it was time to combine everything and put it in the oven.

Patton tapped his finger against his chin. “Hmmmmm… what kind of frosting should we do? I’m thinking either buttercream or ganache, what do you think?”

Janus shrugged. “Why not just store-bought frosting? It seems easier.”

Patton looked at him incredulously. “For a beet cake?! Oh no, we may as well make something while it’s baking!”

Shitshitshitshitshitshit- Janus frantically thought back to the brief research he’d done on cakes.

“How about ganache? I’ve always been intrigued about that.”

“Sure!” Patton chirped. Janus let out a breath as Patton bounded over to the fridge to grab heavy cream. Patton showed Janus how to make ganache, and Janus was surprised and relieved at how simple it was.

As the cake cooked and the ganache cooled, Janus and Patton chatted amicably, Janus asking questions about something Patton would bring up and watching Patton’s eyes become bluer and bluer as he kept talking. The oven pinged, and Janus convinced Patton that a game of cards was in order while they let the cake cool. One game led to five, and by then it was time to gently reheat the ganache and pour it over the cake.

Patton jumped when he realized the time. “Oh gosh!! I’m so sorry, I don’t have dinner planned! I can-”

“Don’t worry about it Patton,” Janus interrupted. “I actually have a recipe I’ve been meaning to try out if you don’t mind relinquishing the kitchen?”

Patton smiled nervously. “Do you want any help?”

I might have to adjust my plan. “No, but I would like some pleasant company. You’re on your feet so much, it’s good to soak them.” He summoned a bucket filled with warm water and a bag of lavender-scented epsom salts. “I won’t be long.”

Patton poured some of the epsom salts into the bucket of water and groaned and whimpered at the relaxing sensation on his feet. Janus turned and allowed himself a small smile, then cooked up some 4-ingredient Italian chicken breasts from a recipe he’d found online, along with some roasted veggies and some pasta aglio e olio on the side. He set the table when Patton had his eyes closed in pleasure, then got everything served and helped Patton massage and dry his feet.

After dinner, in which everyone complimented the cooking, Patton declared he would go to bed a little early tonight, so Janus sent him upstairs with some chamomile tea. He cleaned the kitchen, and felt rather accomplished.

Roman and Patton are taken care of, thank God. He chuckled to himself. Up next, two for the price of one!

/////

Janus stood in front of Logan’s closed door, holding a pencil and large pad of paper, uncharacteristically nervous.

I’ve been able to fool Roman and Patton, but Logan is smart. He may see through this.

He knocked on the door, uncertain of his success.

Logan answered the door, every hair and fiber of clothing in order. “Hello Janus.”

Oh dear Lord in Heaven, this man needs to relax. Janus put on his best smile. “Hello Logan. I’ve become rather fascinated with the constellation Serpens and was wondering if you’d help me chart it and some stars and constellations around it? I’m afraid this is out of my area of expertise and I know this happens to be a field you’re familiar with.”

Logan looked at him skeptically. “You want to chart the stars with me,” he deadpanned. “You have no ulterior motives?”

“None whatsoever,” Janus said.

Logan looked over Janus’ shoulder at the wall, upset.

He knows you lied, salvage this! Janus sighed, pushing it a little. “Truth be told, Logan, I would like to get to know you more, and although I truly am interested in learning more about the constellation of the snake, spending time with you was my ultimate goal.”

Logan looked surprised, a faint blush on his cheekbones. “Oh. I suppose… that would be satisfactory.”

Janus leaned on all of his acting abilities to look relaxed. “Excellent. Would your room suffice?”

“It would.”

Janus laid his pad of paper and pencil on the floor where Logan indicated, and timed his next move while Logan was looking over his books.

“Say, Logan, you and Virgil seem to enjoy each other’s company, shall we ask him to join us?”

Logan stopped flipping through the thick tome currently in his hand long enough to raise his arm in a summon. Virgil rose up and grabbed his head.

“God L, how are you guys not constantly dizzy?” Virgil jumped when he saw Janus. “Oh! Hey, what’s up guys?” Janus made sure to hide his endearment for the anxious Side when he saw Virgil cringe

“Janus would like assistance mapping the constellation Serpens and the surrounding night sky. He suggested you accompany us,” Logan explained without raising his eyes from his book.

Virgil looked between Janus and Logan. “Just like… hang out?”

Janus decided to step in. “Yes. I noticed you seem to enjoy the company of others, but aren’t always interested in participating.”

Virgil offered a soft smile. “Yeah, I guess… that’s chill. Mind if I just listen to music and stuff?”

“Not at all,” Janus and Logan said at the same time.

Virgil snorted, then flopped on the bed, put in an earbud, and started up his phone.

One down, one to go.

Logan sat in front of Janus, irises already dark blue.

Two down, it seems.

Janus listened intently as Logan spoke at length about Serpens, and then about related constellations, and then about related galaxies and stars, with Janus asking questions along the way. They charted out Serpens and filled the large piece of paper with other stars and constellations, and even Virgil would chime in every now and again.

Janus definitely didn’t almost get emotional when he saw how relaxed the two normally-tense Sides were.

When Patton knocked on Logan’s door for dinner, Virgil swore.

“Shit! Did I miss something? Did Thomas need me?! Fuck, I-”

“Relax, Virgil,” Janus soothed. “I kept an eye on things, Thomas is just fine. See for yourself.”

Virgil’s eyes grew distant for several long moments before refocused. He blew out a breath.

“Okay, whew,” he sent a grateful look towards Janus. “Thanks man.”

Janus waved. “Not a problem. Let’s not keep Patton waiting.”

Janus followed the two Sides downstairs, feeling victorious at how relaxed their shoulders were. Virgil was even walking with proper posture!

Dinner was a relaxed affair, the Sides content and laughing easily. Remus was chattering on about one thing one moment and another the next, with Logan offering feedback and Virgil changing the topic for Patton’s sake. Janus ate, not admitting how nice it felt to be included in famILY mealtime. It took him til nearly the end of dinner to realize no one was watching him out of the corner of their eye.

They trust me, he realized.

By the end of the night, he stretched out on his bed, pulling his heated blanket up to his neck.

What a waste of time. Totally not worth it, he thought to himself as he planned his next meeting with Roman.

[amazedforjjk]

Black Crow - Yoongi

Summary: It’s not often you stumble upon a handsome tied up man in your parking lot in the dead of the night. What adventures this mysterious stranger is going to embark you on?

Genre: mafia!Yoongi, angst, humor, a tiny tiny hint of fluff

Warnings: Strong language, violence, blood and injuries, mentions of abuse and torture, tragic backstory, snarky Yoongi

A.N: Black Crow is finally here!! I’m so excited for you guys to read it! I’ll go on a hiatus for about two weeks but I’ll be back, don’t worry! I already have a new story idea I’m excited about!! Please tell me what you thought of Black Crow, I love interacting with you guys!!

Word count: 14K

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10:43 pm

It’s pitch black when you step out through the big glass doors of your office complex and the only way you manage to put a foot in front of the other without falling on your face is thanks to your flashlight on your phone. Everyone is already gone by now, and you should be as well but your boss had asked you to stay later tonight, because that fucker isn’t able to prepare a powerpoint by himself. Fucking boomers and their inability to use a computer. You huff in frustration as your heels click on the ground. You try to readjust your tight skirt by pulling at the edge. You hate this office with a passion, from your boss to his abject dress code. You absolutely despise having to dress in a tighter than normal grey skirt along with dark pantyhoses and a white blouse just for him to ogle you and your female coworkers. Your scalp hurts from having to pull your hair in a tight bun everyday.

Your heels are so fucking painful after a day of working, your boss making a point of having you run around the open space for different files that he strangely doesn’t need merely five minutes after asking you for them. You are not his assistant either, so you shouldn’t have to do anything for his fat ass but he holds your career in his hands, promising you the position you aspired towards for the past year without ever committing to his word. You huff again as you try to find your car in the dark, holding your phone between your shoulder and your cheek while you rummage in your purse to find your keys. Your office’s neighborhood isn’t exactly unsafe at night but you’d rather be home as fast as possible.

Admittedly, no one’s waiting for you there, except your bed and a comfy pair of pants, but you still sigh in contentment when you find the button to open your car. You get in in a hurry, throwing your bag across on the passenger seat and starting the car up. You already feel more relaxed in your car, removing your painful heels to drive. Your ankles are covered in blisters for sure and the tight fabric of your pantyhose pressing against the tender skin makes you grit your teeth. You drive home in a hurry, certainly not very safely but you don’t seem to care tonight, still fueled on the rage you piled up inside you today.

It’s definitely not your dream job, but a writer’s salary doesn’t pay the bills, at least not yours. And it’s not that bad; Sure you hate everyone in this office but the work in itself is okay, and the paycheck is worth the trouble. It’s thanks to that that you are two steps from owning your apartment in the center of the city, currently reimbursing your loan from the bank. It’s also why you need that new position; Bigger responsibilities but a bigger paycheck and flexible hours, perfect for an aspiring writer. Most importantly, you’ll don’t have to do anything for your asshole of a boss anymore.

You park in your parking spot down your building complex, calming down as you retrieve your keys from the ignition. You sigh. Sometimes you think you let the rage of your job consume you because it masks the loneliness overflowing from you everytime you come back home. You shouldn’t feel that way; you are the one who decided to move thousands of miles away from your parents. You are the country girl who decided to flee her small town to settle in the big city. You are not the only one, most of your friends moved as well, but not to the capital and sometimes you feel really alone. Even if you live in an over crowded city you can’t seem to find people to talk to other than a therapist.

You sigh as you slip your uncomfortable heels back on, stepping out of your car with your bag. You don’t notice at first the grunts and sounds of straining as you close your door and lock the car, but when you do you still instantly. Your eyes scan all around you while you strain your ears to find the origin of the noise. It sounds like a man is struggling against something, huffing and puffing in frustration.

The parking lot is empty and dimly lit, which is not unusual at this time of the night. You grab your phone tightly in your hand. The screen reads 11:07 pm before you tap on the emergency button. You don’t call the cops yet, but you feel a bit more reassured now that they are only a phone call away. You tentatively step closer to the trunk of your car towards the sound, steadying your breathing to be as silent as you can. Surely the person making the sound has already heard you arriving in your car and knows you are here but the fear gnawing your stomach keeps you from thinking straight. You forget about your painful heels, the rage of the day and your loneliness to focus entirely on the sounds . You can tell the man is still struggling, grunts and curse words alike becoming louder.

The deep voice spits a “Fuck!” and a car two rows away from yours sways lightly as if someone pushed against it. Having finally located the source of the sound you approach the car slowly, only stopping when you are close enough to determine what’s happening. A man is sitted against the back door of said car, head turned to look at his hands behind his back while struggling so that you can only see his raven hair. From the rope tied around his shoulders, you gather that his hands must be tied up as well and that he must be trying, with no success thus far, to break free.

He doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet, and you take advantage of that to figure out what the hell you are supposed to do in this situation. You could call the cops, leave him in their hands and he’ll be fine. Or you could try to free him from his bonds, there’s no need to get the police involved if it’s only a bad prank gone wrong. You glance at the chains around his neck; a silver skull is on the biggest of them and you can’t help but gulp. He could be dangerous… Like a gang member? Who else wears chains and skulls nowadays? Or he could be in danger, you realize as you notice a big dark stain on his khaki shirt. Wait, is that blood?

You let out an involuntary squeak as the stain seems to get even bigger. Your eyes widen when you realize how much you fucked up and you bring your hands to your mouth as if it would silence you but it’s too late. At the sound the man snaps his head in your direction, his grey eyes instantly finding yours. His brows are furrowed in both frustration and surprise, making him look intimidating. What shocks you the most though is the huge scar coming from his forehead to his cheekbone. You can’t help but take a step back, your hands falling to your sides, revealing your gaping mouth.

His eyes scour you and his eyebrows relax when he seems to understand that you pose no threat to him, but he still doesn’t talk. He gets up from where he was sitting, using the car behind him for support, gritting his teeth together in effort. You take another step back and your rear meets the car behind you. He looks much more intimidating now; he isn’t particularly tall nor is he very broad but his stance makes him terrifying. Your instincts are screaming at you to run away, that he is dangerous, but it’s like you are glued in place, unable to move. It’s only when he winces in pain again, surely from the wound on his side that you regain your ability to form coherent thoughts.

He is tied up and wounded; The man’s not a lot of a threat for you right now. A kick in his groin and you should be able to get home without a problem. You gulp before breaking the silence.

“You are wounded… It looks bad” is all you can muster tentatively. Silence.

Wow, that was lame, you internally cringe. He simply cocks an eyebrow and a smirk appears on his lips.

“Yeah, no shit”

You stammer and you feel your face heat up. Unable to find a witty comeback, you just huff, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Look, you need help or not?” you say simply but that is enough to wipe the smirk off his lips. It’s his turn to huff before looking away from you and you wonder how he could seem so intimidating earlier. He turns around, not without difficulty, facing away from you in an incredible demonstration of trust, displaying his tied up hands and you warily step towards him.

“Don’t try anything, I have a taser in my purse,” you bluff, eyeing the ropes currently cutting into his chafed wrists. The ropes are bloodied and you question how long he was trying to break free for. His shoulders move up and down as he laughs.

“I’ll be good,” he says, his voice filled with sarcasm. You roll your eyes. He is way too sassy for someone presently tied up.

You start to tug at his binds, trying to find the knot to let him free. He grunts as you put pressure on the damaged skin of his wrists. You look up from his wrist to look at him. He is turned but you can see his strained face in the car window’s reflection. Now that you can see him from a closer perspective, he looks abnormally livid, eyes unfocused and panting. He looks like he’s about to pass out, you note. Wait, he is passing out! You barely have the time to catch him before one of his knees falters.

“Hey hey hey- Dude? Are you okay?” you ask, voice full with concern. He mumbles, quite clearly unable to talk. “Fuck” you curse under your breath. You’ll deal with the rope later, you need to treat his wound. You grab his shoulder, trying to get him to lean on you and you start to walk to your apartment complex. He doesn’t even try to complain, and you are grateful; It’s already too difficult to carry his weight in your flimsy heels, especially without a good grasp on him. The ropes around him make it difficult for you to hold him steady, and he almost fell a few times when you tried to get a better grip.

Your perfect bun is ruined by the time you reach the elevator, and you are panting from the effort. Who’d have thought having to drag a semi conscious man across a fucking parking lot would be so difficult? The elevator ride provides you with a break, and you simply keep him against the wall while you catch your breath. His face is lolling forward, chin pressed against his chest. He still looks white as a sheet and you start to worry. Was it really a good idea to bring him home? You are capable of treating wounds, that’s not the problem, but if his wound is too deep or if he needs a blood transfusion you won’t be able to do anything.

“Shit, I should’ve brought you to the hospital,” you say, mainly to yourself as you stare at the elevator’s mirror.

“NO!” he shouts, making your head snap to look at him, alarmed. He managed to lift his head to look at you, his grey eyes burning with a fiery determination. “No hospital,” he repeats, and you nod at him, disconcerted. He calms after your nod, his head sinking back down to his chest.

Entering your apartment was a challenge; You had to hold the black haired man against the wall with your side while you searched your purse for your keys. He almost fell when you found them and forgot to press into him against the wall to open the door. Thankfully for him you realised your mistake early enough, dropping both your keys and bag to keep him from crashing on the wooden floor. You are also grateful none of your neighbours decided to take a midnight stroll, or they would have seen you pressing a tied up and passed out man against the wall with your body while desperately trying to open the door. Hardly something you want to be remembered by.

You plop the unconscious man on the couch unceremoniously, forgetting for a second his wound. You wince when you realise your mistake, but thankfully the man is too out of it to make one of his snarky comments. You retrieve your first aid kit from the bathroom and take advantage of his state to treat his wound. It is not too deep so you are able to patch it up without having to stitch him up. You’ve never been so happy to have a nurse as a mother, having learned most of your healing skills from her. You conclude, relieved, that his passing out is mostly due to the shock rather than excessive blood loss, since he didn’t seem to have a concussion when he talked to you. Adrenaline must have kept him in a conscious state of mind until he realized you didn’t mean any harm.

You cut through the rope with a kitchen knife, taking the opportunity to inspect him for any more injuries. You treat his wrists with an antiseptic cream before bandaging them. He is not otherwise severely harmed, though he does sport some nasty bruises on his --surprisingly toned-- chest. What the fuck happened to him?

You sit back on the ground, facing him, when you finally finish your check-up. His breathing is steady and he seems to have regained a splash of color on his face. You take the opportunity to take a better look at him. His features are sharp though he does have a cute button nose and cute pink lips. You shake your head to chase those thoughts. What is wrong with you, checking out a passed out man?

You check for his temperature before sighing. You are incredibly tired, the day was already exhausting as it is, nevermind with this sudden encounter. You decide against putting away the kitchen knife, instead taking it with you to your room. You are nice, not stupid, and though you don’t feel in danger anymore, you are not the one to take unnecessary risks.

It’s already well past midnight when you go to sleep, knife under your pillow. You hope your guest on the couch will wake up early as you need to be up early tomorrow for your job. You’d like him to be gone as soon as possible, men like this only mean trouble. Sure you’d like to know a bit more about him, like how did he wind up in your parking lot at 11pm tied up and injured. But you know the saying, ‘curiosity killed the cat’, and you value your comfortable life too much to put it in jeopardy for a man’s backstory. Who knows what could happen?

-----------------------------------------------

You wake up late the next morning. After a quick shower and almost falling flat on your ass trying to get dressed as fast as possible, you sprint out your room into the living room. The couch is empty and you smile to yourself. He’s gone. Good. It’s one less thing for you to worry about so you dart through the door, trying to make it in time before getting chewed out by your boss for arriving 3 minutes late.

You manage to sit at your desk one minute before the start of your shift and you sigh. Here we go again, another day of having to deal with dumbasses. Despite the fact that you woke up late, the rest of the day proves to be quite good. Instead of being his usual manipulative asshole self, your boss decides to ask you in his office to talk about your well deserved promotion, and tells you that an interview is set for you tomorrow in order to decide whether or not you should get the job. You spend the rest of the day on cloud nine, excastic to finally see your hard work rewarded.

You rush home after another hard day of work, sleep deprived and craving the comfort of your covers. It seems however that fate has other plans for you, you realise when you open the door to fall on last night’s guest. He was still here. Shit. He is comfortably seated on your couch, feet on the table while he’s watching TV. Eyes wide, you drop your bag on the floor.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?! I thought you were gone!” you shout at him. He nonchalantly eyes you up and down, smirking at your crestfallen expression.

“You locked me in this morning,” he answers simply. “I couldn’t open the door to get out.”

The way he pronounces these words without a care in the world leads you to believe he mustn't have tried really hard to get out. You bring your hands to rub your face, feeling anger building up within you. Who does he think he is?

“You have a nice place,” he says gesturing around him with his hand. “Also, you shouldn’t keep a knife under your pillow, it’s dangerous,” he adds, brows furrowed in fake concern.

“You went in my room?!” you ask, clearly fuming. The nerve of this guy!

“Of course, I had to make sure I couldn’t find another exit”, he says, as if it was obvious. This guy is seriously getting on your last nerve, and you grit your teeth, trying to avoid exploding in his face. He seems to pick up on your aggravated state and his face becomes serious. He lifts his feet from the table, standing up to move closer to face you.

“Thank you for last night. I owe you a lot”

He bows slightly and it’s like your anger evaporates, making way for your curiosity to take over.

“Yeah about that… What happened to you last night?” His face hardens instantly and his whole body stiffens. He seems to ponder what to say for a while, obviously not quite ready to let you in on the situation.

“I can’t tell you--”

“I think you owe me that much” you retort, interrupting his refusal. He huffs and thinks for a bit more time.

“You’re right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I had... uh...  Some troubles... With a gang”

By the way he forces the words out of his mouth, you figure this is the most you’ll get out of him right now. It does make sense in a way, and you are now glad you could help him. You hum in acknowledgment and he seems relieved to know you won’t ask anymore questions. It’s his business anyway, and you already know enough.

“I figure that you need to lay low for a while, wrong?” you sigh, passing by him to go to the kitchen. He looks surprised but quickly regains his composure. He hums positively, still not quite sure where this is going. “It’s late, you can stay tonight as well if you want.” 

You don’t know why you are saying this. Inviting a stranger to stay for one more night? Are you going nuts? Are you really that lonely that you would invite someone --whom you met in sketchy circumstances, let’s not forget-- to spend the night with you? His response cuts the little voice in your head nagging at you.

“That’d be good, yes” and you turn to meet his eyes. His face is still serious but you can discern a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m Y/l/n Y/n by the way”

“Min Yoongi”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. Tonight’s menu is take out,” you say, turning to face him completely, leaning on the counter behind you.

“I’m fine with that,” he says with a playful smile and you don’t fail to notice the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Did you say something funny?

You brush it off, instead focusing on ordering chicken fried rice and dumplings from your favorite chinese place in the neighborhood on your phone. Yoongi returns to focus on the TV while you order, and you take advantage of this to observe him. At first glance, he looks fairly nonchalant, without a care in the world, but the more you examine him, you notice the slight movements of his eyes whenever you make a sound. He doesn’t look uneasy, more like generally careful of you. In fact, it looks like he chose to sit where he could monitor you without you catching him, sitting at a certain angle so he doesn’t have to turn his head to watch you.

You gulp, suddenly feeling more on edge than before. Now that you see it, he seems more controlled than you would think, as though the very way he sits is meticulous; as if to convey that he is non-threatening to you, while still being able to act if need be. You can’t help but feel he might have downplayed his troubles, that type of behaviour does not match with a small lowlife’s who would just have “some troubles with a gang”. No, he knows what he’s doing, and has known from the very beginning, purposefully using sarcasm to break the tension and get you to help him. You don’t think he manipulated you into bringing him home though, that man was too passed out to manage that feat.

You grab the counter to ground you. Realising you just welcomed someone that appears to be dangerous and manipulative into your own home is not a great feeling. If Yoongi has noticed your sudden tenseness, he doesn’t let it show. He’ll be gone by tomorrow, you remind yourself, trying to calm your pounding heart. You feel like a prey stuck with a wolf in sheep’s disguise. But you are no damsel in distress, you’ll be just fine if you stay wary. Keep your guard up while not letting him know you figured him out. Guess you’ll be sleeping with a knife under your pillow tonight as well.

The rest of the night continues on fairly pleasantly. You do most of the talking during the night, telling him stories about your awful boss and your dream job. Yoongi is actually good company, listening to you with a smile, though you still feel that he contains himself. You purposefully avoid talking about his past or his job, not wanting to make a wrong move and anger him. The less you know the better. The atmosphere between the two of you is still somewhat tense, and you all but jump when the doorbell rings, announcing your dinner’s arrival.

He does seem to relax once his stomach full, even going as far to flash you a gummy smile when you lose balance and the empty take out boxes come crashing onto the ground. Granted, he was laughing at your clumsiness but you had a good time nonetheless.

“I need to be up early tomorrow, I should hit the sack,” you say while throwing out the take out boxes. “I’ll leave at 7:30 so you’ll have to leave at that time too”, you add and he hums in understanding.

You bid him goodnight before entering your room and as you are pushing the door a small “Thank you, Y/n” escapes his lips. You turn around and return his small smile. Is it just you or did this one seem sincere?

-----------------------------------------------

You don’t wake up sleep deprived this time around. In fact, you feel better than you have in a while. Is this the effect of having company for once? You scoff at your own thoughts before preparing yourself for the day. No, it’s of course because of your near new job interview. Yoongi is up and ready when you step out of your room to get your coffee, his wet hair sticking to his face.

“You want one?”, you ask him, pointing at the coffee machine. He nods and thanks you when you hand him a coffee. This morning feels a little awkward, you note. You are not quite sure what to say in this situation, and apparently neither is he because the both of you are just staring at each other while sipping your coffees, waiting for the other to say something. You also note the contrast between you too; him, wearing worn out grey jeans and an oversized khaki bomber jacket, and you, wearing a tight black skirt, an assorted suit jacket and an ironed white blouse. Once done with your coffee, you slip your uncomfortable heels and the both of you step out into the elevator.

It is finally time for you to separate when you step out on the street. You turn to face him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What to say? You are relieved when he starts talking first.

“Thank you for letting me stay, Y/n, I owe you one”, he says with a small smile.

“Well, two if we’re honest”, you answer with a smirk. He looks at you amused. You take a glance at your watch. “Alright, I should go, or I’ll be late for my interview. Goodbye, Min Yoongi”. You wave at him. You fail to notice the men coming up from behind him. You should have, you have never seen them before, and them sporting black clothes and heavy gold chains would have stuck with you. Yoongi does notice the ones coming from behind you though, his eyes widening. It’s far too late however, and he cannot reach you before he is grabbed from the back. You scream when you feel two pairs of hands on each side of you, maintaining you in place. Yoongi is trying to fight off his assailants but he is quickly overpowered, knocked out by a nasty blow to his temple. For your credit, your struggling gave them a hard time trying to contain you as well, scratching and kicking in every direction, but a hit in the face is enough to finally calm you, rendering you unconscious.

----------------------------------------------

You wake up face down in the trunk of a car. You can tell by the sound of the engine as well as the smell of gasoline. Your head hurts and you are disoriented. Everything is dark and you are cramped up in a tiny space, something soft under you. The haze surrounding your mind lifts instantaneously when you remember what happened before you blacked out. You struggle when you find out your hands and feet are tied up, but still at once when the soft thing under you releases an ‘ooomph’ sound.

“Yoongi?!”, you shriek. You immediately regret speaking so loud, cursing under your breath. Just because you can’t hear them in the car doesn’t mean they can’t hear you.

“Yeah..” he responds, voice strained, obviously in pain from the elbow you lodged in his ribs as you tried to move around.

“What the fuck is going on?”, you whisper-shout, anger boiling in your veins. You knew that man was trouble but you invited him in anyway. This is what you get when you don’t listen to your instincts. You hear him sigh above your head.

“Remember the gang I told you about?” he says tentatively, knowing you are only inches away from exploding. “Well, I killed their leader and they are not very happy with me right now.”

You can’t believe what you are hearing.

“And that’s ‘some troubles’ for you?! What the fuck, Yoongi?!”

“That’s really all that you take away from what I just said?”, he retorts in disbelief.

No, it’s really not. But right now, the fact that you are acquaintances with a murderer is the least of your worries. “Fuck”, you utter, hitting your head softly on his chest. The fear mixing with anger inside you makes it difficult for you to think. How are you going to get out of this mess?

“You seem awfully calm for someone who’s just been kidnapped, Yoongi”, you say against his chest, your head still a bit dizzy from the hit you’ve received from your kidnappers.

“This is not my first rodeo, sweetheart”

You scoff at his nonchalant response, but it somehow reassures you a bit. At least you are not alone.

“So, what’s your fucking plan to get us out of here then, cowboy?”, you ask, expecting a brilliant plan to get the both of you out of harm’s way unscathed and-

“I don’t know yet”

Were you drinking anything, you would’ve spat your drink in his face in disbelief. But you are not, so you decide to head butt him in the chest instead. Hard.

“Ow, what the fuck?”, he whisper-shouts, obviously surprised by your sudden violence.

“You got me in this mess dude, now you get me out of it!”

You are seeing red. Even in this kind of situation he isn’t serious, driving you crazy with his nonchalant responses. He is going to get me killed, you think to yourself.

“I’ve escaped once from them, I can do it again. They are not exactly the brightest bunch”, he says, and you feel him shift under you. “The sole fact that they took you with me is proof. Would you turn on your back please, darling?”

Though you don’t understand why, you comply without a complaint. The man is supposed to be used to this, now’s not the time to ask questions. You twist on your back with difficulty, not without purposefully elbowing him in the stomach once again, disguising it as an accident when he starts to curse you out. As soon as you are in position, you feel his hands feeling around their way to yours, reaching your binds in no time. You can’t help but shriek when the cold blade of what you guess is a knife touches your forearm.

“First rule of kidnapping, darling, always check the belt”, he explains while cutting through the rope attaching your wrists together with dexterity. You are free in less time that you need to say it, rubbing your chafed wrists in disbelief. You are impressed to say the least, and quite relieved to have underestimated your kidnappee buddy. He hands you the knife.

“Alright, now I need you to free our feet. With you on top of me like that I can’t do it”

You start to shift in the small space trying to bend in order to reach your feet, feeling as you go. You’ve never been the most flexible but you don’t pay mind to the pain in your lower back as you start to cut through the rope around his feet, a weird feeling of deja vu settling in the back of your mind.

“Wait… Is that MY kitchen knife?!”, you ask in an ushered yet still incredulous voice, recognizing the grip of the knife in your hands.

“Of course it is”, he says as if it was obvious. “Did you seriously think that I, a hit-man searched for by the most dangerous gang of the country, would leave anywhere unarmed?”, he adds after hearing your disbelieving scoff. His feet are free now and you start to cut through your binds.

“The most dangerous- What?! I thought you said they weren’t the brightest bunch?!”, you reply, incredulous, stopping to cut for a second.

“Well yes, I killed the brains of the gang”, he says matter-of-factly. “You done with the knife? Give it to me.”

You hand him back the knife, your ankles now free of the restraints. The car is still moving, and you start to wonder what Yoongi is planning to do. Best course of action would probably be to wait for the car to stop and the kidnappers to open the trunk, taking them by surprise.

This doesn’t seem to be what Yoongi has in mind however, as you feel him start to rip off the carpet on the floor of the trunk. Your eyes widen but you try to move over to the front part of the trunk, letting him space to go on his rampage on the carpet. Has he gone mad? Is this how you die?

“What the fuck are you doing?”, you ask him through gritted teeth. Now’s not the time to attract attention.

“I’m looking for the trunk release cable” he says flatly, obviously focused on his task.

“Huh?”

“It should be… Right about... Here!” He pulls on something at once and the trunk suddenly opens. Your eyes hurt from the abrupt surge of light and you shield your eyes. The car starts to sway dangerously, the kidnappers obviously as surprised as you are to see the trunk pop open. Your eyes don’t have the time to accommodate before Yoongi yanks you by your hand, making you crash in his chest, before jumping, effectively throwing the both of you out of the trunk onto the road. Thankfully, Yoongi had the presence of mind to jump at an angle, making you tumble into the sidewalk instead of underneath the wheels of the car behind yours.

You barely have time to register what just happened before Yoongi pulls you by the hand again. Everything hurts and you are not quite sure what just happened, but you follow suit, running after him. You discard the only heel left on your feet after your little acrobatic feat in order to be able to run properly on the sidewalk. You don’t even pay mind to the incredulous glares the two of you gather. Oh what a sight you must be, running barefoot in the streets, cheeks, hands and knees wounded, your clothes a mess and your previously done up hair flowing in the wind. There are not many people around, making it easy for you to run, but easy for your kidnappers to find you. The car must have stopped a few moments after the trunk popped open because men are running after you, screaming.

Yoongi makes a sudden turn in a narrow and dark alleyway. You want to ask him where he is leading you but you are too breathless to even say a word. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to keep going like that, especially since your feet are starting to hurt from the gravel and the shards of glass covering the alleyway. You keep on running anyway, somehow convinced that the man running in front of you knows what he’s doing.

The sound of a gunshot rings right next to your ears, the bullet embedding itself on the wall alongside you. You shriek as the sound brings you back to earth, and you start to run even faster, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Yoongi doesn’t even flinch, continuing to run, brows furrowed and eyes trained in front of him. You make a second abrupt turn, leading even deeper in the maze of alleyways of your city. This part of the town is known to be the headquarters of the criminal activity, so it’s no wonder you are completely lost here whereas Yoongi expertly proceeds through, leading you to an unknown place.

The deeper you sink in the maze, the more people you meet, and the more scared you become. Everything is so foreign and dangerous to you, and you grip tighter on Yoongi’s hand as he pushes through the mob. It might be a bit stereotypical but these people all look too intimidating to you, especially since you are running away from men who just tried to kill you. You should thank them really, since they help you escape, unbeknownst to them. The alleys are larger now, though still very dark, and your nose catches whiffs of grilled meat and other delicacies as you run past the shady food stands. You are a bit overwhelmed as you progress through the crowd; Your heart is beating in your ears and your mind is racing, unable to entirely make sense of what you are experiencing.

Yoongi yanks on your hand once again, beckoning you to turn in yet another alley. This one is distinctly smaller and emptier than the former, and Yoongi stops abruptly in front of a back door, letting go of your hand to pound on the dirty metal door. His pounding is insistent and for the first time he looks nervous, eyeing where you just came from warily. The door doesn’t seem to want to open despite his persistence and he starts to curse. Behind him, you are quite literally trembling with anxiety. Your heart is throbbing in your chest and you only just realise your cheeks are wet with tears. Have you been crying the whole time?

“Fuck Jin, open the god damn door!”, Yoongi shouts, fist thumping against the metal, startling you from your thoughts. The door finally rattles and opens to reveal a tall yawning man. His brows are furrowed in discontent and you can tell he is going to chew Yoongi out before stopping crestfallen upon seeing his state. He doesn’t even notice you at first, too preoccupied for his friend to cast you a glance.

“Took you long enough” Yoongi grumbles, quickly grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside after him, pushing past his friend who is still staring at him, mouth open wide. The latter sighs before closing the door without a word and following you. The doorway leads to a small living room with a kitchen in the corner lit up by a yellow light bulb. Yoongi lets go of your hand to sink on the couch, and you stay still, not quite sure what to do while Jin settles on the armchair on the opposite side.

Jin looks fairly angry, his eyebrows furrowed and his tired brown eyes shooting daggers at Yoongi. He passes a hand through his black hair, exposing his forehead. He is obviously waiting for Yoongi to explain, his plump lips pressed in a tight line when he realises his friend isn’t going to say anything.

“What the hell are you doing here and what happened to you?” is the first thing he says, concern not well hidden under the apparent annoyance in his tone. He turns his head to you and he shoots you a concerned look. “And who is she?”

Normally, you would have clapped back that she has a name and that if he wanted to know anything about you he could ask directly, but you are too shocked to say anything, still unable to register what is happening right now. He must sense what state you are in because he walks to the kitchen and offers you a drink. You accept it wordlessly, staring blankly at him and then at the glass.

“Well apparently, Wolf’s Fang did not appreciate me killing their leader and tried to kidnap me. Twice”, Yoongi replies with his usual nonchalance. You are happy to note that you are not the only one it drives crazy, judging by the look on Jin’s face.

“Wolf’s Fa- Yoongi, I told you not to approach them, they are trouble,” he says, jaws clenched in obvious annoyance as his friend shrugs. He sighs and turns to you. You can tell he is trying hard to conceal his anger, though the furiousness of his eyes betrays him. “You don’t look so good, sweetheart, you should go to the bathroom”, he tells you, pointing at a corridor. He doesn’t need to pry, you are happy to get away from the tension in the room, making your way towards said corridor.

The bathroom is small, covered in tile. You lock yourself in, slashing your face with cold water, eager for the haze surrounding your mind to leave. You might have a small concussion from your earlier acrobatic feat, along with the mild marks of road burns on the side of your head. You can still hear the argument in the living room between the two men, and you cut the flow of water to listen to the ushered voices.

“-I told you it was the worst idea you’ve ever had, I can’t believe you did it anyway”

“What was I supposed to do, Jin, let them get away with it?”

“It was twenty years ago Yoongi-”

“They killed my parents, I don’t really think there’s a ‘best before’ date on revenge.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. Just because you are used to killing people doesn’t mean you can take on everyone, Yoongi. They were too dangerous for you but you still went away and killed their leader. I told you to wait and build a team but no, you couldn’t fucking wait, could you? I shouldn’t have told you.”

“It was MY revenge Hyung-”

“That’s why you involved the girl?” Your brows furrow, and you sit on the toilet seat, eager to know what they are going to say about you. Yoongi takes a second before answering, his voice calmer and you have to strain your ears to hear him.

“No. That- That was a mistake. She found me the first time I escaped and she helped me.”

“And that’s how you repay her, by implicating her in your shit?”

“No, I- I just wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t mean for her to get caught up in this.”

“Awww, little Black Crow didn’t want her to get caught in this” Jin retorts sarcastically. “Well guess what, fucker, because of you she’s going to have to hide from one of the biggest gangs in the damn city! I don’t even care that you bring ME into this mess, but you just had to involve an innocent person. I thought you despised that.”

“I fucking hate it!”, Yoongi shouts. “But it’s too late to change anything about that, isn’t it Hyung?”

You rise from your seat, having heard enough. You don’t want them to fight because of you, and you’re afraid you’ve spent much more time in the bathroom than appropriate. Having finally regained your senses, you feel the strain your chase has on your body; your muscles ache and your feet are bloody, shards of glass and tiny pieces of gravel embedded in your skin. You tiptoe back into the living, jaw clenched from the pain, trying to avoid putting too much weight on your feet as well as bloodying the floor. They both fall quiet when you appear through the opening of the corridor, eyeing you with concern.

You can easily guess what is going on in their heads. You are still very pale, and you seem weak, eyes still a bit unfocused as you lean on the wall for support. they must wonder how much you’ve heard, and how much of a problem you are going to be to them. You are a witness and you know what Yoongi does for a living - ha, puns- and though it hasn’t crossed your mind to call the police on them, they don’t know that. Finally, you still have a gang trying to snag you, and you don’t know just how much information your kidnappers have on you. They could try to use you as bait, thinking Yoongi must be attached to you in some way.

In conclusion, this is a mess. You’ve missed both work and your interview this morning and people are bound to ask questions about your whereabouts. You’ve always been the most diligent in terms of work, never taking a day off or arriving more than 10 minutes late. You obviously don’t have your phone or your wallet on you right now, having lost everything when you were kidnapped, and trying to go back to your apartment right now, without your keys on top of that, seems fruitless.

“How are you feeling?”, Jin asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence that settled in the room.

“Still a bit light-headed. I might have a minor concussion… I think. Also I need a first aid kit, if you have one please?”

“Sure, I’ll get you that. Sit down.”

You settle on the other side of the couch as Jin exits the room from the corridor. Yoongi hasn’t said anything yet but you can see hints of concern in his eyes. Similarly to you, his already scarred cheek and his hands are bruised because of the fall from the car, though he doesn’t seem to have hit his head -which isn’t surprising since, unlike you, he was expecting the impact. He moves closer to you on the couch to take your hands in his, observing the wounds on the back of your hands.

You are slightly taken aback but don’t say anything, an unexpected blush creeping on your cheeks. He seems too focused on your hands to notice your tenseness, and you are glad. What the hell is wrong with you? It must be the concussion, making your cheeks heat up, because it certainly can’t be the way his soft hands delicately hold yours- No! What is going on in this brain of yours?

“Are your feet okay?” he asks suddenly, and you squeak in surprise as his grey eyes find yours. He doesn’t comment on your reaction, and you are happy to not receive one of his snarky remarks.

“Not really, that’s why I asked for the first aid ki- Whoa, what are you doing?!”, you shriek when he grabs your legs to prop them on the couch. He sits at the end of the couch, grimacing as he takes in the poor state of the bottom of your feet.

“There’s gravel in there, I’ll have to clean it up--”, he starts.

“No- No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll do it myself,” you interrupt, slightly panicked. To be completely honest, you don’t really trust him to do any good. The man doesn’t exactly save lives, he takes them, and he doesn’t really strike you as the healer type. You think you are saved when Jin comes back and hands you the first aid kit, one of his eyebrows raising in a silent question as he reads the anxiousness on your face. Unfortunately for you, Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind your nervousness, simply snatching the kit from your hands and putting himself to work.

Turns out you were nervous for -mostly- nothing. Yoongi actually has a steady hand, and he removes all gravel and shards of glass in an instant and rather unpainfully. He does however make the mistake of spraying antiseptic directly in your wounds, which hurts like hell. He apologizes profusely, obviously distraught by your unexpected blood curdling scream while Jin laughs freely at his startled face. As he finishes bandaging your feet and Jin brings you hotel slippers to wear for the night. They are way too big for your feet but actually quite comfortable so you accept them with a smile.

You are set to stay low in Jin’s place for the day. It would be too dangerous to leave today according to both Yoongi and Jin, and the both of them decide that you would leave during the night.

“It’s at that time that the alleys are the more crowded,” explained Jin, “the less attention you draw, the better”. That is a kind of logic you can get behind, especially since you can barely walk - let alone run if anything goes wrong.

Yoongi advises you to sleep when he notices your eyes getting droopy, and he leads you to a bedroom. You sink on the bed in exhaustion, your body suddenly refusing to carry you anymore. You feel sleep enveloping you as Yoongi starts to leave the bedroom.

“What’s going to happen after we leave?” you ask sleepily, barely keeping your eyes open. The question stops him dead in his tracks, and he turns to face you, a serious look on his face. He ponders for a little while before answering you.

“I’ll bring you to my place and we’ll find a way for you to go back to your life,” he responds, eyes earnest and you hum sleepily in acknowledgement. Satisfied with the answer, you let yourself slip into an easy sleep.

-----------------------------------------------

You wake up a few hours later, with an empty stomach but an already clearer head. It takes you a minute to remember exactly what happened to you and where you are, feeling dejected when you realise it wasn’t just a very realistic nightmare. It’s all his fault, you realize. Your life was going well before you decided to help Yoongi - well, before you were manipulated into helping him is more correct. Even if you despise your job because of your boss, you still enjoy your little routine. Working during the week to pay off your loan, writing during the weekend or enjoying your free time. Sure you were alone most of the time and you longed to meet new people, you still liked your quiet life. It was all supposed to come together today once you’d get that promotion, but no, that had to be ruined for you. One thing is certain: once all of this is over, you don’t want to ever hear from Min Yoongi again.

You decide to limp to the living room, the rumbling of your stomach prompting you to seek sustenance. Both Jin and Yoongi are in the living room, Yoongi sleeping on the couch while Jin is busy on the phone looking out the window near the kitchen. His brows are furrowed and he looks deep in thought, making you reconsider asking him for food right now. He doesn’t seem to have noticed you entering the room and sitting on the armchair, and you take advantage of this to stare at him in tranquillity.

It makes no doubt for you now that Jin is also a very dangerous man. If his earlier behaviour wasn’t particularly intimidating in any way, the man barking at the phone in front of you  exudes a deadly aura. He is quite obviously trying to resolve the mess his younger friend put himself -and you- into, calling multiple people and furiously scribbling on a notepad on the counter in between calls. He seems to know exactly who to contact, calling people back to back, until he slams his phone on the table, sighing in exasperation. He takes his head in his hands and sighs again.

“Jin?” you ask tentatively, and Jin’s head snaps in your direction. His dark eyes immediately find yours, and you gulp, intimidated by his intense glare. When he realises it’s just you, his features soften and you feel yourself being able to breathe again.

“Do you have something I could eat?” you ask after he beckons you to speak with a hum. He nods, making his way to the cupboards. He rummages through them and you settle on a stool behind the counter. Jin doesn’t look satisfied as he pulls out a cup of instant ramen and he shoots you an apologetic smile. “Ramen is fine,” you assure him, feeling too hungry to fuss over the quality of the meal. It actually reminds you of your student days, living off ramen, coffee and the sheer will of escaping your parent’s house. Granted this is not how you envisioned your future, running away from a gang with your new friend Yoongi the murderer, but you longed for adventure, right?

Well it’s not like you have much of a choice anyway, you remind yourself as Jin sets the meager meal in front of you. You must pull a crestfallen grimace because Jin laughs at you and you dive in, eager to hide the embarrassment creeping on your cheeks at his windshield wiper laugh.

“Who were you calling?” you ask with a mouth full, keen to change the focus on him rather than you. He rests his elbows on the counter across from you and he tries to find his words.

“People who could help resolve the situation,” he answers simply.

“Right… ‘Resolve’” you say with a sarcastic smile. The only way to ‘resolve’ the situation, as Jin says, is surely to take out the gang altogether. It is obviously weak at the moment because of the loss of their boss, and it’s the best time to strike.

“We need to ensure your security - that is, unless you believe you can do it alone?” he retorts, raising one of his eyebrows in defiance. You scoff at his smirk.

“Of course not.” You pause. “Thank you for helping me,” you add earnestly after a second.

“Don’t thank me, thank Yoongi. He’s the one who asked me to help you. Apparently he owes you”, he says dismissively, returning to the kitchen to throw away your no empty ramen cup. You swallow with difficulty. Of course he’s only doing that because he owes you, what did you expect? Both of those men are hardened criminals, though you don’t exactly know what Jin dwelves in. It would be foolish of you to think that neither of them is protecting you out of the goodness of their hearts. They are not as naive and generous as you are, and Yoongi could easily have left you to die had you not saved him earlier.

No wait… This is because of him that you are in this mess, of course he has to fix this situation!

“Anyways,” Jin adds as he comes back to face you, “Yoongi is going to bring you to a safer location and then he - along with my team - is going to sort this mess out. And then you’ll be good to go, as if this never happened.”

He emphasizes his last words with a dark fixed gaze on you. You gulp at his sudden change of demeanor from casual to threatening. You know exactly what he means by that; You’ll have to keep quiet about what happened, or else. You nod a bit too eagerly, suddenly intimidated by him. This seems to please him however, and he smiles at you, obviously content that you understand the true meaning of his words.

You spend the next hour or so abstently watching TV from the armchair while waiting, Yoongi still happily slumbering on the couch. There isn’t much more to do than wait, and you are bored out of your wits by the time Jin decides Yoongi slept too much and hits him with a rolled up magazine to wake him up.

“What the- What was that for?!” Yoongi indignantly asks, rubbing his head, his still sleepy eyes shooting daggers at the elder.

“It’s time for you to move” is all he says before he leaves the room, not even paying attention to the string of curses Yoongi sends flying his way. You chuckle at his indignation and he shoots you a dark look, amusing you even further. He sighs before chuckling too and he rises from the couch to stretch his limbs. Jin comes back to the living room with a backpack he chucks at Yoongi. The latter catches it effortlessly before sitting back on the couch to rummage through it, taking out a gun and observing it, checking the magazine in a swift motion.

“You might need that,” Jin says, leaning back against the kitchen counter and Yoongi thanks him. You eye warrily the weapon; You can’t say you feel particularly reassured with this. You’ve never been one to like firearms, and the sole fact that you were shot at earlier today reinforces your apprehension. Yoongi seems to sense your tenseness and he hands you your kitchen knife. You look at him questioningly.

“It might be too early for you to use a gun, let’s stick with things you know for now,” he explains with a knowing smile. For now. You can see Jin’s eyebrows furrow in the corner of your eyes but you don’t comment on his choice of words, merely nodding in understanding. There’s also a pair of grey sneakers in the bag, which Yoongi throws your way. They are too big for your feet but this is the best you are going to get so you don’t complain. You are now set to leave and Yoongi beckons you to follow him through the corridor. There’s a back door that you hadn’t noticed after the door leading to the bedroom.

Yoongi reaches to open the door and stops, taking a look at you. You are opening your mouth to ask him what’s wrong when he suddenly removes his jacket to throw it around your shoulders.

“You’ll attract too much attention otherwise” he says, and he slips through the door. You follow him into the alleyways, clutching his jacket to cover you more, hiding the knife in your hands under it.

The alleys, much like Jin explained, are more crowded than when you arrived. You are significantly less scared than before, focusing on following the man in front of you instead of observing the people around you. Yoongi is leading you through the crowd, eyes scanning the mob looking for potential threats. Jin had advised you to leave separately but it just wasn’t possible for you to navigate through this maze alone, and you are grateful to be with Yoongi right now.

People don’t seem to pay much attention to either of you and you are able to reach an underground parking lot safely. Yoongi had made sure you weren’t followed before reaching for keys in the bag. He presses the button and the lights of a car a few rows from where you are flare up. Yoongi grabs your hand and leads the both of you to the black car, letting you get seated on the passenger side before unceremoniously throwing the bag on the back seat.

The car is surprisingly nice, a black Mercedes with tan leather seats. You squeak in surprise when Yoongi makes the engine roar as you are attaching your seat belt. You don’t even have the time to say anything before he slams the acceleration pedal, leaving the parking spot like a mad man. You grip the armrest in a futile attempt to feel safer, not quite at ease with Yoongi’s aggressive driving.

You can tell he is a good driver, expertly avoiding the few other cars as he speeds down the highway, but you can’t help your heart from pounding in your chest. You’ve never been this fast on the road, and the happy glimmer in Yoongi’s eyes everytime he goes faster doesn’t exactly reassure you.

The only positive aspect with him driving this fast is that you quickly arrive at the destination. You are surrounded by tall glass buildings, and you furrow your brows. This can’t be where Yoongi lives, can it? It doesn’t make sense. Yoongi parks the car in another underground parking structure, and you step out of the car with wobbly legs and a confused expression plastered on your face. You don’t even have time to ask the first of the thousands of questions swarming your mind right now before Yoongi makes his way towards an elevator.

Unlike you, he seems perfectly at ease as he waits for the elevator, even smirking at your bemused face. The ding of the elevator makes you step out of your thoughts and you start to stammer as you follow Yoongi inside. He presses the button going to the 37th level.

“You- You live here?!” you ask, incredulous as the elevator starts its ascension. He shoots you another smirk, his eyes playful.

“What, you think I kill for the sole pleasure of it? Of course not, I’m not a monster, Y/n.”

“I- I don’t--”

“Hitman is a relatively high paying job, I’ll have you know,” Yoongi explains in fake seriousness, obviously reveling on your confused state of mind. You raise one of your eyebrows in defiance at his words, eyeing him up and down as if to prove a point. He isn’t exactly dressed as someone who makes a lot of money. He scoffs at your attitude, and he crosses his arms on his chest.

“Hey! I like these clothes!” he says in indignation and you roll your eyes at him. The elevator stops and the both of you step out of it. “Anyway, nobody knows about this place so we’ll be safe here,” he says while walking to a door at the end of a corridor.

“Nobody?” you ask as he opens the door.

“Not even Jin. It’s a safe measure. I don’t know where he lives either. No one in the gang does. That way, if someone gets caught, they won’t be able to tell where the others are.”

He opens the door and enters his apartment. You take a second to look around you. His apartment is big and modern. The walls are painted white, contrasting with his dark furniture. In the back of the apartment is a huge window, providing an incredible view of the city. But the view is unable to distract you from the many questions swirling in your mind; How many people has he had to kill in order to pay for a place like this? The place you were at just earlier wasn’t Jin’s home? The gang? What is going on? Yoongi must notice your confusion -- maybe because you are still on the doorstep, staring around with a gaping mouth -- because he sighs and starts to explain further.

“We were not at Jin’s. It’s one of our safe places all over the city. There’s always at least one member there, and this time it was Jin’s shift and I knew he was going to be there,” he starts explaining.

“Wait wait- You are in a gang?!” you exclaim, eyes wide. The more you think you know about Yoongi the more lost you get. It wasn’t bad enough that he is an assassin, he’s also part of a gang?

“Would you please come in before shouting those kinds of things?” he retorts through gritted teeth, ushering you inside and closing the door. You sink down on the leather couch and stare in the void, still not quite able to process everything. You should have seen it coming if you are really honest, but it seems that you find yourself to be in an even bigger mess than you thought everytime Yoongi tries to explain himself.

“Yes, I’m in a gang. I’m an assassin. Jin is the leader’s right-hand man. More than that he is my friend,” he says, eyeing you warrily and holding his hands up in a defensive stance, as if scared you’ll explode. If anything, you should be the one to be scared, you think to yourself, especially since you can’t understand why he would say that. Perhaps it’s because you are aware of what would happen to you, would you ever try to say anything to anyone. Not that anyone would believe your story anyway, or that you would risk telling anything to anyone. You shudder when you remember Jin’s hidden warning. Yoongi lowers his hands as you seem to have calmed down and he sits across from you on a leather armchair.

“I talked with Jin about taking down Wolf’s Fang. I’ll leave tomorrow to deal with that with other members of the gang. Then you’ll go back to your life”, he explains nonchalantly. For some unknown reason, his last words set you ablaze with rage.

“What life, Yoongi? You ruined that, remember?” you spit at him harshly, rising from your seat. He looks completely taken aback by your sudden outburst. You had made sure not to let show how much you resent him for dragging you in this situation; You needed him to fix everything, and shouting at him that it’s all his fault surely wouldn’t help your plans at all. But you snap because of his nonchalant attitude. He destroyed your chances at getting your promotion, having to go no-contact. He put you at risk of getting kidnapped and then shot, even though he knew he was himself in danger.

“Aren’t you an assassin, aren’t you part of a gang? Didn’t you know you would put me in danger with you?” you shout at him, pointing at him aggressively to emphasize your words.

“I didn’t mean--” he starts, but you interrupt him. Anger is bubbling inside you and you can’t contain it anymore.

“You knew you were putting me in danger but you stayed anyway!”

“You were the one who said I could lay low at yours!” he retorts, rising from his seat. You scoff at his irrelevant argument and he immediately cringes at his poor wording.

“I didn’t know you were an assassin and a gang member! I would’ve thought twice about letting you come into my life if I knew I’d get kidnapped!” you spit, your jaw clenched in anger.

“I didn’t want this!”

“Well I sure hope so!”, you scoff, hands rising in the air in disbelief. “But what did you seriously expect, huh?” You try to chase away the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Now is not the time to cry.

“I know I should’ve left you!” he starts in anger but his voice breaks and he looks away. You look at him in confusion. You are not used to seeing vulnerability in him. Granted you don’t really know him but this feels out of character for him. “I just- I didn’t want to be alone,” he says, voice pregnant with emotion. You are taken aback by his sudden openness, brows furrowed and mouth gaping in confusion. He still doesn’t look at you, and you don’t manage to say anything, too lost to be able to utter a word.

He passes a hand through his black hair and sighs loudly. The both of you are standing awkwardly, you staring at him and him making a point of avoiding your eyes. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, anything, but you are left utterly speechless. He scoffs darkly before walking towards the back of the room to a kitchen.

“Anyway, you’ll be safe tomorrow, and you’ll be able to leave.”

Yoongi exits the room and you are left alone with your thoughts.

---------------------------------------------------

You decide to sit on the floor in front of the big windows, enjoying the unending view. It must be one in the morning, and the streets are empty, apart from the odd car driving down the road every once in a while. The sight is calming, as you see the few lights still lit up in the night. Your apartment is not exactly downtown so you don’t have a view as nice as this one. Everything is so silent, so still. You know exactly why you are staring so intensely at the view, trying to chase any thought of Yoongi.

You are definitely calmer now but you don’t want to think about him, trying to bottle up any emotion deep down. You’ve never been one to have a healthy relationship with your feelings, and you are not going to start now. Most of your resentment is gone now that you finally confronted him about it, but your last exchange only left confusion. Confusion on what he was talking about, but also on why your heart squeezed so painfully when you saw him so vulnerable or when he walked away from you. You bring your knees to your chest.

In a way, you can understand where he is coming from. You let him stay and threw all care in the wind also because you were feeling lonely. Perhaps both of you were weak at that moment. Surely he should have been more careful, but you don’t blame him as much as you did before.

You hear a door open and close but you don’t move from your spot, keeping your eyes trained on the view. From the corner of your eyes, you see Yoongi sit cross legged next to you. The both of you stay in silence like that for a bit of time, watching the horizon before you decide to break the silence.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you like that,” you say softly, turning your head to look at him. His grey eyes meet yours. They are definitively warmer than before, and you feel reassured.

“Hmm. I just hope the neighbors didn’t hear you scream,” he answers with his usual snarky grin. You shoot him an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, that might be a problem in the future.”

He doesn’t look too concerned, shrugging and leaning back on his arms, stretching his legs as he takes in the view in front of him. One question still plagues your mind, and you can’t stop it from spilling from your lips.

“When you said you didn’t want to be alone earlier, what did you mean?”

He doesn’t look taken aback by your question, and he turns his head back to you, sitting up straight.

“You ever wonder where I got that from?” he says, pointing to his scar across his right side. You nod positively. “When I was six, my parents were attacked by a man and his small gang. My father was a rich accountant who refused to work for them, and the leader of the small gang took offence. One night, they raided my house, torturing and killing my mother in front of his eyes, and they planned to do the same to me.”

Yoongi pauses, staring at his trembling hands, and you regret asking him such a personal question. It is obviously a very difficult subject for him, but he resumes talking before you can say anything.

“Apparently, the neighbors heard the commotion and called the police as the leader carved a line across my eye, so he decided to kill my father and to flee. I was placed in an orphanage for boys. During that time, I met with Jin and 5 other boys. We all grew up without being adopted, and one of the other boys, Namjoon, decided that we needed revenge on life. We started partaking in some pretty illegal stuff, and our little group grew. We were seven at first, and now we are the most powerful gang” he says, a hint of pride in his voice at the last sentence.

“For more than twenty years I searched for the people that killed my parents, and Jin is the one who finally found them. It was the leader of Wolf’s Fang, a rival gang, and I decided that I waited enough for revenge. I made sure he felt tenfold the pain he inflicted my parents.”

Yoongi’s eyes are dark as the night now, contrasting with the paleness of his skin under the moonlight. An aura of dangerousness is radiating from him, and you can’t help but feel intimidated.

“But when I finally killed him I felt so empty. What was there anymore?” he adds with furrowed brows and he stares at his open hands. “I got what I wanted. I lost my edge that day. I had nothing left to fight for, or at least I was convinced of it. They found me easily, I wasn’t even trying to hide. But I remembered that they already caused my family too much pain, I wasn’t going to let them cause more. If I were to die, it wouldn’t be by their hand. So I escaped. And that’s when you found me”

He turns to face you, his eyes back to their warmth, making your cheeks heat up.

“I guess I just needed a stranger to take care of me a little,” he concludes, smiling awkwardly at you.

A comfortable silence settles between you while the two of you enjoy the view. Something seems to have lifted from Yoongi’s shoulders, he looks much more relaxed than when you entered his appartement. Maybe because he told you everything, the whole truth, and that he doesn’t need to hide anything from you.

You don’t know how much time you spent in silence together, enjoying each other’s presence before you start to feel tired again. You haven’t really slept that much yesterday and all the tension from the day vanishes, leaving tiredness in its wake. A yawn escapes your lips. You don’t even know why you lean your head on his shoulder but you do, perhaps too sleepy to even realise what you are doing. Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind thankfully, and he leans his head on top of yours. You fall asleep like that, and you don’t even stir when Yoongi lifts you up to place you on his bed before joining you.

--------------------------------------------------

It’s well into the morning when you wake up. It takes you a minute before understanding where you are, your heart racing a bit when you realise you are alone in an unknown bed. Yoongi must already be gone, you realise when you walk into the empty living room. It’s already 12 am so you decide to head to the kitchen in search of something to eat. After your meal, you take a shower, taking some clothes Yoongi left for you this morning. You can’t help the blush creep on your skin as you realise he thought to leave you clothes just before leaving to take down a gang. The clothes he left are too big for you, an oversized t-shirt, a sweatshirt and a comfortable pair of sweatpants, but you enjoy the cozyness --and his smell on the clothes-- too much to complain.

The rest of your day is spent waiting. You start by exploring every inch of the apartment, trying to discover more of Yoongi. Unfortunately for you, you don’t find anything except one photo, hidden between two books. You found it by error, accidentally knocking a row of books on the desk. You instantly recognize two people in the photo, Yoongi and Jin. They seem much younger, barely adults. The others seem much younger, and your heart twists. These boys are too young to be in a gang... You turn the photo to inspect the back and you find an inscription.

“Birds of prey - 2013

Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook”

The seven of them are looking in defiance at the camera, as if they have something to prove. You sigh before placing back the photo.

By the time seven rolls around, you can’t help but feel a bit worried. Is it normal that he’s been gone for so long? What if something has happened to him? What are you supposed to do then? You decide against pacing, choosing to sit on the armchair across the door instead, knees to your chest as you wait for his return.

When the door finally opens, you spring from your seat. Yoongi comes in while limping but as soon as his eyes fall on you, a warm smile erupts on his bruised face. You are too preoccupied by his disheveled state to return his smile, instead coming to his side to help him walk to the couch. He stops you in your tracks with a raise of his hands.

“Don’t worry, someone already took care of me. I’m all patched up,” he reassures you, and a bit of tension eases from your shoulders. You sit on the armchair as he settles on the couch. He can tell that you are dying to know what happened, seeing as you are practically buzzing across the edge of your seat across him.

“It’s over,” he states simply at first and you let out a sigh of relief. It’s finally over? It almost doesn’t feel real, as if these past days were just a dream. “We took care of most of the members, and Namjoon ordered some of our men to make sure the rest join them soon”

“That means I can go home?” you ask excitedly. You could have sworn you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes but it left as soon as it came.

“Yes, of course,” he says, “I could drive-”

“But first, we need to celebrate our freedom,” you interrupt him with a smirk. He is surprised at first, but soon returns your smile.

“You’re right, let’s order some takeout for tonight”

You spend the evening eating and laughing. You are happy to finally see Yoongi relax completely with you, able to tell you stories about his life. You now would like to meet the rest of the boys in the photo, first and foremost to thank them since they were part of the team that took out the gang, but also because they sound funny in Yoongi’s stories. They all seem closer to a family than most of the conventional ones, and the fact that they are gang members doesn’t really scare you anymore. They are Yoongi’s friends, after all.

By the time you finish your meal and a movie, it’s ‘unfortunately’ too late for you to go home, and Yoongi advises you to stay just one night more. Seeing that you’ve done the same for him, he has to return the favor, he explained, and you happily oblige, perhaps a bit too ecstatic to be able to spend more time with him. It’s funny how fast you’ve come to trust this man and enjoy his company, even though you are aware of his profession.

This time, it’s him who falls asleep first, head leaning on your shoulder while watching a movie on the couch, and you decide to put him to bed. You chuckle at the feeling of deja vu when you lead him to the bedroom, supporting him as he limps his way to the bed. You pause for a moment after he sinks on the mattress; Where are you supposed to sleep? On the bed with him? On the couch? You are about to step out of the room when a hand catches your wrist.

“Where are you going?” he asks groggily, eyes barely open to look at you. You smile at him.

“Nowhere” you answer, and he closes his eyes back, his hands slipping from around your wrist as a reassured smile creeps across his lips.

You settle on the other side of the bed, careful to still put distance between you. You turn on your side to be able to face him. He is peaceful like that, and you smile to yourself as you brush away the stray strands of black hair covering his eyes.

The next morning passes rather quickly, mostly due to the fact that you sleep off most of it in Yoongi’s arms. After a rather flustered waking up, and an awkward breakfast, the both of you decide to get you back to your apartment. You need to swing by your office first, as you need to retrieve your spare apartment keys in your locker. If you were previously warry to go back there and face your boss, you don’t even care anymore. You’ve almost died for fuck’s sake, what can he possibly do that will scare you. If anything, he will be the one to be scared if he dares to say anything, Yoongi assured you, making you smile.

This time, he drives rather calmly and you are grateful for that. First of all because you don’t want to die in a car crash, and secondly because the longer the ride, the more time you can still spend with Yoongi. He is more silent than usual, a sullen look on his face. You can understand him, for some reason you aren’t exactly the happiest at the prospect of going back to your previous life, to your stupid job and your stupid boss, and more importantly to your empty and lonely apartment.

Maybe some of Yoongi’s nonchalance rubbed off on you, you think to yourself as you stroll inside your office building, wearing oversized sweats and followed by a scary looking man with a scar across his face. You don’t even stop to answer the questions the office bitch sends your way, shutting her up with a dark glare. You’ve never liked her, she always took credit for other’s work, so you don’t feel guilty for scaring her. You go straight to your locker, Yoongi still following behind you. You are thankful for him being with you, you are sure you wouldn’t have the same confidence without him.

You are rummaging through your locker and retrieving your things when a furious voice interrupts you.

“Y/l/n! Where were you? You’ve missed almost a week of work! It’s unacceptable-”

A week? What a joke, it’s only the third day you’ve missed. Anger starts to bubble inside you. You’ve never missed a day of work before, and this asshole makes it as though it was a regular occurrence, not an ounce of concern in his annoying voice as he shouts. You tune him out as you continue to search for your stuff, and you ignoring him only seems to infuriate him more - and you love this. You’ve suffered his abuse too much to pay anymore attention to him, and when you finally find your keys, you slam your locker door, shutting him up instantly.

You turn around to face him, reveling on the look of absolute shock written on his face. The once so soft spoken and respectful employee is so disrespectful now. You notice Yoongi glaring daggers at him, jaw clenched, and you are thankful that he doesn’t say anything. This is your moment.

“Listen asshole, I’ve had enough of your shit. So stop harassing me or I’ll make sure you won’t ever be able to open that mouth of yours again,” you spit coldly. He stammers, trying in vain to say anything. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Also, don’t even dare try to complain about me to HR or the police, I have enough proof of workplace abuse to get you fired in a second. I’ll be back to take the rest of my stuff,” you add, glancing around in the office to find every pair of eyes on you. Satisfied with your little outburst, you leave, prompting a smirking Yoongi to follow after you.

It’s only in the car that the frown on your face lifts instantly and you burst in laughter with Yoongi.

“That felt good,” you confide with a playful grin. He returns your smile, his eyes twinkling with something that looks like awe and pride. The car ride to your apartment is already more cheery, the both of you laughing at the looks on their faces when you exited dramatically. You’ve dreamed of doing that more than once, and it seems that Yoongi gave you enough confidence to stand up for yourself this time.

The realisation that it’s goodbye seems to dawn the both of you when you enter the elevator. Your heart squeezes in your chest as the elevator gets closer to your floor. This can’t be it. You have to do something. The door opens on your floor and you step out after Yoongi.

He follows you to the door and waits as you turn your key in the lock. Thoughts are swirling in your brain; Will you be able to see each other after this? Does he even want to? You turn around when the door is finally open. You don’t know what to say, and your racing mind isn’t helping you trying to figure out a way for him to stay with you. He seems nervous as well, biting his bottom lip as his eyes avoid yours.

“Thank you… For keeping me safe,” you say meekly, cheeks heating up. His smoke colored eyes meet yours.

“Of course Y/n, you saved me first,” he responds softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. He does have pretty lips. So pink, and they look so soft. You don’t even realise you are staring at them until they come closer. Wait what? You snap your eyes to Yoongi and you meet his gaze. His face stops only inches away from yours and you feel your whole face burn, and your heart beats at a thousand miles an hour. He is right there in front of you, so close that you can feel his hot breath tingling against your skin, yet he is not close enough for you.

You crash your lips against his in impatience. It feels as though you’ve been waiting for this for your whole life, feeling so right to be in his arms. The kiss is full of passion, his tongue sneaking past your lips to find yours. His hands grip on your hips to get you closer and you practically melt in his arms. Everything feels so hot, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, your hands entangled in his hair. You breathlessly pull away from his kiss to grab him closer to you, flushing his body against yours. He hastily closes the door behind you and his lips resume their assault on yours. Let’s just say that you stayed together in more ways than one that day.

------------------------

Meeting Min Yoongi was maybe the best mistake of your life. Sure, you got kidnapped and shot at, you lost your job and had to hide from a powerful gang with an assassin, but you’d do it all over again just for him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you @minty-joonie​ and @wwilloww​ for helping me proofread!

I hope you liked it!! Please tell me what you thought of Black Crow!!

💜

[babyfrogz]

PSA on Disability: Before you draw/write/otherwise create content of Kaz Brekker

Hi there! My name is Scooter and I am, among other things, disabled, a cane user and a fan of Six of Crows! With the announcement of the TV cast (!!!!) I figured we’d get some new fans with it and I thought I’d share some tips/things to keep in mind to make content of Kaz accurate with regards to mobility aids & disability. I love you guys but some things I’ve seen in the SoC tags made me lose brain cells lol

First I’d like to share a short video on how to properly use a cane, since... a surprising amount of people get this wrong?

Two major takeaways here:

A cane should reach the bottom of the hip, about crotch height. Any higher or lower reduces the effectiveness and can potentially cause further injury to the shoulder, elbow, etc.

When walking with a cane, you always hold it on the opposite side of the injured/weaker leg. I don’t think it’s ever said in the books which leg he broke, (personally I’m team left because ahaha I do that.mp4) but whichever you pick, the cane goes on the other side. When walking, if the injured leg is on the ground, so is the cane. Standing still, typically, the weight goes on the better leg and the cane is used for balance.

And some more notes, just from my experience with being disabled, using a cane and also consuming fan content:

Just.... for the love of everything do NOT be weird and fetishy about his disability/disabled characters in general. Didn’t think I’d have to write this one out, but if you spend enough time in the Grishaverse tags..... you see some shit. Stop It Please

A popular pose I’ve seen to draw Kaz in is with his cane in his hands/tucked under his arm/otherwise not on the ground. Not inherently an issue (unless... he’s walking...... literally what do you think it’s for you’re killing me here) but it just... doesn’t make a lot of sense? It’s not there for no reason. I feel like a lot of people, consciously or not, see his cane as a weapon first and a mobility aid second, and draw it as such. While Kaz weaponizing his cane is one of my favorite parts of the series, it’s important to keep in mind that drawing it swinging around without reason sets kind of a bummer tone for disabled people in this fanbase.

^ Plus the fact that canes made for actually bearing weight are pretty bulky, especially ones that are specially crafted with the ability to break bones. I think he tucks it under his arm in canon only once or twice, and still never for very long. I myself only ever hook my cane on my elbow when I need to use both hands, and only for about a minute or two at a time, during which I put my weight on my better leg.

Speaking of going without the cane: yes, it does happen. It doesn’t mean he’s less disabled or doesn’t need it. Remember that after being without his cane in the books, Kaz is shown to be fatigued and in pain. If you’re going to write him into a situation where he can’t take his cane going somewhere/to do something/whatever, don’t forget how it affects him.

One thing I love about the Six of Crows books is the little things about being disabled that I relate to on a VISCERAL level, which I attribute to the fact that Ms. Bardugo also knows what chronic pain and using a mobility aid is like. So in case you don’t know what it’s like, here’s a few things that will add a little bit of authenticity to your portrayal:

Stairs, and I absolutely can’t stress this enough, are the enemy. They suck they hurt and it’s so SO easy to accidentally stumble on. Which, you know, makes it that much funnier that Kaz has chosen to roost up three flights of them. (Side note: I can’t tell you the terrible things I would do to be able to read a fic where he has to begrudgingly bunk with Jesper because he can’t make it up to his own quarters on a particularly bad pain day. if anyone wants to write this please tag me I will literally love you forever) edit: my good buddy Jenn has written the fic in question and it’s pure gold please give it a read and uuhh like comment subscribe

It’s not very fun to be a cane user in the rain. Very slippery. 0/10 would prefer to not fall on my ass thank you. AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON SNOW AND ICE

You don’t usually have anywhere to put a cane when you sit down or are otherwise occupied. Sure, you can hold onto it, but then you’re down a hand. Leaning it against something runs the risk of it falling down, which makes an INCREDIBLY LOUD NOISE and OFTEN HURTS TO BEND DOWN AND PICK UP AGAIN. life is pain

As mentioned above, when using a cane, you’re down a hand until you sit down again. (I’ve seen my fair share of fics where people forget Kaz doesn’t have three arms and have him do something that requires both hands while allegedly using his cane. do the math lol) You learn to make do with one (or ask for help but we all know how in character THAT is) but it’s still ANNOYINGGG

Maybe most importantly, don’t write him as the pitiful cripple. (Don’t put the word “cripple” in the mouths of characters you’re trying to portray as sympathetic, either. THAT INCLUDES YOURSELF) Kaz exists as a capable and badass AND disabled character, which is SUCH AN INCREDIBLE RARITY I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO TELL YOU!!! He clearly does not feel sorry for himself, so don’t you start doing it for him. (And if you write anything about magically healing his leg I will come to your house and whack your shins with my cane and make you reread the pages in CK where he shuts down that exact proposition, and I will make you read it over and over. don’t try me it will hurt) Yes, being disabled in a world built for abled people can be very frustrating, and it does carry a kind of grief with it. It’s okay to write him struggling, but please for the love of everything don’t make him pathetic.

Lastly, when in doubt: ASK! RESEARCH! (But mostly ask. Often times online resources on disability written by abled people, well intended as they are, come across as condescending. They’re good for factual information, but usually lack the actual experience of being disabled.) My inbox is always open for questions and I know I’m not the only cane user in the fanbase! (Please ask if questions are okay before asking a disabled person about their experiences, though!)

If you took the time to read all of this, thank you so much!!! I hope this post can become a good resource for creators, and if you’re also a cane user, feel free to add anything you think is worth sharing!

[p1harmonyofficial]

[📰] A Day in the Life With P1Harmony, K-Pop's Most Optimistic Rookies: 'We Want to Be Artists'

By Jessica Oak

Over the past few months, P1Harmony unveiled their debut album Disharmony: Stand Out, premiered the box office movie P1Harmony: New World Begins with Amazon Music, and released an onslaught of rip-roaring dance videos. It's safe to say the new boy band has made both their incredible talent and their charm clear.

Billboard Korea was invited to join their packed, day-to-day activities to see how members Keeho, Jiung, Theo, Intak, Soul and Jongseob are navigating the fast lane to success and their infinite dreams.

As a quiet Sunday evening dawns on Seoul in the third week of November, Billboard Korea is greeted by the highly-energetic, freshly debuted K-pop group during a short break. In the midst of the seemingly endless hours that accompany K-pop star schedules -- especially those for new acts -- P1Harmony has just returned to their label headquarters from filming what would be their last televised performance of debut single “Siren” on music program SBS Inkigayo.

They’re all still in their customized stage outfits, now sipping smoothies and reviewing their recorded live performance on their managers' mobile devices before driving off to another scheduled appearance.

“I usually drink coffee, Americano with extra espresso shots, but I can use some sugar today,” Jiung, 19, says in his deep voice. His pleasant smile is seen through sips of an Oreo smoothie, the popular choice among the members (minus Keeho, who opted for chocolate, and Theo, who chose a strawberry flavor). “We definitely poured a lot of energy at Inkigayo.”

As seen on Inkigayo, the group’s collective ability to deliver pitch-perfect vocals through the intricate and hardcore choreography for “Siren” has been one of the key factors that led to early mainstream recognition.

With big puppy dog eyes and a lisp that occasionally slips in, Intak, 17 -- who is largely considered to be the main dancer of the group by fans, despite P1H saying they would rather not define each members’ roles -- further explains their efforts. “We are a little bit exhausted from putting in so much energy to our last performance," he says. "I think we all wanted to make a lasting impression and give our fans everything.”

Pointing to his shoes, the group's 19-year-old leader Keeho jokingly adds, “I think I danced too hard, my toe hurts!”

Keeho is Canadian-Korean, and is the most easygoing -- as well as the wittiest -- member of the group. His humor is unguarded, but his intentions are kind. His welcoming personality is often what seems to break the ice during interviews.

Youngest member Jongseob, 15, whose palpable maturity is both endearing and somewhat eerie, quietly adds that he, too, felt his moves were “much bigger and stronger” than usual. We later learn that behind his politeness, there is a super-talkative, introverted child prodigy with big ideas and a big smile.

Soon enough, the room inside FNC Entertainment headquarters starts bustling with staff members, which means it’s time to get ready for the next event. The group is rushed to get prepped and each member starts rotating into the makeup chair in an almost-robotic way, as a seasoned artist would, taking turns for their hair and foundation to be retouched.

“I have a big mosquito bite on the left side of my face,” Keeho reminds his two makeup artists, “Who gets bit by a mosquito during winter?” He turns to the group to laugh, “It is not a pimple, I promise!”

When asked if there are certain stage habits they've adopted since debut, Keeho quickly answers, “I make sure I have nothing in between or on my teeth and floss my teeth with a Q-tip so it doesn’t ruin my makeup.” Immediately, the whole room erupts in laughter. Keeho is clearly the funny one, but when you mention this to Keeho, he disagrees and says, “We all try to keep our moods up so we are constantly saying silly things. Theo is hilarious, too; he's just shy.”

Soon, P1Harmony heads to the Lotte Theater located in Jamsil, Seoul, where they have been coming for weeks to have small fan-meetings of less than 50 people due to COVID-19 social-distancing restrictions. They arrive just in time at 7:00 p.m. when the movie ends and, minutes later, are ushered into a crowd of overly excited fans -- all of whom are holding its gigantic cameras, ready to flash away.

They're holding these meetups at the movie theaters because P1Harmony is the first K-pop group to ever have released a feature film prior to their debut. The new and unconventional strategy, created by P1Harmony's management agency FNC Entertainment to help them stand out in a hyper-competitive industry, proved to be exceedingly effective. Not only did the full-length sci-fi movie help them gain traction in Korea thanks to co-stars that included some top names in entertainment, but it gave them the opportunity to be exposed on a global platform like Amazon Music when a 20-minute highlight version made its international debut.

Just a few feet from the front row of movie seats, the boys each take turns sharing their feelings about its promotional activities of “Siren” coming to end. They then do a short fan-focused skit (Jiung and Theo makes hearts and piggybacks each other upon fans requests randomly picked out from a box) and promise to come back with more music ASAP.

As a farewell gift, the boys go all out for a surprise performance of the Disharmony b-side track “Butterfly” and an encore performance of “Siren,” despite a less-than-ideal stage. Without any special lights or fancy backdrops, the narrow carpet strip between the first row of chairs and the movie screen was not the most flattering space for a boy-band performance, but turned out to be a supremely enjoyable moment of the night: P1Harmony's in-sync step coordination, balance control, spatial awareness and general collective optimism helped them manage through their gesture-heavy choreography (without anyone getting punched in the face) in what's a nearly impossible, vulnerable experience to see from any K-pop act.

Afterwards, Theo takes the mic, and asks the crowd their one last question: “Do you think we’ve improved since our first showcase?” The fans shriek, “YES!”

As we are walking to their cars, Jongseob says, “Soul is always wearing his ginormous skull rings -- he's a rockstar at heart -- and they usually end up hurting someone during our dance practices.” He's still out of breath and completely drenched in sweat. “But somehow, we managed to dodge getting hurt so I guess that was a success!”

Soul, the half-Japanese, half-Korean 15-year-old innocently looks up and nods. Soul rarely talks, but in his defense, it's not because “he doesn’t care,” but because he’s an “observer.” According to Soul, he gets more thrilled by watching his members having fun. Keeho confirms, “Soul is so protective of us; very loving and compromising.”

“It’s always so satisfying when we can perform in front of an actual audience, because we rarely get to meet our fans in person due to the current situation,” Theo, 19, shares while speaking up for the first time during this interview. “It is unfortunate that we don’t get to do it as much as we would like to, although we have live online meet-ups almost every week.”

Despite his shyness, Theo is more comfortable being in an intimate setting with his fans, while also trying to be more outgoing and giving -- his way of expressing his gratitude. While occasionally unreadable at times, Theo was one of the only members who consistently posed for the cameras throughout the one-hour fan session.

“Theo can come off the wrong way at first, kind of like Soul," explains group leader Keeho. "But once you get to know him, which takes some time, he is probably one of the more detail-oriented and caring members. He remembers what you said or what you like, and will have it ready for you when you’re least expecting it.”

On their car ride back to FNC, the boys are understandably exhausted, but no one is complaining or expecting to rest. Instead, they light up at the idea of dancing more. Since COVID-19 has limited most of what would normally make them busier with appearances and concerts, Jiung says they usually cap the night off by either going to dance practice or making online content. Tonight, they are going to practice.

While it's a typical K-pop rookie answer to say that their nights will be filled with rehearsing, our skepticism is proven wrong. Starting after dinner around 11:30 p.m., their dance practice is going to be an all-nighter. Jiung and Intak have been coordinating their moves for a short TikTok video for almost 50 minutes.

“We ended our debut promo but we are doing a follow-up promo for 'Nemonade' and have a number of special projects and collaborations coming up,” Jiung teases for his upcoming promos. “We seriously have so much to practice that we haven't had much personal time. We only go back to our dorms to shower and sleep.”

“You'd be stunned if you saw our dorms right now,” Keeho tells us. “We have a group chat where our individual chores are listed, but that list hasn't been updated since Oct. 14. Our moms help us out here and there but that's a whole other conversation.” Jongseob chuckles and suggests that they should play a card game of BANG! tonight so the loser can clean what's most urgent and in dire need of attention: the sink.

But besides chores, what does P1Harmony do during their off-hours?

The first to answer is Jiung, who carries himself with serene confidence on and off stage, and is perhaps one of the more collected and determined members of the group. He has very specific personal preferences (he loves raw garlic, can’t be cooked) and indulges in multiple hobbies (reading on a wide-range of subjects, sketching “to take things off his mind" that results in near-perfect replications) and gets consumed watching videos on “solo camping,” noting that one of his many goals is to go camping alone one day.

“Our personal needs and time are important, but all of that right now is secondary,” Jiung says. He stresses that he and his members are more focused on finessing their craft and is trying not to lose sight of their ultimate goal, which is to be recognized for their musicality. All the members have writing credits on their debut album.

They say their hard work ethic and long hours are purely driven by their excitement of finally being able to do what they've been dreaming of for years. The group’s debut didn’t go exactly as planned, getting postponed multiple times for several reasons, so one can only imagine their buildup of determination.

Keeho adds, “We love doing online meet-ups. It’s so much fun and it’s the only way we can interact with our fans right now, but at the same time we are kind of worried that we will be, or I will be, known as the ‘funny’ one, and wonder if we could ever be taken seriously as musicians.”

Nonetheless, he is flattered that people find him funny and enjoys watching fan-made memes of himself -- some of which have earned hundreds of thousands of views on social media.

Now, in full-out leader mode, Keeho squarely shares, “The only reason why we are so motivated is because we just love singing and performing. I can confidently say, on the behalf of our members, is that the six of us are here because we want to be artists; we want to deliver our message and emotions through our music, and we don’t want any of that to be overshadowed by our other activities.”

So, what about P1Harmony’s music?

“Of course, we want to inspire and have a message that our fans can relate to," Keeho says. "But what matters to us the most, is that we are genuine and make music that feels like ‘us’ at that very moment." Jiung adds, “I want to make music that can remind us what mind state or what type of emotions we were feeling at the time.”

Keeho agrees. “Our music defines us. We want to be sincere, and hope that our sincerity translates to our fans worldwide. I think it’s important to make music that touches us first; music that feels true to ourselves," he says. "We are all very opinionated, involved and talk to each other a lot about what we feel when we are writing our music.”

Although the group is at most times in high spirits, they admit they have concerns about their future. When asked if the idea of failure or self-doubt ever devours them, they are all remarkably positive and dedicated.

“I get worried about failure, but I try not to focus on our results right now," Intak says earnestly. “I think it’s a process, and whatever the outcome may be, what matters to me the most is enjoying this [learning] process and being humble and grateful for every little achievement we establish as a group.” However, he is adamant to “to make an indelible mark in history.” “I want us to be remembered as a prominent musical figure in history. I want to touch the world; I want to move and impact people with what we do. I want to go on-record with Billboard for this!”

“I also worry,” continues Jiung gleefully, looking more ecstatic than ever despite the heavy subject. “I think about our failure, but I have this gut-feeling we are going to do well. We all have this crazy, enthusiastic vibe, and are pretty much convinced we are going to be awesome. I think we lift each other up and have high hopes because we have no doubt when we are making music.”

Jongseob jumps in to clarify: “We don't think about failure at least when we are in our creative zones.”

“No offense to Intak,” Theo says peacefully, “but I don’t care for results. I don’t want to change the world. I don’t want to be pressured to make a difference, because we set our own standards and that’s what matters the most. I’m just happy to be singing and performing right now.”

“Yeah, you know what, I am not concerned [about failure] at all,” Keeho continues with his mischievous smirk. “I always say, ‘We are destined for greatness,’ and I truly believe it. We are going to be legends!”

And after spending a full, exhaustive day with them, at this point, we believe it too.

[s-trawberryv-eins]

Survivors Guilt

NOT MY GIF

Survivors Guilt

Summary: Caroline has helped the Avengers from the comfort of her lab for years; Captain America thinks it’s time she added to her resume.

Warnings: Minor violence, mentions of guilt and anxiety, Soft!Sam.

Please read here before reading!

Stark!OC x Avengers

Word count: 1780

AVENGERS COMPOUND

UPSTATE NEW YORK

“I know you’ve been working on prototypes for a nanotech stealth suit. I also know Tony trained you in hand to hand. It’s a S.H.I.E.L.D requirement that you can use a gun. And don’t even get me started on that brain of yours." 

Everybody knew that Captain America had a way with words. From his speech at the Triskelion to his pre time heist monologue, Rogers knew how to address and audience. This was, however, the first time that Caroline had been on the receiving end of one of his lectures.

“You’re invaluable in the lab, in your workshop, I know. But why sit there, when you could be doing so much more out on the field with us?" Stark clenched her jaw, inwardly grimacing as her teeth ground together. 

“Aren’t there enough of you already? Plus, I’m really not my dad, you know?” A nervous laugh died in her throat as Sam joined the duo in the kitchen.

“You might as well give in, Care! This man won’t stop til you've signed your name in blood. Or you know, not signed. Big ol’ bully.” Cap merely rolled his eyes at his friend and continued pressing the Stark girl for the answer he wanted.

“Caroline, listen. This team needs you out there. You could only make us better. If you want to continue your work hiding behind your desk, fine. I’ll leave you be. But I don’t believe that that’s true. You’re more like Tony than you think.” Without waiting for a response, Steve grabbed his coffee and headed out of the room.

“Dramatic ass idiot.” Mumbling under her breath, the twenty something year old mocked him immaturely. “Ooh, I’m Captain America! I'm good at punching stuff and talking and making dramatic ass exits!” The sour look on the woman’s face disappeared entirely when Sam broke out into a booming laughter.

-

“FRIDAY, we need to speed it up. What did Dad use in his last mark?" As the AI produced a breakdown of the final Iron Man suit Tony ever made, Caroline suddenly became overrun with guilt. Doubting herself and her right to be intruding on her late fathers things. She was his daughter, es, but did that really give her the right to take from his legacy?

The doctor decided not, closing the blue holographic screen and instead asking FRIDAY to run a complete scan of the suit she was currently wearing.

“FRI, please can you ask Sam to come find me?"

“Of course, Miss.”

The Captain had gotten under her skin and she hated it. Caroline loved her job; she was proud of her creations, and of her contribution to the Avengers Initiative. Never feeling anything close to boredom when tinkering away as Tony did. But she couldn't help but wonder about the alternative she’d been offered. 

“Hey Princess. You called?” Wilson strolled into the room, a curious look on his face. He’d never spent a great deal of time in the workshop before; only ever collecting Morgan or bringing Caroline a warm drink per her request. 

“I need help, Sam! I can’t think!” Falcon chuckled at the frazzled doctor and closed up the screens in front of her. Clearing the mountains of paperwork from the couch, the soldier ushered his friend and sat her down.

“Princess, c’mon. Calm down. Gimme a list of reasons why you might want to start field work.” It took Caroline less than a second to answer.

“I could be out there, helping in the thick of it! Doing what you do! Plus, and absolutely no offence, Sammy, but sometimes teaching you guys how to use my tech is painful. If I was there with you it wouldn't matter!” As she paused to think on it, Sam sat patiently, waiting for his friend. “My dad did all these amazing things. I know my work is useful to you guys, but I could do more! I know I could, Sammy.”

A smile broke out across his face, but he made no comment on her answer. 

“And why do you think it’s a bad idea? What’re the cons?” Greeted only with silence, he nudged the girl softly. A worrying lip between her teeth and a hidden truth in her eyes, Sam read her all too easily. 

“Nobody thinks you’re him. Nobody thinks it, wants it, or expects it. I promise you, princess.” Wet brown eyes flicked up to meet his own.

“But what if I fail?”

“Then we’ll help dust you off, and you’ll try again. We all fail sometimes, Stark. Except me, of course.” Giggling at the avengers faux arrogance, Caroline let her head rest against his shoulder softly. 

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

-

Despite her screaming lungs, laboured breaths, and sweat covered body, Caroline didn’t hold back in her training once. Sam had sworn to push her past her limits; he wasn’t lying. The man had even set up training sessions with Bucky to ensure she was really being challenged.

“Let’s take 5. I’m impressed. You’re a fast learner.” Barnes’ words allowed an audible sigh of relief to fall from Caroline’s lips. Plonking herself down on the mat gracelessly, she stretched out and smiled as her hot skin made contact with the cold surface of the material. Bucky watched her with a smile on his face. Truthfully, he'd been expecting it to have been more of a challenge. But the Stark girl picked most things up with ease; and what she didn't she’d practice over and over until she did. Sweat ran down her neck, clinging to her collarbones. Chest heaving silently as she caught her breath, the Sergeant found himself staring. Clad only in a sports bra and leggings, he struggled to tear his eyes away from the girl.

“Quit staring, Barnes. I’m all sweaty and gross.” Smirking despite being called out, Bucky’s eyes instead found Caroline’s. Forcing herself to hold back her smile, the girl bit at her lip gently and focused her eyes on the ceiling rather than the intense blue-eyed gazed she'd been locked in.

“Excuse me, agents, but Mrs Potts-Stark has requested that Caroline meet her in her office." Bucky extended his arm, offering a hand to pull Stark to her feet.

“That concludes training for today then. Good work, doll.”

-

“Momma, please? It’ll be okay. You know they’d never let anything happen to me."

“I swear to all that’s holy, Caroline, if you come home with anything more than a scratch I will bring this world to its knees." Tone slightly hysterical, Caroline couldn't confidently say that her adoptive mother was joking. 

“I know you would, Momma. I know." Pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, Caroline tried to keep in control of her emotions. But how could she when the woman in front of her had given her so much? Abandoned by her biological mother, initially rejected by her father. It’s always been Pepper. The thought that Caroline could never truly repay her for all she’s done gripped her from time to time; but that’s a story for another day.

-

Two days into a mission to retrieve stolen alien tech from a US based terrorist organisation, Caroline was incredibly grateful for the brutal training she'd done with Sam. Aching muscles, a bloodied face, and a cut up leg and she’d decided her time in the training hall would have to increase.

“Caroline, what’s your location?” Steve's voice rang out just as her fist collided with an enemy’s face.

“For god's sake Steve-” a grunt sounded as she landed a kick in his ribs “-use the bracelet! That’s what I made them for!” One final hit and the guard was unconscious at Starks feet. 

“Keep up, old man!” Clint’s voice broke through, the bright smile evident in his tone. Caroline’s vast range of new technology had inadvertently placed the Captain at a disadvantage. He tried, he did, but he often struggled to grasp the concept or the need for such complicated gadgets; his complaints were unfortunately outweighed by the sheer usefulness of the tech. 

The bracelet the girl had used was similar to the Kimoyo beads used in Wakanda in that it acted as a multitool. The specific feature that Caroline spoke of was a tracking device used to keep the team informed of ones location. It’d been a particularly hard piece of software to get the hang of due to the security risk they posed. Banner and herself had spent a while trying to decide how best to have the bracelets disable themselves in the event that they end up in the wrong hands. 

Once the pair were confident in their creation, they had the team come in to set theirs up; the super soldiers found it particularly difficult, which resulted in a fresh round of jokes at their expense.

“The South gate is clear.” Having confidently cleared the area alone, she headed to the rendezvous point. Barton was waiting for her arrival, and from there they’d stand guard as Natasha disabled the magnetic door locks, allowing the team to gather the stolen tech and get home.

“Barton, Stark, I got two headed your way.” The heads up from the Captain gave the archer time to dawdle in his choice of arrowhead, even asking the doctor her opinion before hitting his targets perfectly.

“The doors are down. We’ve got 5 minutes before the backup generator kicks in.” 

“Thanks Nat. We’re on our way.”

-

Caroline had spent a while with Sam after her first mission. She’d quickly learnt that Sam was more than what he seemed. A prankster, yes. Goofy and full of attitude and the ability to wind everyone up at the same time. But he’d also spend hours listening to their troubles, he could sift through a thousand emotions and pinpoint the root cause of a problem, and he never judged; not really anyway. Not when it mattered.

It’d taken her a while to see it. Survivors guilt, he called it. Sam had figured it out when after her seventh mission she’d confided in him, explaining how she still felt like an impostor when out on the field with her father's team. 

“It’ll ease with time. But I’ll keep reminding you, we’ll all keep reminding you that you have earned your place here. We don’t keep you around because of him. We need you here because of who you are.” 

-

His words played in her mind every time she boarded a Quinjet, like a mantra. And eventually, it did ease. Caroline stopped feeling as though she was trying to fit into her fathers metaphorical too-big boots. Because she wore her own. And they fit just right.

[urflowersdied]

junebug

Long time no see! I’ve had a really rough past few months regarding finding the motivation and creativity to write, but I’ve been really wanting to get back into it. I wrote this piece in January of last year - 2019 - but left it to rot in my Google Drive... It’s not the best piece of writing, I’d say, but I feel the need to just put it up so that I hopefully can move on and post a more recent piece of writing soon-ish. Quarantine is boring me to the brink. Hope you’re all well and can get some enjoyment out of this! x

He had never cared for an animal on his own before, but Harry was convinced that every pet owner gained some sort of extrasensory perception - or rather, a sixth sense - upon deciding to house a little creature. With previous family cats, or even the hamster that his sister had convinced their parents to adopt when he was about 4 years old, his mother had handled all of the arising problems herself, usually trying to keep her children out of the sad aspects of living with a pet. Therefore, 23-year-old Harry didn’t have any pre-existing experience with spotting illness in animals, yet when he woke up one morning and saw Juniper - his little Jack Russell Terrier - not already impatiently sitting by her bowl, tail wagging about, that he sensed something was... off.

Now, two days later and Juniper still refusing to move about more than absolutely necessary (usually she would join him on his morning runs, zoom around his apartment after tennis balls and properly beg him to take her on another walk when he got in from lectures and classes), an immensely worried Harry knew he had to take action. The only issue was that veterinarian visits weren’t exactly easily affordable on a student budget. Sure, he could always contact his mother and request a little support, but he was well aware of her current financial situation and had previously made the decision to help her out rather than ask for money.

It seemed as though the stars aligned for him when he brought up his struggles to Adam, who often spared him an ear to let him vent about various issues. He had been Harry’s friend ever since they found themselves seated next to each other in the introductory lecture to their Psychology degree. In their two and a half years of friendship Adam had offered lots of (sometimes unsolicited) advice to Harry, which had rarely been useful. But this time around, Adam’s proposition might have the actual potential of leading towards a useful solution for his problem.

“Do you remember that girl David used to date? I think…. Emelie? Erica? Can’t really remember. Anyways, one time at pre-drinks I got into conversation with her - wanted to know who was silly enough to go out with that git. She told me she was studying to become a vet! Can you believe? She seemed really smart so I don’t really know what she was doing with… Not that important, actually. Few weeks later Sarah’s cat wasn’t feeling great and apparently she came by to do a check-up for free. Think I’d be able to get you her number if you wanna give that a shot!”

So here he was, stood in his kitchen at 7 am, waiting for this vet student to reply to the text message he’d sent her. Turns out Adam got the name wrong during their conversation and apparently she was actually called Emma, but that wasn’t really of any importance to him. What was important, instead, was that she would get back to Harry as quickly as possible. He was eyeing his little pup nervously, having just spent an exhausting night alongside her, and even though he knew it wasn’t really proper etiquette to contact someone before at least 8 in the morning, he really couldn’t help himself. Hopefully this Emma would be able to fulfill the high praises Adam, and upon inquiry their friend Sarah as well, had sung about her.

It seemed as though she was off to a good start, because no more than 10 minutes later he was alerted of a new text message through the bell-noise of his phone. Harry had been crouched next to Juniper, who seemed to currently prefer residing in the dog bed he had placed in the living room, but quickly shot up and slid towards the device on the kitchen counter.

“Hello Harry! Yes, this is Emma! I could come by and take a look at your pup after classes, which would be around 5. Would that work for you? I don’t want to promise that I’ll be able to do much, but I can definitely tell you what other steps you should take. Send me your address and let me know if that time works for you! x Emma”

_______________________________________________

The light succession of knocks on his front door startled Harry. He had gotten in about an hour ago, after attending two lectures which he hadn’t completely focused on. While waiting for who he was hoping he would dub “saviour” by the end of her visit Harry had busied himself with cleaning the place up and doting on his poor doggo.

As he pulled the door open, some information lodged itself into place in his head. How could he have not made the link before? She had attended some pre-drinks and various night out’s on the arm of David, a tosser that was - sadly, really - the roommate of one of Harry’s better friends. He had never been fond of David, but remembers the moment distinctly in which he had laid eyes upon this girl now standing in front of him.

Remembers how his heart had beaten a little faster, because she truly looked like the sweetest girl around. Remembers how she had shot everyone the kindest smile as she was being introduced. Remembers how he had been convinced she must be mad and incredibly naive, for he knew no other reason why she would hang around his asshole acquaintance.

“Oh, hi! I figured it was you, but wasn’t entirely sure!” Her voice pulled Harry out of his little daydream. He felt a little taken aback, but reciprocated her enthusiastic smile and tone of voice while greeting her.

“Hey! What a surprise, didn’t know you were studying to be a vet. Thank you for stopping by, Emma.”

She toed off her shoes, discarded her winter jacket on the coat rack by the door and turned back towards him. He pretended to not notice the small once-over she gave him, for the sake of not making her uncomfortable before she just did him and his dog a huge favour. “So, where’s your pup? Juniper, is it?” Harry immediately led her towards the living room. Upon catching sight of the miserable looking animal, Emma, seemingly not being able to hold back, let out a tiny coo and immediately moved towards her.

“I’m honestly not really sure what happened. One day she was fine, coming on runs with me and going ballistic in the flat and then the next she was barely able to get up. I’ve never really cared for a dog myself before so I didn’t really know if she was just in a mood or hurt, but her situation didn’t really improve so…” Harry trailed off, keeping his eyes fixed on his dog as Emma lowered herself to the ground. The extreme amount of nervous energy coursing through his body almost made him want to chuckle. If this was how badly an ill dog affected him, how would he be able to deal with his own children in the future?

Hovering a hand over the dog’s head, Emma addressed Harry. “Are you alright with me touching her?” The young man hummed in agreement, willing to do just about everything at this point. “As I already mentioned in my text, I can’t really promise I’m gonna be able to help. I also just wanna let you know that I’ve obviously not finished my degree yet, so I’m not a legit veterinary yet. So I really need you to be aware of that. I won’t do anything that I’m not one hundred percent sure of, but I can definitely give you an assessment of her situation, at the very least.”

Harry was aware of this. It was also the information that his friend Sarah had given him. Emma was still at university, therefore not a licensed vet yet, but apparently extremely careful and trustworthy. And because taking at least a look at some other student’s sick animals was a great way to put all her training into practice, she did these sort of check ups for free. He appreciated Emma’s reiteration of this disclaimer though, and immediately let her know that he was alright with the situation.

And to be honest, had he not previously been made aware that she was still in the process of getting her degree, he probably would not have noticed any difference between her and the fully fledged veterinarian that had come round to his mother’s house a few times when he was younger. Emma had an extremely calm aura surrounding her, which put Juniper - who had been jittery every time Harry approached her - at ease quite quickly.

The next few moments introduced a concentrated silence to Harry’s living room. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself as her hands softly reached out towards different parts of Juniper’s little body, so he started gnawing on his lips and continuously shifting his weight from one leg onto the other and back. This seemed to amuse the girl on his living room floor, because she took a second to let her gaze move from the intense focus on the animal towards its agitated owner. “How about you sit down on the couch? Think you being stationary might help calm the pup down a little bit.”

So that’s what Harry did. Took a seat on the cushioning and waited for any potential questions he knew she was bound to ask him. When Emma spoke up after a few more moments, the questions she asked seemed pretty standard to him. How old was Juniper? What did she weigh? How often would he usually take her out on a walk? Did she still eat like usually? What was her behaviour like when she wasn’t feeling poorly? He answered every question she posed to the best of his abilities, but couldn’t really help and inquire himself after a while: “What do you reckon is the problem, then?”

She gracefully angled her body towards Harry’s sitting form. That was something he had been noticing the entire time she had conducted the little examination - Emma exuded grace and tranquility. She had only directed the most delicate of touches and softest words towards Juniper, and even though she had not made any sort of body contact with Harry, he had also felt immensely soothed simply by her presence. He wondered if that was just her natural demeanor or a way of handling herself she had acquired during her veterinary training. “From what you’ve been telling me about her being really energetic and playful usually, just like any Jack Russell Terrier really, I’d say it’s very likely she had some zoomies and hurt herself during. Looks and feels to me like there’s a little issue in the back of her vertebrae.”

Emma’s explanation made a lot of sense to Harry. Juniper was a very lively dog and often had little bursts of energy that she released by dashing in and out of every room in his small flat, jumping on various pieces of furniture and gliding around the wooden floors. It was likely that she had been a little overzealous and one point and gotten herself hurt without him noticing, even though that made him feel a little inadequate as a pet owner. “And… so… what happens now?”

With a few light pats on the top of Juniper’s head Emma parted from the animal and got back on her feet. “Well… Gotta be honest here, I don’t feel comfortable doing an osteopathic procedure on my own because I haven’t really mastered that training yet, but you’re in luck.” Harry motioned for her to follow him and the two of them stepped into the kitchen. He wanted to let his dog rest a little bit, and because he was sure animals understood the human language more than they let on, he located their conversation about her health to another room. “My dad’s got an animal osteopathy clinic up in Manchester. He’s supposed to be coming down to London for dinner tomorrow anyway, so if I butter him up well enough he’d probably be happy to take a detour before that and do a little session on Juniper.” After taking a little glance at Harry’s increasingly worried face - because he hadn’t ever really been aware that there were osteopaths specialised in animal care and also would any of this this hurt his pup even more? - Emma quickly added: “And don’t worry about paying him. He owes me a favour for helping out in the clinic for free during busy weekends.”

Harry hadn’t planned to tear up, he really hadn’t. Such a reaction wasn’t usually in the cards for him - sure, compared to his friends he was quite the emotional fella, but he was studying to be a psychologist and usually had his wits about him - but the gratitude he felt towards this tiny helper, who had just randomly appeared in his and his dog’s life, was indescribable. Here stood this gentle young woman, who had made time in her probably super busy and hectic student schedule to take a closer look at his dog because he struggled to afford a real vet visit, and who had miraculously calmed Juniper, who had been nervous and in pain, down seemingly by just entering the building, and now she was offering him her dad’s osteopathic services, also free of charge? How could he possibly hold it together in the face of such kindness?

Apparently, his depiction of emotion was a little surprising to Emma. With widened eyes she observed as he tried to get a grip, seemingly not really knowing how to approach this man who she had only spoken to a couple of brief times.”Sorry, sorry. That’s… Yeah, that’d be amazing. I’ve just been really stressed about this and you’re being really nice and just… thank you, really. Sorry.” Harry shot her an appreciative smile while willing the moisture in his eyes to subside quicker.

Catching a glimpse of the digital clock on his microwave, Emma let out a surprised noise and made a move towards the front door. “You’re alright, don’t worry about it. I’ll text you early tomorrow to figure out what time would be good for you, yeah? I’ve got to dash now, though. Got a paper to finish for this class of mine”, she said as she tucked her feet back into the black boots she had entered his flat in.

The last thing she said to Harry as they parted ways for the night made his cheeks light up with a rosy glow. Because he really had tried to clean his living space up well enough before she arrived earlier, wanting to seem put-together and rational for this (as he then had believed) stranger. It seemed as though he either hadn’t done a good enough job or Emma had, in addition to all of her other attributes he had taken notice of, a keen eye for observations. “Oh yeah, I think it’s super endearing that you’re willing to sleep on your couch to make her more comfortable. You seem like a great owner, don’t stress about it.”

________________________________________________

The shrieking laughter of his friends still reached Harry, even as he distanced himself from them and closed the door that connected Adam’s living room to his kitchen. He hadn’t really been in the mood to get hammered tonight, much less to make an appearance at some random bloke’s birthday party, but here he stood anyways. Already empty wine glass in his left hand, waiting for everyone’s intoxication levels to rise so that they could make their way out. The sooner Harry and his mates got to that celebration, the sooner it would be acceptable for him to duck out and return to the safe, warm, and especially calm confines of his flat.

Harry really didn’t pay attention to his surroundings as he was scavenging various shelves for the bottle of wine Adam had shooed him off of the comfortable armchair for. Adam was always a keen but awful host. He didn’t have any quarrels about their group of friends hanging out at his little apartment, but would make everyone else in attendance tend to any arising hosting duties - like sticking your head into the deep unknown of his cluttered cupboards to locate a new bottle of red. When a charming giggle erupted from behind him, a startled Harry turned around immediately. As his gaze fell upon his current favorite person in the world - yes, he was aware that he had a knack for dramatising - the alarmed heartbeat in his chest declined towards a way slower thud. “Don’t scare me like that.” He raised his hand to his chest theatrically in an attempt to garner a repeat of that wonderfully melodic giggle, and succeeded. After a few short seconds of exchanging glances and smiles, a thought crossed his mind: “Not to sound rude, but what are you doing here?”

Emma took a step closer to him and grabbed one of the long-stemmed wine glasses that had been placed on the kitchen counter by Sarah earlier in the evening. “Honestly, not completely sure. Adam - he’s your friend, right? - texted me out of the blue and so did Sarah. Said that even though I’m, and I quote, ‘thankfully’ not seeing David anymore I’m still invited to hang out with the gang so… Here I am, I guess.” The bright smile which appeared on her face was almost enough to lessen the annoyance rising up Harry’s throat. Almost.

No matter how hard he tried to keep mum, the endeared exclamations about his new acquaintance just broke past the barrier his lips had tried to keep aloft. Sitting in another early morning lecture, Adam had asked how the meeting with “little miss doctor” had gone - because of course that nosy shit was going to pester him about it - and Harry just… erupted. Had entertained his friend’s digs for information and explained how much of a calming effect the vet-in-training had supplied not only to his dog but him as well. How (pleasantly) surprised he had been to learn that he actually kind of knew the woman that appeared by his front door. And Harry didn’t really regret bringing Adam up to speed on that first meeting - he had arranged it, had he not? -, but rather he was embarrassed by his retelling of the following evening.

Emma and her dad had knocked on his door shortly after 6, excuses spilling from the woman’s lips about her class had run late and the older man slightly eyeing up Harry from behind his daughter’s body blocking the doorway. After a few initial moments of awkwardness, which Harry wasn’t really sure of why they had arisen, the trio moved towards Juniper’s sleepy figure, still located in the living room.

While her father went to work on his new patient - and now Harry was aware from whom the girl standing next to him had inherited her vast amount of calmness - Emma turned towards its owner. “She’ll be back to knocking into all your furniture during her zoomies in no time.” And man, had Harry felt assured by these softly spoken words.

During the whole procedure Harry fought a little battle in his mind. He didn’t really know this girl at all, did he? Hadn’t interacted much with Emma other than run-ins with her latched onto David’s arm - he had thought about that relationship quite a lot the previous night and he really could not come to a logical conclusion as to how that had established itself, but he was grateful that she seemed to have seen the light and dumped him a while back - and her visit to his sick dog which had taken place a mere 25 hours back. Yet she had displayed such an openness to him, that he just felt incredibly indebted to her.

He had wanted to repay her in some way, and perhaps selfishly use that opportunity to spend more time in her enchanting presence, but with her father there he could not find the right words to extend her a casual dinner invitation. And exactly this sentiment had Harry really hung up when he described the events of the past two days to Adam. Harry had wanted to ask Emma out, but in the end just couldn’t gather up the courage and he felt his chance had now passed. Juniper felt a lot better and there was no need to seek Emma’s veterinary advice.

Turns out, Harry’s friends weren’t as complacent as him and had decided to take matters into their own hands, inviting her to their get-together not purely out of kindness but also to create another opportunity for their friend to get off his arse and ask the sweet girl out already. And Harry was grateful, for sure, he just wasn’t prepared. He would have appreciated a little head’s up.

As it currently stood though, the evening was shaping itself up to becoming intriguing.

[walkonwalkonwithhopeinyourheart]

[OC] A quick scouting report on our new signing - Takumi Minamino via /r/LiverpoolFC

[OC] A quick scouting report on our new signing - Takumi Minamino

I want to preface by saying that it took me some time to actually find time to write this quick scouting report lol but to also watch several matches because I wanted to put something out that is accurate. Its actually really hard to find videos and statistics of Minamino's because the Austrian Bundesliga actually don't even track advanced stats aside from goals and assists. Of course I'm not an expert or anything so take everything with a grain of salt.

Positional Fit

I guess we should start with just exactly how he will fit with our team. I've seen a quite few questions asking about exactly what position he will play etc.

This season so far, Salzburg has lined up in a 4-4-2 diamond, flat 4-4-2, 4-2-3-1, and a 5-3-2. And in each of these lineups, Minamino has lined up as a RM/RW, CM and a traditional number 10 who plays right underneath the striker.

Minamino's versatility is a big plus because looking at the system we play in, he's able to slot in a variety of positions. In our bread and butter, 4-3-3, he can slot in as a CM or in the wing positions. When we switch to a 4-2-3-1 at times during a match, he can slot in as the CAM or RM. In a 4-4-2, he fits perfectly as a RM/RW.

I would like to point out that although technically he never played as a LM/LW, imo I think this is a position he is able to play as well. Salzburg never used him in that position because of Szobalszlai who is a strictly LM so it forced Mina to play more in the centre or right. However, during matches you will see that Minamino really can roam anywhere in Salzburg's system and can do the same for us.

Obviously no one really expects him to be a starter for us and I'm sure thats something he considered and is okay with too. With the sheer amount of matches we're playing this season, combined with our ambitions to win everyone of them - there will be plenty of matches in which he comes on a substitutue and matches where he can start.

Can he play as a false nine?

This is a common question and notion that I see often in this sub, and imo I'm not sure whether he can or cannot. On one hand, he has certain qualities that can help him excel in that role (which I will mention a little later) but I also feel like the false nine role is such a unique position that you cant just put a good midfielder in and expect him to excel. Bobby's hold up play, underrated strength and absurd IQ is really hard to replicate. But I'm not here to act like Ik everything so thats something we'll have to see in the season but I do have my reservations.

Strengths

Home vs Liverpool

Away vs Genk

Away vs Napoli

These are just the three last UCL games he's played in and his respective heatmaps for each. If a player is going to excel on this team, before any technical ability, before any skills or goals; the work-rate, the engine must be there and Minamino has it.

He is quite literally all over the pitch and watching him on film, he runs around like an animal pressing and harrying players. He averages 2.5 interceptions per 90 for Salzburg and tt helps that Salzburg is a team that emphasizes a lot of high pressure and quick counter-attack play which Minamino has been excelling in.

On a technical level, he really is exceptional. His touch, passing, and shooting is incredibly sharp and crisp. What I love about him the most is how tidy in possession he is,he has incredibly quick feet and reflexes, almost like the ball is glued to him. Here's a couple of more to enjoy.

Sure, he's skilled and has tekkers but what makes a skilled player an actually good player is vision and IQ. The ability to see space and openings just a half second before the defense can react and it's one of Minamino's biggest strengths. With the quality of forwards we have, its going to be a joy to watch passes like these Man there's so many more but you guys can look at it yourself on Youtube or something. I must say his half-turns are fucking orgasmic. Reminds me so much of Lallana's half turns, I swear they look identical when performing them.

Minamino's quick touches, great link-up play and clever one-two passing along with his ability to put in an accurate cross now and then is extremely valuable in games when we have to break down a Burnley, for example.

And although I hate using assists and goals as a measure of goal output, its worth mentioning that he has scored or assisted a goal every 115 minutes for Salzburg. What that does show me is how intelligent and involved he is in a team's scoring output.

What is often underlooked is how intelligent his runs are and how underrated his off the ball movement is. Now these runs don't always lead to a goal or assist, they seldom do but it puts the defense in a difficult position and opens up spaces for the likes of Haaland and Hwang Salah and Mane.

Weaknesses

It was quite hard to pinpoint any specific weaknesses in his game to be honest, From watching a lot of Asian football, what I notice in Asian footballers is when it comes to the technical aspect of the game, they're very exceptional.

Of course, you have to question if he can handle the transition to the PL. Playing in a much more physical league with less time on the ball and pose some problems for the 5'8, slight build Minamino. But we've seen similar players with that size excel.

Verdict

7.5 million for a player of his quality is more than a steal. Considering he came at that price and the quality that he will bring to our squad is truly amazing. He will bring the necessary depth to a team that will be hounded with fixtures and more than that he brings quality depth.

I think he'll be a great rotational piece and might even play a bigger role in seasons to come if Lallana/Shaqiri depart the club. As a fan I'm super excited because he's a joy to watch but I'm sure Minamino himself is very excited. Klopp can take his game to the next level as evident by similar players to Minamino such as Kagawa and Lallana.

TL;DR: Minamino good.

Submitted December 13, 2019 at 05:25AM by deadassynwa via reddit https://ift.tt/34mf6Fr

[arkus-rhapsode]

My Hero Academia Chapter 208 Review

So this chapter might’ve made a few people a little upset, but others really happy. Well its time to ask if that if any dislike is warranted or was this a good chapter? ...I mean its about Bakugou so that already is a hit or miss with some people. But whatever, I’m going to look at this audience splitting chapter under my critical lense

We open where we left off, with Bakugou having saved Jirou from the ambush by Kamakiri. Also it’s worth noting here that Kamakiri is actually blocking Bakugou’s attack with the blade he had previously grown from his arm and a new one from his leg to form a blocking stance. Its a small detail, but its actually really cool because lets face it, growing blades from you is a pretty bland power. So I do like when Horikoshi does go out of his way to show us the applications of one’s ability regardless of how simple or weird it is.

Also it seems that Bakugou during his rant to his team mentioned he’d protect them if they were targeted. I guess that’s what they were so shocked over in chapter 206′s ending. Also it makes that whole scene of them all doubting him a bit more stronger cause he was acting like something contradictory to what he’d said he’s do.

So Kamakiri retreats and I want to mention this now because I’ll talk about it later, but class 1-B is acknowledging that Bakugou is far too strong in this chapter and that’ll be important.

Also with Monoma freaking out over Bakugou’s character development, it’s important to realize the ones who are standing up for Kirishima, who its pretty expected given how he feels about Bakugou. And Kaminari who in the liscene exam, saved Bakugou and instead of him being indignant, Bakugou helped K.O. Shishikura. Kirishima has acknowledged that Bakugou was capaple of saving people like every potential hero, but this is the first time he really did it to save someone and not for simple victory.

And this is the big crux of this chapter, Bakugou’s development. Its important to note that Bakugou is supposed to be the incarnation of victory as vocalized by Deku. But what’s held him back in things like their first exercise is that he refuses to work together with people. So while he is still strong and managees to beat down whoever he’s fighting, his neglection of teamwork and the point of the purpose of the exerciser always came to set him back. But now, hee’s going to work with his team and is accepting nothing less than a perfect victory.

Though I’m going to be honest, I liked it that class 1-b was the only one with a clean sweep victory because even if they didn’t win the entire day, they’d still have that as a win. But this is Bakugou so he’s gotta not lose a single person or else its “not enough saving...”

We see into what Tokage’s plan was, that they figured that Bakugou is without a doubt thee ace in the hole, and going up against him one-on-one was no option for them. But given his persoanlity and strength, the teeam will follow him and likely get sick of his bullshit if he becomes exacerbated. So they plan on a hit and run strategy very similar to Vegeta vs the androids who keep peaing out every time he started to talk. Y’know... Bakugou is really just a tiny Vegeta now that I think about it.

Also, conspicuous zoom up on Sero shows he’s putting the pieces together with what Tokage’s quirk.

Bakugou follows Bondo only to be ambushed by Awase. Another little sidenote is that Deku comments on his stealth skill, which was something he was very surprised by when he fought Toga-Camie.

Awase binds up Bakugou with his quirk, but Bakugou knows this won’t hold him.

Yep Satou actually works with Bakugou to free him and returns to chasing Awase. I also like to mention that with both Shouji and Satou’s new abilities, ORA ORA ORAing, your opponent counts as a special move.

Awase is getting chased down by Bakugou, so he decides to brace himself with a steel plat welded to his face-That’s dumb! Like I get the idea, but given Bakugou’s strength level, there is no doubt he could dent that metal similar to Kendou. And putting that right up to your face just seems bad stupid.

Well, Bakugou doesn’t actually take this chance to punch him, instead he propels himself up and...

Sero and Jirou showed up and Bakugou even acknowledged that they could help him. Which is making me really question why they freaked out when they heard his strategy. Seems pretty balanced, for Bakugou I mean. Jirou takes out Awase by giving him a blast of surround sound. Proably has lost his hearing for a good time too.

Anyway, Bakugou caught up with Bondo and as you can probably guess,  glue doesn’t fair too well against explosions.

So Awase and Bondo are captured and Monoma doesn’t seem to understand how Bakugou “mellowed out.” well here’s the thing, Bakugou is still an angry and easy to agitate person, but he’s not mean spirited in his anger. Most of his anger is a feature rather than say, him in chapter one where he condescended down to his entire class and told Deku to kill himself. He still gets mad, but as a person he’s become better. Its also important to realize that he too, is trying to be number one hero, and he won’t fall behind Deku, so if the only thing stopping him from getting that license was saving people, then he’ll adapt. He’ll learn how to save others. And he isn’t like Momo who’s hang up is persistent throughout the series, Bakugou is someone for as shitty as he can act, is a prodigy, so when he applies himself, he is that much  better and quicker at learning.

Now Tokage says that the plan was basically Bakugou leads and the others would follow, but then find that moment of them following, and then break them down without Bakugou’s help. But the team is compensating for being “perfect.” But I have to disagree with that. The team isn’t perfect, so much as they are capable of acting on their own. An important difference that was brought up between the classes last chapter was how organized class 1-b is compared to 1a. But that has its own issue with the fact that class 1-b is so organized by their leader that they are basically all pieces on a board being moved around. Kendou’s team did exactly as she said and by doing so they had set up a strategy they had their victory ensured. Honenuki’s team followed what he was saying, but then when Pony was left standing, she had to come up with her own strategy after her leader lost. As we see in this fight, Tokage’s plan and organization isn’t bad, but it wasn’t capable of thinking that her opponents would act in such a way.

So there is both good and bad to having an organized team, like Kendou’s when the strategy works out or with Tokage who we will see made a bad call and is now suffering not being able to recover from it. Basically, its not that team Bakugou is so good, its more, Tokage came up with a bad plan.

(Also Bakugou looks like Kamakiri in that panel and I’m upset that we don’t get enough interaction off of them.)

We get a really cool set of panels where Sero figures out Tokage’s quirk while Kamakiri and Bakugou fight. Sero deduces that Tokage needs to regenerate after cutting her body up as we’ve been seeing with her reforming above the the battlefield.

Kamakiri loses and thus this battl would be over if they took the now defeated Kamakiri to jail, but Bakugou wants his perfect with and is going after Tokage.

We see in a flash back that Bakugou gave his team gernades and now I’m just going to say this, I wish we had a whole fucking flash back because a lot of this is seeming like a lot of narrative convenience. Also unlike Buggy, Tokage can’t pull off a chop-chop quick escape. (Also, did Sero blow up a chunk of her body? Maybe he really is the villain here?)

Bakugou then ambushes Tokage and then...

...It’s over. And while I do enjoy Bakugou’s line here, I’m pretty sure people are upset at this loss for Tokage. Well, here’s where I double down on my claim from a few weeks ago, this was going to be the least important fight in terms of fighting. And I was right. This fight wasn’t about the clash between Bakugou and Tokage, this match was about Bakugou’s growth as a character. Thus meaning the Class 1-b team is basically a group of jobbers that exist as an obstecle to overcome rather than characters. Now there’s nothing wrong with that.

I had pointed out how each B team up till now had at least one member we wer familiar left and thus they were the one who got to show off the most and develop more, with their teammates getting a chance to actually reveal their personalities (In the case of team Honenuki we actually ad two characters who did that). But team Tokage, at best had Awase, but nothing else we really knew about them, so it made sense that this wasn’t going to be about them.

However, Horikoshi then had to tacked on Tokage that sh was a recommendation student as to give Class 1-b’s team some menace. But unlike Honenuki, we didn’t know that beforehand, so it really just comes off as added hype right before her loss, so you care more. So I think some people thought that she was going to be a lot more hot shit than she actually got to be.

Now the question I posed was do I agree with this, well here’s where I say I’ll talk about that in the post chapter follow up, and now we must all get ready for Deku vs Monoma. Which I’m very worried about because its now 2-1 and if 1-a wins then it’ll be 3-1 which makes them look like jackasses and their hype was pointless, but if its B who wins then its 2-2 and that feels incredibly unsatisfying. See your now seeing why I wasn’t a fan of Todoroki and Honenuki being a draw.

Post chapter follow up: This is a very confused chapter where its honestly hard to call it good or bad. Now as I said, I did predict that this was going to be unimportant for Class 1-b and thus I’m not disappointed at all with team Tokage’s loss. I’m sure people will say Bakugou shouldn’t be able to to defeat a recommendation student. Well here’s the thing, recommendation isn’t about power, its more quirk based potential. This isn’t like S-class mage in FT or Captain in Black Clover where these people are literally in a different league. These are just kids who happen to have greater powers than others.

Now I wanna give major credit where credit is due, and that is the character of this fight. Bakugou’s character growth is what this was all about and thus, its a good thing to see him develop so quickly as opposed to someone like Momo who has yet to get over their mental hurdle. Now as we saw last week Bakugou still has a way to go with how he saves as we saw with him kicking Jirou out of the way, which is something I don’t think All Might would ever do. SO while he’s got the concept of saving down, he might need to fine tune it.

Also it was cool to really see Sero get a good moment in this round. Its important to note that Sero is actually very smart and analytical. Not to the point of Deku or Iida, but he has been shown that he is of an above average intellect. And while Jirou was mostly recon that didn’t work out, it was cool to see her use her support items. And Satou... Punched stuff...

I think that the development of the character really are a good thing for the character of Bakugou rather than the actual combat as opposed to something like Yuno vs Rill in Black Clover, where it was more about just how strong Yuno is now a opposed to his character growth. And I’ll take a stronger character over a stronger fighter story. Now this an arc based on combat so, I’m still critical of it, and the combat in this fight is pretty unimpressive.

Now for the negatives and my biggest frustration was the pacing this chapter. It feels like so much was condensed into a single chapter. I get maybe there might’ve not been enough for two chapters and that this is supposed to be about Bakugou more than anything else, but defeating 4 people and getting moments from the other 1-A kids feels so rushed. Like if I had to, I’d split this up  as this chapter is just beating Bondo and Awase, then next chapter we get like a prolonged fight of Kamakiri vs Bakugou and taking out Tokage as she realizes  how bad she messed up.

There’s also the issue of the flash back or lack there of, and it feels so much like Horikoshi is just making shit up from their strategy meeting to fit the fight, but its so clunky. I guess this method allows him to do that, but It just feels so convenient, like impossibly convenient. So if Im going pick on Hiro for narrative convenience, I’m going give Hori the same treatment.

So was this a good chapter? I think that it’s good in terms of storytelling, but its understandably not going to attract or seem as appealing to many from a fight perspective. Or those who have been really trying get hyped on class 1-b. And as I mentioned, there are narrative issues in this fight, so its not completely exempt from criticism. Which Is why I think my final verdict is the best I can give something like this.

Final Verdict: 6/10

It’s above average in terms of story and character, but it is till messy in some points. What with the easy to jobber characters and to massive compressed storytelling

Amazing character development on Bakugou’s quest for No. 1

Ultimately stale action

Good story is there, though it feels rushed in terms of pacing

[boyfriend-kisser]

“Stark’s Shadow” Fanfic/Oneshot/Headcanon thing I wrote?

Characters: Tony Stark and a daughter character I made up ‘cause Morgan didn’t exist yet. JARVIS is also there.

Summary: Tony Stark and his daughter Avery have the dream father-daughter relationship. After starting early at MIT, just like her father, Tony notices that something seems wrong with Avery, and the answer surprises him a little. Avery’s birthday’s in a few days, so Tony decides to show her present early to cheer her up.

Warnings: Nothing super intense - there’s a bit of angst. Mentions of Tony being promiscuous in the past.

Important notes about this Marvel AU I have in my brain: - IW/Endgame haven’t and won’t happen.  - Pepper and Tony got together, but not for a very long time. Pepper left Tony completely shortly after the events of Ironman 3 - Tony didn’t destroy his Iron legion nor did he have his arc reactor heart removed - I made up something called the “New Avengers” project just for the hell of it but I feel like it’s explained well enough

Author’s Note: Idk this was just an idea dump that I kinda fell in love with so I hope you guys enjoy? Lmk if you want me to write more? Feedback’s appreciated? ALSO - I WROTE THIS BEFORE ENDGAME HIT. THAT’S WHY I DIDN’T JUST USE AN OLDER VERSION OF MORGAN OR WHATEVER. I WROTE THIS TO HELP MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH THE EVENTS OF INFINITY WAR AND I’Ve evidently picked it up again to help myself through Endgame so enjoy?

Tony sat in his living room, tinkering with a new, prototype helmet as he waited for the door to open. The house was quiet, nothing but the sound of the fountain in the entrance hall, metallic clicks and clangs from the project Tony was working on, and the constant quiet whirring of the thousands of machines in the Stark building was to be heard. Soon enough, Tony heard a new sound, a modern doorbell and JARVIS’s voice alerting him that his daughter had arrived home, just on time. Tony stood up with a huge smile, and went into the entrance hall, welcoming his child home with a small “Hey, kid.”

Avery glanced up at her father and gave him a small smile. Still, Tony noticed that her green eyes were missing their normal sparkle, and her usually confident stride was replaced with that of a heartbroken child.

“Hey, dad,” she replied in a voice near silence, before trying to casually trudge away. Tony stopped her by quickly stepping into her path and putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Wait, what’s up?” he asked in a calmer tone, suddenly worried for his young prodigy. He knelt down as to look up into her eyes. Avery took a long breath in, and was silent for a second, before grinning and shrugging.

“Nothing, dad. I’m tired is all – first month at MIT is way different from what I’m used to, y’know?” she laughed.

Tony knew his daughter was lying, but he still gave her shoulder a squeeze and smiled back, saying “You worried me there for a second, thought you were about to tell me it’s too easy for you... Or that you miss my lectures.”

“It’s not too easy,” Avery said, blushing embarrassedly and wiping her dad’s hand from her shoulder, “and I’m having a great time in real lectures with other... People.”

Tony laughed and stood up, “It’s okay to admit it, it was easy for me too.”

She seemed to falter for a minute, and looked like she was about to say something but stopped. She shook it off and gave him one last grin before starting back off to her room.

“I’ll be working so if you need me, just let JARVIS know!” Tony called as he went toward the stairs down to his lab, picking up the helmet he’d been working on on his way down.

Once he got down there, he collapsed into one of his seats. Something was VERY wrong with Avery, and for once – Tony didn’t know how to fix it. He looked at a series of pictures on his desk – one was from last year, a thirteen-year-old Avery wearing a party hat posing with the Avengers (also wearing party hats on top of their costumes) and a poster in the background with the words “HAPPY BIRTHDAY AVERY!” written across it in huge letters. Beside it was a picture of Tony and his daughter dancing at one of the many red carpet events they went to together. She was only ten and standing on her dad’s feet as they danced among all the adults. Another photo showed a seven-year-old Avery wearing an extremely oversized Iron-man helmet while sitting on Tony’s shoulders, Tony being in a full Iron-man suit, save the helmet. The final photo was of him holding his newborn baby with none other than Pepper Potts holding the child’s hand. Pepper had left when Avery was incredibly young, and Tony had been left to raise his daughter alone. Avery was the only girl in his life – and Tony discovered that that’s all he really needed. The pair were inseparable. Recently, however, Avery’s been different. She’s been more distant ever since she started her early scholarship at MIT. Tony had just been assuming it was a boy and that she’d tell him when she was ready, but he’d been getting more and more unsure as days turned to weeks. What had happened?

He slammed the photo of Pepper's face down on the table as JARVIS’s voice cut through his reminiscing.

“Sorry sir, but Avery’s having something of a breakdown – one to rival even your worst moments. Most of the smashing has calmed down, but the crying has not subsided no matter how much consolation I offer – she has also requested that I not tell you any of this, but I feel that you’re the only one who can fix her emotional state.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “What makes you think that?”

“Well, bec-” JARVIS started, but Tony was already standing up.

“Save it. Just give us some privacy for a second, would you?”

JARVIS fell silent, and Tony began the slow walk upstairs to his daughter’s room.

Tony stood outside of Avery’s door and took a deep breath before knocking.

“Avery?” he asked. There was no response.

He slowly opened the door to see Avery laying on her bed facing the ceiling, with one hand draped across her waist and the other by her side. She took no notice of her dad. School supplies and various other items lay scattered and broken around the room. Tony carefully stepped over everything and gently lay down beside his daughter, facing the ceiling with his hands clasped together over his waist. Avery made no objection.

The pair lay in silence for a while, before Tony sighed.

“What’s his name?” he asked, turning his head to look at Avery. Avery continued to stare at the ceiling, but Tony saw a puzzled look cross her face.

“Whose name?” she murmured.

“The boy,” Tony replied.

“Which boy?”

Tony sighed again, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes as he tried to think of the best way to approach this. He accidentally whispered his private thoughts aloud, saying:

“This was meant to be Pepper’s job.”

“Well Pepper isn’t here,” Avery shot back, bitterly.

“That’s MOM to you,” Tony responded sharply without thinking, before quickly relaxing again.

“That’s Miss Potts to you.”

Tony was quiet for a second, before trying again.

“Look, just tell me which boy is giving you trouble – I want to help you, you know I do but-”

“Anthony,” Avery suddenly said, “his name’s Anthony. Anthony Stark.”

Tony was taken aback.

“You’re mad at me?” he asked, quietly. Avery sat up and hugged her knees into her chest, Tony rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow. His daughter still refused to make eye contact with him, but he didn’t look away from her.

“I don’t know,” she started, “I’m not MAD I’m just... tired. I’m smart, I know I am, but it’s getting harder and harder to fill your shoes, dad,” Avery finally confided. She threw her hands in the air and slumped back down to her original position.

“Everywhere I go on campus, there’ll be a plaque or a trophy or an awards board with your name or picture on it! Everybody holds even higher expectations from me because I’m YOUR daughter. Hell, half of the teachers there remember when you were their student and the other half were students that you banged back when you were there and now they’re PROFESSORS! And if that’s not the case, they WANT to be someone who was in that position. Even some of the students in my class have huge crushes on you.”

“Ew,” Tony murmured.

“I know,” Avery said, looking across at her dad for the first time since he came in, “and now I’m questioning my own abilities! Like, if I can’t be just as good as you then I feel like everyone will judge me and I’ll be a huge failure and you’ll... and... and...”

Avery curled up in a ball again without bothering to sit up, and Tony knew she was about to cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he began, putting his free arm around the girl, “I get that you’re probably feeling the pressure, and I’m sorry you had to grow up more or less in my shadow. And I’m sorry that it seems like everyone only knows you through me. I know that it’s scary enough having to get into college before you’re even sixteen, and having everyone be so much older than you and dumber than you is probably tough, but you have to remember that you’re one of the smartest people I know, and in no time at all, you’ll probably surpass even the likes of me.”

“You’re my daughter, Avery. Not only that, you’re my best friend. I want you to know that...” Tony picked his next words very carefully. The words that he’d never heard from his own father.

“I’m proud of you, Avery. I’m so proud to be Tony Stark, father of Avery Stark. I love you so much, and I know you’re going to do great things. So great that one day I’ll be a footnote in your successes. First, you just need to get through this, and you’ll be on your way.”

Avery was sobbing at this point. She let go of her knees and wrapped her arms around her dad, burying her face in his chest and resting her head against the softly glowing arc reactor. Tony hugged her tightly with one arm, before slowly laying himself down properly and wrapping his other arm around the small girl as well. Memories flooded back of all the times she’d cried over the years and Tony would have to hold her till she felt better. Memories of him coming back after fighting and her clinging to him like she hadn’t seen him for years. He took a deep breath and let his eyes close, drowning himself in those memories. He thought back to when Pepper had first left and he was alone with a tiny Avery, her childish innocence and happiness contrasting to his immeasurable pain. Her obliviousness to their situation had helped Tony pull himself back together and become the father she needed. He tightened his grip, fragments of memories of him soothing her nightmares, her laughing and giggling and lighting up even his worst days played through his mind. He was so grateful for her. She meant the entire world to him and more. 

Slowly but surely, she was calming down. Sure, she still hiding her face in his chest, but he could tell.

“Hey, you want to go for a trip?” Tony asked quietly after Avery’s sobs had turned to sniffles.

“Wh-where?” Avery asked, looking up at her dad with tear-stained eyes.

Tony bit his lip, before gently unravelling himself from the hug and standing up.

“Flying,” he said, nonchalantly.

“But, isn’t 48 damaged?” Avery muttered, confused.

Because Tony’s newest suit, mark XLVIII, was made of nanobot technology, it was the only suit he had that could fit Avery due to her height and figure. Normally when they went out, he’d use an older suit and let her use Bleeding Edge – but today he had a better plan. Instead of making more nanobots for his broken armour, he’d been busy setting up something else.

Tony bit his lip before grinning excitedly

“I’ve got to show you something,” he said, holding his hand out to Avery. Avery sat up on the bed and swung her legs over the edge. She looked at her dad’s outstretched hand, then at him, and snorted. She lightly bat his hand away. And he quickly straightened his jacket, clearing his throat.

“That’s not the first time I’ve been horribly rejected by a woman,” he said, looking away and pretending to sniffle. Avery rolled her eyes and stood up.

“What do you want to show me?” she asked slyly.

“It’s in the lab,” Tony said. Avery nodded, before bolting to the door.

“LAST ONE TO THE LAB IS DOCTOR STRANGE!” she laughed.

Tony immediately chased her out of the room and down the hall, but he was no match for her, as she’d already hit the staircase before he had even made it to the living room.

“JARVIS! STOP AVERY FROM GETTING INTO THE LAB BEFORE ME!” he yelled, loud enough for Avery to hear.

“Certainly, sir,” JARVIS replied, and almost immediately, Tony heard Avery screaming. He laughed as he slowed to a walk, and as he got to the bottom of the stairs, he saw his Mark XLVI suit of armour, hovering above the ground.

“Sorry, kid. It’s called parenting,” he grinned at the armour.

“Screw you, dad. You just didn’t want to be Doctor Stephen,” came Avery’s voice from inside, “also, you’ve really got to clean this suit. It smells like blood, sweat, tears and piss.”

“Guess what it’s full of, kid. And hey – language.”

Tony knocked on the chest and the suit opened up, a slightly startled Avery fell out, but Tony caught her, and set her down.

“That’s disgusting, Uncle Steve.” Avery rolled her eyes at her dad, who snorted.

The suit dropped to the ground and walked itself back into its display case, where it powered down.

"Look at you, not letting Cap forget dumb things he said that you didn't even witness. You really are my daughter," Tony murmured.

"Judging by your history, I'd be less surprised to find out Pepper Potts isn't my mother," Avery shot back with a small smile, “you got around so much that I’m sure the laws of biology could’ve been broken.”

"Hey," Tony began, trying to hide his smile as he held up a disapproving finger, "first of all, your mother is absolutely Pepper Potts. I witnessed your birth in horrible detail. Besides, nobody else would be crazy enough to insist your second name be 'Justice.' Second of all, you know nothing about my past. At all. Too young. I'll tell you when you're 45."

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. That was your self-officiated title, wasn't it?" Avery said, dragging out the word 'playboy'.

Tony cleared his throat, dropped his hands to his sides and stared his daughter in the eye for a moment. She stared back with an evil smirk.

"You know far too much," Tony said, straightening his suit jacket again and shaking his head. Avery simply giggled. Tony quickly moved and stood behind Avery, covering her eyes. She groaned annoyedly.

“Really, dad?”

“It’s a surprise, honey. Relax.”

Tony lead his daughter into the lab, and noticed that the “surprise” wasn’t assembled. He let out a sharp whistle.

“JARVIS, please could you assemble the uh, birthday present?” he muttered.

“But sir, Avery’s birthday isn’t for another two days.”

“A birthday present?” Avery murmured.

“Just assemble it, bud,” Tony said to the AI, ignoring Avery’s confusion.

All Avery heard was whirring, whooshing, clicking and clanging.

“You ready?” Tony asked Avery, bending down so he could whisper it in her ear.

“You know I am,” she responded eagerly.

“Happy birthday,” Tony said, moving his hands. Avery clasped her hand over her mouth and gasped. Tears sprung to her eyes as she moved toward the Iron suit in front of her.

It was an exact replica of her father’s Mark XLVIII, but smaller and more feminine.

“It’s the newest nanobot tech, even better than mine – for now. I’ve called it the AVS-I,” Tony smiled as his daughter examined the suit, “stands for Avery Stark – of course.”

Avery was stunned. Never did she think she’d be a REAL part of this aspect of her dad’s life, though she’d always wanted to be.

She tore her eyes away from the armour to look back at her father, who was beaming at her. She wiped a few happy tears and ran at Tony, jumping on him, throwing her arms around his neck and holding on tightly. Tony stumbled a little, but managed to keep his balance as he held his little girl close.

“Thank you so much, dad,” she whispered.

“You’re getting a little bit big for this, you know that?” he murmured, but truthfully he didn’t mind. He laughed as she gripped him tighter. Slowly, he put her back down, Avery’s grip loosened, but something was wrong, so Tony continued to hold her close by the shoulders, looking into her eyes as she stared at the ground looking puzzled for a moment.

“Wait, but what about Riri?” Avery asked, looking back up at her dad.

“Who?” Tony asked, confused. He let go of his daughter and looked around his lab as if it’d give him a hint.

“Riri Williams, sir,” JARVIS cut in, “a brilliant seventeen-year-old girl who was enlisted in the Ironheart program three years ago.”

“Oh, she’s been fired. She failed her final test,” Tony said dismissively, looking back at the armour.

“What’s the Ironheart project? And what was the final test?” Avery asked, shoving her hands in her hoodie pockets and turning her attention back to the armour as well.

“The Ironheart program was SHIELD’s idea,” Tony began, gazing at the suit, “a subdivision of a ��New Avengers’ project. A type of “gifted youths” thing. Taking kids with abnormal abilities and sort of testing their skills to see if they should take SHIELD classes. Riri Williams, fifteen at the time, was above average brilliant. She was enlisted in my subdivision of the program where I’d test her mental capacities to see how good of a mechanic, engineer and scientist she was. She was incredible, true, but she failed to recreate a full suit of functioning Iron-man armour. Plus, she failed in the fact that I didn’t like her much.”

Avery nodded, “I always thought she was meant to be a replacement for me.”

Tony’s gaze didn’t shift from the armour, but he put an arm around her shoulders.

“Never. I didn’t want to use you because I didn’t want you to be in danger.”

Avery looked up at her dad for a second, before looking back at the armour and leaning her head against him.

“I love it,” she whispered, “thank you so much.”

Tony spent a moment in comfortable silence with his daughter. He could tell how happy she was with the gift, and that made him smile.

“Try it on, I want to make sure it doesn’t implode on the wearer,” he grinned, tapping her on the back and nodding towards the armour. Avery smiled widely at him before moving towards the armour.

“JARVIS, enable embarrassing parent mode,” Tony said nonchalantly. Avery shot him a passive-aggressive grin and he simply waved back.

“Cameras are recording, sir,” JARVIS responded immediately.

Avery gingerly touched the armour, before looking back at her dad. He motioned for her to go on, before tapping the centre of his own arc reactor. Avery nodded, took two fingers and double-tapped the dark arc reactor in the centre of the suit. It immediately began to glow and the suit began to dematerialise until only the back half remained. Grinning widely, Avery got into position before stepping backwards into the armour. The nanobots began re-materialising around her, and soon enough she was covered head to toe in her own armour.

The helmet clamped shut over her face and the eyes glowed blue as Avery squealed. Tony felt himself beaming – he was so proud. Avery looked down at her hands, clenched them into fists, twisted them about. Then her feet, she stomped around a little, jumped up and down. She slammed her hands down on her stomach and chest and ran her hands down her shoulders and arms.

She looked up at her dad.

“This is SO cool,” she said – her voice sounded slightly digitalised as it came out.

“Oh, by the way,” Tony began, looking at his nails with a smirk as Avery gazed up at him, curious, “did I mention you can change the colours?”

Avery let out another squeal which quickly turned to laughter.

Tony was looking forward to their first flight.

[djseaward]

expat thoughts on the bake off finale

a bake-off post! in case you still aren't sure what i'm nattering on about, i've been baking along this autumn to the show, the great british bake off (series 9) which just had the finale this week. as i know this series will hit the states several months later, i just want to say: i will mention the winner of this series sometime in the post (spoiler alert!), so if that matters to you, go ahead and skip to my bakes (below) or click out. but something has been rattling around in the old craw about this year's bakers that i just felt like i had to comment on.

i found the finale deeply touching this year, especially all of the scenes with rahul, giving viewers even more background and depth to his story. rahul is one of the three finalists -- he moved to britain eight years before to study for a doctorate degree. rahul is sort of the eeyore of this year's bakers. or maybe more of the piglet. but the point is, he happens to be an extremely endearing and likable person even though he admits the one word to describe him is "depressing", he can't at all handle the judgement, and seems to have a low opinion of his own abilities.

in this week's finale episode, we learn more about his background. we already know that he skypes with his parents back in india every day, but this episode, the contestants get talking about who will be there to support them at the finale garden party that occurs each season. kim joy's partner is coming, ruby's large family will be there, and then we meet rahul's two closest friends-- a couple in sheffield. he thinks of them as family, and it is touching to see how they've supported him in his expat journey to the united kingdom.

see, rahul is an expat. or immigrant; i'm not exactly sure as i don't personally know his intentions with how long he plans to remain in the UK (shorter term or indefinitely), but either case, he finds himself in his eighth year in his new country. his friends, the aforementioned sheffield couple, admit that they encouraged him to get into baking as a way to learn about his adopted culture. and now, here he is, one of the top three (if not the best) amateur baker (of traditional western baked goods!) in britain. can you even imagine the kind of talent and intuition that would take? it is incredible.

rahul says, during one challenge to the camera:

"nobody brought me [to the UK]. i came here myself, because i wanted to."

later, when rahul's name is called as the the winner, my heart just swelled with pride. the camera pans to his sheffield friends, looking at each other wide-eyed. his family, his parents in india weren't present at the party, but he had these sweet friends supporting him. from one expat to another, this entire episode was incredibly touching. rahul made a new life in this country halfway around the world and such sweet friends are supporting him, like family, in this huge success. i couldn’t help but relate it to my own experience -- having such wonderful people supporting us here in our own choice to move to a new country, no family around. it is friends like this that make everything worth it.

rahul holds the glass cake stand as he poses for the cameras and his hands won't stop shaking. "i've never won anything before." he calls his mum and tells her the result.

later after the series, we see that his parents in india finally visit rahul in the UK for the first time. he is shown sitting on the couch with them and his glass cake stand trophy; serving them a british cake in the kitchen. i just lost it. it must have meant so much to him to have his parents realize how important this competition was to him, to britain, to all the viewers around the world. it must be hard to have a child move around the world "because they wanted to". it can be also very difficult for one person, unsponsored, to make it in a new country. and now, rahul is introducing his parents the flavors of britain. it was a beautiful moment.

what an ultimate measure of success! on an expat level, i felt very much for the contestants this year.

now, i can talk about two bakes!

vegan week (week 7) was a breeze for me. i've been cooking vegan recipes for almost a decade and feel pretty confident about it... if i had to give one type of food i am good at cooking, it would be "asian" and vegan. i decided to opt for the signature challenge of the savory tart, which gave me a little problem because even though the vegan category doesn't scare me off, i've never blind-baked a tart before and i couldn't think of anything heat resistant enough to put in it to keep the shell from caving in a bit, which of course, it did.

in the end, i made a roasted red pepper and walnut tart with a coconut oil-based sage spelt crust. the filling was quite delicious and great for a tart -- i think the crust, however, i would choose to make with whole-wheat flour in the future instead of the spelt flour. still, it was full of autumnal flavor. roasted red pepper is almost always a win!

danish week (week 8) was exciting for me, and i was happy to bake my first ever loaf of danish rye, which came out quite nicely. i had to bake it much longer than directed to get the dense middle to finally cook, but i really enjoyed snacking on it throughout the week. it also made me appreciate all the rye bread that we have around here, whether i like it or not. i still prefer the more fluffier american-style bread but now i feel like i can finally eat rye without grimacing inside.

for my two smorrebrod (open-faced sandwiches) that were required in this signature challenge, i made a salmon and medium-boiled egg and spring onion on delicious homemade remoulade, and a "beet tartine" with giant capers (not shown). as the loaf wasn’t very tall, the slices are thin (but good).

the last challenge which i will be tackling this weekend: the world of french patisserie for the semi-final challenge. i can't recall having made french patisserie before, so i'm looking forward at finally trying my hand at it.

have you been watching the show this season? what did you think? curious if any fellow expats had similar feels as i did.

(photo source 1 & 2)

[ganymedesclock]

The promised thoughts inspired by this post is, what it comes down to is I think a lot of people read s3e1 and Lotor’s defeat of Throk alone as his Establishing Character Moment, when, I think what cements Lotor’s personality is that scene, but also, s3e2 and Puig.

Twice, we see Lotor carefully plan, and, with the generals’ backing, execute a preemptive strike. He isolates and defeats his enemy, and then launches his plan, both times using it as a talking point for his own agenda.

The differences, however, stand out.

Throk is a military commander who prides himself in following Zarkon’s dogma. The way he complains about Lotor’s policies tells us about Throk as much as it does about Lotor- Throk can’t conceive letting conquered people self-determine, or fighting alongside his clear subordinates, or employing galra of mixed heritage. He’s proud of the enemies he’s left “wasting on the battlefields” and fully means to do the same to Lotor.

The Puigian leader is an insurgent fighting for the freedom of himself and his people. At his back is a history of slavery. Overwhelmingly, the people of Puig have sparing armaments, no armor, and at that stage, are pretty reliant on their savior, Voltron- because they’re coming from almost nothing. Lotor is terrifying- greeted as an indication of the imperial boot coming back down onto their faces. But even then, the leader is willing to beg him for mercy- not selfishly, but for his people. And the family that Zethrid captured with the net shot had a child among them- so we have a pretty clear picture of who exactly is on the line, and the leader’s mind.

Here’s the thing. Lotor’s handling of Throk is at its core disrespectful. Not only does he push his own agenda- the very thing that Throk was despising- in such a way that the fleet buys into it- he continues to treat Throk as an enemy, but, utterly refusing to grant Throk what he sees as dignified and proper. Lotor won’t even play Throk’s game- so in a sense, sparing him only to demote him to a poor post is an exceptional piece of backhanded assistance. 

Basically, Lotor is spiting Throk more by not conquering him the way standard imperial dogma insists one warrior should meet another. It’s an incredibly efficient dismantling of the threat Throk poses as a charismatic figure who’s infinitely better connected and established within the fleet, but also in a symbolic clash of values, Lotor manipulates everything Throk stands for and humiliates him without breaching his own values of mercy.

This, alone, would establish Lotor as brilliant, cunning, but ultimately detached, aloof, and incredibly snide- which he is, but not at all times to all people. S3e1 alone fails to grasp quite how complicated Lotor is.

And that’s where Puig comes in.

Because the leader of Puig, in the eyes of the empire, is not a respectable, influential man like Throk. He’s a slave, powerless, with no grounds to even really threaten or challenge Lotor. Ezor alone brings him to his knees before Lotor even arrives.

However, with the abilities of the generals showcased, we see that even attacking them, Lotor proceeds respectfully. Ezor’s invisibility, Zethrid and Acxa’s portable barriers and Narti’s mind control aren’t assets the empire would utilize because the empire on Puig would have been a massacre. Lotor’s team explicitly goes in using their powers to make minimal casualties. We can count, onscreen, the people injured, and only one of them, an unnamed individual shot by Acxa who falls down, really would have the potential to be life-threatening; the others, the man Narti throws off a shallow roof and his companion who she pins down, the Puigian leader kicked around by Ezor, and the mounted rider thrown by Zethrid- would have had broken bones at the worst.

The cruiser, within Puig’s atmosphere, does not shoot at the populace or destroy any buildings.

Basically: for Lotor and his team, the amount suffered by the Puigians is a specific calculation, and they arrive with the express intent to hold the planet as harmlessly as possible.

This speaks to the fact that back in s3e1, Lotor’s gripe against the abuses of the empire is hedged in terms that he finds it inefficient. That people who are subjected to egregious inhumanity will be a constant fight to keep down- and conversely, people who are respected, acknowledged, given ownership of the empire the’re part of- will instead fight for you, to preserve your reign.

And efficiency is the greatest thing Lotor seems to admire. So Lotor isn’t being nice because he intends from the start to try and sell his cause to the Puigian leader- rather, he tries to entice Puig to join him because getting people to help you voluntarily is, in his eyes, the most efficient route.

This is the first thing Lotor respects about Puig: that their pain is meaningful. And that even defeating them, he wants to do so in a way that does not excessively harm him. One could argue this is framed more as Acxa’s ideals than Lotor’s- but, Acxa is Lotor’s right hand. He has responded to this very restrained, moral individual that dislikes hurting others any more than she can possibly help it by giving her a relative position of power and a particularly respectful ear.

The second thing Lotor respects about Puig is that while Lotor intended from the start to discard Throk as soon as his little photo op was done, and has no intention of giving Throk anything of what he wants, not compromising his own “repulsive” policies or even humoring the idea of Throk as an ally or advisor...

Lotor offers the Puigian leader his full assistance getting and securing what they want. He offers them an alliance, safety, support- rejoining the empire but with genuine say about what’s happening.

And what makes it clear that’s not just pretty words?

The Puigian leader turns him down.

And stays in power.

Lotor doesn’t retake Puig. He sets up his trap and then pulls all his people out and leaves. In s4e5 we see that Puig is still part of the coalition. There are puigians fighting during the blitz.

And this is the important second part of Lotor’s characterization. Because here’s the thing.

Throk, as mentioned, is an influential fleet commander within the empire.

Puig is pretty much nothing to Lotor except a strategic point for an ambush. These people are recently-liberated slaves with no real resources besides what appear to be a modest stock of weapons gleaned from the empire.

But Lotor blows off Throk in a specifically spiteful manner- and comparatively is much more careful and considerate towards Puig.

And the other key difference here?

Throk is a bully. Again, everything Throk says establishes he’s cut from the same cloth as a lot of our other galra antagonists- he’s been conquering people and forcing them down, hurting them, in the name of the empire and Zarkon. He thinks this is the proper way to behave- that people with partial galra heritage don’t deserve power or influence.

S3e2 shows us that not only is Lotor not always as cold as he was to Throk, but that even when he’s just taking what he wants from a relative stranger, Lotor has a certain amount of empathy for victims, and a certain amount of disgust for bullies.