#I don’t profess to know what really happened behind the scenes

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

I feel like the writers must’ve seen the fics and theories and scrambled to come up with things no one could possibly think of for season 3

[swarvey]

paper rings | harvey x f!reader

summary -> you decide to have some fun at the luau; harvey learns what it means to be truly humbled. warnings -> none! wc -> 2740

a/n: whaaattt i am totally not sneeking in leah x haley as much as i possibly can. absolutely not. anyways, another fun chapter to write!! this man is a prime example of dumbstruck with love. someone help him.

ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7

paper rings masterlist

chapter six: gorgeous -> "you've ruined my life, by not being mine."

Harvey couldn’t decide whether he wanted to cry or rip his hair out as Shane and Elliott berated him in each ear, both taking a different approach to dismantling his pride.

“You mustn’t let the Flower Dance dwindle your fiery love, Doctor!” Elliott insisted, twisting his head to try and meet Harvey’s downcasted eyes. “True love entails hardships and obstacles!”

“Sure, but I bet he didn’t expect his obstacle to be a damn kid,” Shane added distastefully. “That guy is a living example of ‘peaked in high school.’” 

“It’s true, I didn’t expect such a choice from our dear farmer, but it was her choice nonetheless. We must work with the present.”

“How? You think buying him a gridball uniform will help?”

“Shane, please, be realistic. I was going to suggest we find out when and where their next excursion will occur, so the doctor can reveal himself and profess his love—”

“What the— are you hearing yourself? What the hell are you on? Newsflash, we’re not living in a bad rom-com, pal.

“Alright, both of you, enough!” Harvey intervened, face beet red. “Listen, I have been thinking about this enough on my own, I assure you, so can we please try and enjoy the Luau?”

Shane cocked a brow, huffing. “Really? You think you can enjoy it with this shit going on in front of you?” He nodded towards where you were standing. 

Harvey glanced over, unsurprised to see Alex by your side. Emily smiled and nodded in front of you, her sister on her phone and chewing a piece of gum. At that point in time, the scene in front of him had become a common one. 

Except, one detail threw him off.

A familiar laugh sounded through the air, though it wasn’t yours.

A small smile lingered on Maru’s face as she continued to listen to whatever story you were telling, her eyes intently on you.

“Ah, yes,” Elliott sighed. “Leah informed me Maru took a liking to the farmer at the Flower Dance. Her efforts to befriend her haven’t ceased since then. I can’t say I’m not pleasantly surprised, Maru has always been a bit of a shy girl.”

“R-Right.” The writer looked over at his friend at the sound of his shaky tone, biting his lip when he saw Harvey’s face had paled. 

This was just about the last scenario he’d wanted to happen — after the Flower Dance, he had realized how his initial description of his “mystery girl” could fit Maru, despite him trying to pinpoint your characteristics. In the midst of it all, it seemed you ignored the fact you fit the picture perfectly, hearing only that he was interested in a nurse. Harvey cursed his past self, the full repercussions of his actions hitting him. 

Yet another mess he didn’t know how to clean up.

Shane let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his forehead. “You really know how to get yourself into shit, don’t you, doc?”

“I suppose so,” he replied, voice void of energy. 

“Alright, enough with this moping.” Shane paused. “As much of an idiot as you are, you’re still my friend, and I owe you a few, so I’ll —  I can’t believe I’m doing this shit — I’ll ask Emily about it, alright? They’ve been hanging out a ton, so she’s gotta know something.”

Harvey looked at him with softened eyes. “Shane, I—”

“You better not tell a damn soul about this.” 

With that, Shane walked away, Elliott trailing behind him rambling something along the lines of, “I had no idea you could feel such things!”

Just as he began to relax, Harvey felt a finger tap his shoulder, jumping at the touch.

You laughed, stirred even more by his exasperated look. “C’mon, Harvs, loosen up! I feel like you’ve been so uptight recently.”

Oh, you have no idea. “Sorry,” he said, ignoring his thoughts. “You caught me off guard, is all.” He gave an awkward laugh, adjusting his glasses.

“You’re a bit . . . off, today,” you noticed, tilting your head at him. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all! How, um, how are you enjoying the Luau? Did you add something to the pot?” 

Despite his rushed voice, you — thankfully — decided to indulge him. “It’s been great! Especially since the weather has been so warm. Haley and Emily have basically been dragging me and Alex to the beach all week. Anyway, you’ll have to wait and see what I added to this year’s pot, it’s a surprise!”

Me and Alex. Harvey had to clench his jaw to prevent a scowl from forming on his face. He realized then just how foul the sound of another man’s name seemed coming from your tongue.

“What’s Maru like at work, by the way? She seems really sweet.”

“Maru, yes!” he answered, blinking as he came up with a careful response. “I enjoy working with her, she’s very passionate about what we do. She was actually one of the first people I truly talked to when I moved back here, since she wanted to be a nurse.”

You hummed. “I see.” Harvey noticed how your eyes narrowed for a split second, as if you were trying to decipher the meaning behind his words, before smiling. “That’s what I assumed.”

Harvey thought for a moment, knowing he had something he wanted to ask you, before brightening. “You remember the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies, don’t you?”

After a brief moment, you nodded excitedly, grinning. “How could I forget? We used to go every summer.”

Yes, of course. Harvey would never forget the evenings he spent with you on the beach, watching the water in anticipation as everyone waited for the jellies to arrive. He remembered you practically bouncing with excitement beside him, while he’d simply been satisfied seeing you happy.

Harvey smiled at the memory, a wave of nostalgia hitting him. “Well, it seems we’ll get to relive a memory this summer.”

“No way. They still come here?”

“Every year, just as before.”

“That’s great! Maybe you won’t be as scared as you used to be.”

“Hey, can you honestly blame me?! That is not a usual sight!”

As you laughed at him, Lewis announced the Governor would begin tasting the soup, and Harvey wondered why a mischievous look filled your eyes. Surely you wouldn’t put something unusual in the pot your first year in Pelican Town, would you? He expected you to save one of your best crops of the season for the occasion.

Instead, he watched Marnie nearly faint at the sight of the Governor pulling out a pair of purple shorts from his bowl. Lewis looked like he’d just seen a ghost.

“Are those . . . my shorts?! ”

-

After your little stunt at the last event, you were honestly surprised you were still invited to see the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. Oddly enough, everyone seemed to move on from it relatively quickly, including Lewis himself.

Deciding not to think about it too much, you quickly filled up your pet’s water bowl and double-checked all the farm animals’ enclosures before walking up to your horse. She looked down at you with gentle eyes as you put on her harness, closing her eyes as you pet her head.

“Ready, girl?” You urged her forward, wind biting your cheeks as you swiftly made your way towards the beach. The gleaming light of the sunset made the ocean shine as you approached it, and you couldn’t help but let out an easy breath as your horse slowed. Throughout the previous couple of seasons, Pelican Town had grown to feel more like home to you than the city ever did. Sure, it was small, and farmwork was tedious, but you’d rather spend the rest of your life in the freeing countryside than in the claustrophobic city.

As you hopped off your horse, giving her a quick pet as thanks, you were quickly approached by the sisters and Leah. You smiled, waving at them. 

“Your outfit’s cute,” Haley complimented immediately, a drop of surprise in her voice. Leah nodded in agreement.

Emily lightly grabbed your shoulders, looking you up and down before giving you a wide smile. “Yes, you’re especially beautiful tonight, Y/N. Your energy is stronger than ever.” You laughed lightly after she winked at you, to which her sister swatted her away.

“Ugh, don’t say that stuff, Em! Just be normal and call her hot.” 

Leah laughed. “She’s right, you’re radiant tonight,” she sighed dreamily. “You all will have to give me some tips on how to dress sometime.”

Haley whipped her head around, crossing her arms. “Why? Your style’s already perfect.” Leah blinked, speechless at her statement as she began to blush. After a moment, the blonde quickly turned away, checking something on her phone. 

“She’s never said that to anyone before,” Emily whispered in your ear, and you believed it. You were constantly surprised at her approval of your style, especially after seeing how she criticized pretty much everyone else in town — particularly Alex.

As if he could sense your thoughts, the jock himself appeared next to you, a gridball tucked under one of his arms as he heavily dropped the other around your shoulders. 

“How’s it goin’, farmer?”

You shoved him off, unable to contain your smile as he grinned playfully at you. Although the two of you had a bit of an awkward start due to Haley’s bluntness, you quickly learned Alex was much more understanding after opening up to you. After hanging out a couple of times, he ended up telling you about his background and how he didn’t have the best relationship with his father, which could explain why it was a bit harder for him to let down his guard. Hearing him talk had made you feel comfortable enough to bring up some of your own troubles, pleasantly surprised at how well he’d listened and expressed his sympathy to you. 

Now, the two of you were open friends, seeing each other every other day and helping each other out whenever you could. This explained why he eagerly held out the gridball to all of you, sweat glistening on his skin. From the looks of it, he’d abandoned his shirt a while ago, his muscular body showing in all its glory.

“You wanna toss around a gridball with me and Sam?” he asked, his excitement reminding you of Dusty whenever you approached him with a treat.

“I think I’ll pass this time,” you replied, watching as he turned hopefully to the other girls. 

Upon seeing Haley’s deadpan stare, he shrugged. “Suit yourselves.” With that, he ran to the other end of the beach, calling out to his friend as he reared to throw the ball.

“You two are actually pretty cute together, you know,” Leah commented. Emily looked at you with wondering eyes, while Haley scoffed. You had a feeling she already knew your answer.

“Yeah, well, he’s not really my type.”

Just as your blonde friend began to make a remark, Harvey walked onto the beach, and her mouth snapped shut. 

Maru was next to him. Not that it mattered, but she was. Is she blushing, or is it the heat getting to her? You frowned at your thought. Why did that even matter?

As they made their way further in, Maru spotted you quickly, waving enthusiastically. You raised your hand in a greeting, smiling at her.

“I seriously have no idea how you’re so nice to her,” Haley muttered, trying to keep her voice down. “She obviously likes him back.”

You shrugged. “Regardless of whatever the hell is happening between all of us, she’s still a nice girl.” Let’s ignore the fact I’m constantly trying not to compare myself to her.

When Maru went to join her family, you made your way over to him, which was apparently the other girls’ signal to scatter. You silently reminded yourself to tell them to be more subtle as he turned to you, giving you the same shy smile you’d seen for years.

“Y/N! It’s good to see you,” he greeted. You could smell the cologne he was wearing from a few feet away. 

“Hey, Harvey!” Ever since the Summer had started, Harvey had abandoned his coat, opting to simply wear his white button-up with his sleeves rolled up. You swore he must have started working out after college — he was no longer the scrawny med student you’d known in college. 

After realizing you had been staring at his broad shoulders and thick arms for a bit too long, you quickly cleared your throat, bringing your attention back to his patient gaze.

“So, how was your day?” you asked, hoping you sounded normal.

“Same old,” he sighed. “Maru and I had to stay at the clinic for a bit to finish up some work, though. We just got finished.”

“Really? What kind of work?”

He shrugged. “Nothing too important.”

Nothing too important? Really? You watched enough movies to have an idea of what that could mean. As the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, you snuck glances at Harvey, trying to read his facial expression.

Something was off, but you couldn’t figure out what.

-

Something was off. Harvey could feel it.

He couldn’t tell if it was because of your mannerisms — which were a bit out of character, he noted, as you kept giving him looks he wasn’t used to — or what Shane had gathered from Emily at the Luau. Being back on the beach brought Harvey back to his friend’s words.

“She wouldn’t budge,” he’d said, visibly frustrated. “She just said you should ‘tread carefully around her’ and to ‘pay attention to what you might not typically notice.’ Some shit like that. Sorry, bud.”

Although he hadn’t exactly gotten the answer he’d been looking for, Harvey was still grateful for Shane’s efforts, trying his best to read more into your body language than usual. Through his quick looks at you while you gazed at the water, all he was able to gather was that you, as per usual, looked completely and utterly breathtaking. The moon had completely replaced the sun at that point, its pale light exaggerating the features on your face he’d memorized over the years. 

He swallowed, eyes glued to the horizon as he prayed his dusted-pink cheeks wouldn’t give him away.

Just as he opened his mouth to break the silence, you turned your head, gasping.

“They’re here!” Sure enough, the jellies slowly floated into view, shimmering in the ocean’s waves.

As Harvey turned to get a better view of them, his hand grazed yours, and you flinched slightly. 

Am I seeing things?

While your eyes were wide and awestruck at the sight of the jellyfish passing by, he took the moment as a chance to admire your expression. The moment was quickly over, though, when the sisters and Alex joined you. Thankfully, the gridball player had thrown on his t-shirt for the event.

“Whoa, isn’t it cool, Y/N?” he voiced, eyes round with amazement, and you laughed. God, he usually loved the sound, but he couldn’t stand to hear it then.

Harvey grit his teeth at the sight of him on the other side of you, part of him wanting to grab your hand and pull you to his chest. How was it fair that Alex got to dance with you, to make you laugh, to go to the beach with you, while he had to watch from afar? 

His heart ached at the thought of you not being his. He honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if it stopped beating altogether. 

You turned to him then, and he jumped slightly as you met his eyes. 

“Still scared, Harvs?” you asked quietly, the teasing glint in your gaze reminding him of when you were young.

“Terrified,” he joked, tension leaving his body at the sight of your grin.

“Well, you’re in luck — I’m back in town, so I can protect you again!” He could hardly believe it. Despite decades passing, you still said the phrase with the same tone. It was as if he could hear your younger self’s voice echoing in the back of his head.

He couldn’t help but laugh, feeling his hand brushing against yours once again as the jellyfish disappeared. He swore it took all his willpower not to intertwine your fingers together.

Harvey wondered how you could be so, so close to his grasp, and yet so far away.

[gnnosis]

i have a theory about the bear & carmy’s artistic talent and no one else (that ive seen!) seems to be talking abt this. gotta get it out there so if it happens i can say i predicted it

carmy is going to leave the restaurant industry. we see time and time again that carmy is not happy in the industry, and maybe never has been. he’s traumatized by the fancy restaurant he worked at. he wanted to work at the beef, but only to be with mikey. he took over the beef because he (felt he) owed it to michael — and because he had the skills — not out of some great love of cooking. he only got to his level of skill out of a self-professed “fuck you” to mikey! carmy’s not happy. “this shit’s not fun for me,” he says to richie. make no mistake — he’s really, really good at it. but he’s not happy. the industry brings out the worst version of him, every single time. the stress of the kitchen turns him into the bear from the 1x01 opening, into his mother.

contrast this with syd and richie, tina, even marcus. even under stress, even with everyone yelling at each other, the kitchen brings out the best in them. they’ve improved their skill levels because they feel they owe it to themselves. richie thrives under the pressure of being a concierge, he’s a new man, he wears suits now. tina is a transformed person because she’s begun to believe in herself (and knows others believe in her). marcus (although thwarted by his own hyper-focus sometimes) delights in the craft of being a pâtissier, creates spectacular, thoughtful dishes — he flourishes.

and sydney. sydney, under stress, opening night, is throwing up in the bushes, like we know carmy did in a job that was Bad for him. but it’s not the stress of the job per se that’s getting to syd, but the pressure she’s put on herself to do well enough that her dad will see the bear as she sees it — her very own place in the industry she loves above all else, a place to practice her beloved craft, to take care of people, to pour everything she has into this one thing. it’s not the job making her physically sick, like it did carmy, it’s the pressure of showing how much she loves the job, of her dad thinking she’s doing well enough to deserve to love and devote herself to it as much as she is. and in the kitchen, under pressure, with carmy locked in the fridge, syd doesn’t panic, doesn’t yell and scream — not really. she collaborates with richie, delegates as necessary, steps up — and leads. she shines.

carmy as a chef is doing what he’s good at, performing the skills he’s cultivated. it might be the only thing he feels he’s good at. it’s all he’s ever really known. but it’s not healthy. it’s killing him. it’s ruining his relationships with everyone important to him. he needs to get out.

i predict that sydney and richie will take over the bear. probably with nat’s help behind the scenes. they love it. it gives them purpose. it makes them thrive.

and carmy… will go to visual arts school. (or simply become an artist. do people still do art school these days? if so… like… he could do worse than SAIC)

i don’t think the show has been dropping all these references to carmy’s artistic talent for no reason. the pants he designed (thom browne’s!), the drawings of claire they mention and then flash during his panic attack, the speculative drawing of the bear he gifts michael in 2x06, and the menu drawings that sydney gushes over. the painting he hates that’s hung in the restaurant? could you do a better one, carm?? in the future, will that get replaced with one of yours, carm??? his artistic talent is lingered on too much to not be indicating something about what carmy really loves. a talent he innately has but doesn’t seem to realize the depth of. what he’d spend his time doing absently before he got caught up in the rat race of the restaurant industry. he talks about art like it’s something he’s compelled to do, like it’s something he loses himself in. a flow state.

carmy can flourish too. it’s just that he’s going to need to go somewhere else to do it.

[mrsportgas]

The Neightbor. Chapter 5

Summary: The story takes place in the real world. Shanks, your unbearable neighbor, makes you a proposition that you're unsure whether to reject. It could be the start of a friendship, or maybe something more?

SHANKS X YOU

WARNING: Except for the first chapter, the rest will contain scenes of sex and violence, making this fanfic strictly +18.

TAG LIST: @buggsclownie @commanderfreethatdust @nocturnalrorobin @candy1277 @bluetokie

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

I hung up the phone and, for a moment, I stood still, feeling my heart pounding. I couldn’t believe what I had just done. I had played with fire, challenging Shanks in a way I’d never imagined.

I checked the time. I had to leave immediately. I grabbed my underwear from the floor and put it back on. It was true I had said that to Shanks, but I couldn’t go to a final presentation like that. I’d figure out how to handle it later so he wouldn’t notice.

With my project folder under my arm and a deep breath to calm my nerves, I headed to the university. As I walked through the campus, I could feel the energy of the event already buzzing in the air. The decorations were nearly finished, and the organizers were moving around, making sure everything was perfect. But my mind kept wandering between Shanks' words and the pressure I felt about the presentation.

“Focus,” I whispered to myself. This is important.

I arrived at the auditorium where I was supposed to meet Beckman and tried to shake off the last remnants of distraction. As I entered, I saw him sitting at a table, reviewing some papers with his typical serious yet friendly expression. Beckman had always been a mentor, someone I could trust to give me his honest opinion, without sugarcoating.

“Y/N, right on time,” he said, glancing up and giving me a slight smile when he saw me enter.

“Hi, professor. Is everything ready for tomorrow?” I tried to sound relaxed, but my nerves betrayed me.

“Everything is in order,” he replied, gesturing to the chair in front of him. “Let’s quickly go over your presentation. I want to make sure you’re not missing anything and that you��re completely prepared.”

I sat down, pulling the documents from my folder. I was confident I had done a good job, but Beckman’s approval was key to putting me at ease. Over the next few minutes, we reviewed every slide, every key point of my presentation. Beckman nodded frequently, making small corrections here and there, but he didn’t dwell too much on the details.

Finally, he set the papers aside and looked at me with a smile of approval.

“Perfect, Y/N. You’ve done an exceptional job. I have nothing more to correct,” he said, crossing his arms. “The only thing left is to prepare for the social part—the party.”

I returned his smile, feeling more relieved than I expected.

“Thank you, professor. It really means a lot to me.”

“I know,” he replied, his tone more serious. “But remember, getting an investor isn’t just about a good presentation. The most important part happens at the party, when you have the chance to speak with them directly. That’s where you need to be smart.”

I adjusted in my seat, paying close attention to every word.

“The key is to make the investors feel comfortable with you. Don’t overwhelm them right away with too much technical information. That will come later. First, connect with them. Talk about yourself, your passions, why this project is important to you, and how it could make a difference. If you get them interested in you as a person, they’ll be more willing to listen to your idea.”

I nodded, mentally noting every piece of advice. I knew Beckman was right. Having an innovative project wasn’t enough; I needed them to see me—the person behind the project.

“And above all, don’t get discouraged if you don’t secure something tomorrow. Sometimes the seeds you plant today don’t bear fruit until much later. The important thing is to make a good impression,” Beckman concluded with an encouraging look.

“Understood. Thank you again, professor.”

Beckman stood up and gave me a light tap on the shoulder.

“Trust yourself, Y/N. You have everything you need to succeed. Just remember to enjoy it, too.”

I left the auditorium feeling more prepared, but still with that mix of nerves and anticipation.

I glanced out the hallway window, not really expecting Shanks to have shown up. I walked through the parking lot from top to bottom, and… there it was: his Range Rover parked at one end, right in the front row.

Nervousness shot through my body. Had he really come? Was it just because of the challenge, or did he actually want to see me?

At that moment, our conversation and my underwear came to mind… I had to make a decision, and honestly, walking through the university without them felt a bit bold, considering my skirt barely covered the essentials. I decided to take the risk and ran to the bathroom, slipping them off and tucking them deep into my bag, so Shanks would never find out.

I stepped into the hallway carefully, walking slowly but confidently, heading toward the parking lot with deliberate steps, trying to keep calm as my heart raced. With each step, the reality of what I was about to do washed over me. Seeing Shanks in person, after everything we had talked about, and on top of that, without the underwear I had just stashed in my bag, added a level of tension I was struggling to control.

There it was—his Range Rover, parked in the front row, just as I had seen from afar. Shanks was sitting inside, his arm resting on the window, a carefree expression on his face. As I got closer, his eyes met mine, and his smile widened in that playful way, as if he already knew the effect he had on me.

I took a deep breath, trying to maintain composure as I approached the passenger door. The moment I opened the door and got into the car, I could feel his gaze on me, like he was assessing every move I made. I couldn’t help but feel my skin tingle under his scrutiny.

Shanks was wearing a white shirt with a few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his muscular chest. The shirt was tucked into jeans that paired nicely with some sleek dress shoes. I couldn’t help but take in his whole figure—he was handsome, too handsome.

“Shall we go?” Shanks asked in that casual, flirty tone he always used, accompanying his words with a playful smile. “I had to swing by work, but now I’m all yours.”

I buckled my seatbelt, trying not to let my face betray the mix of nerves and excitement I felt. I turned to him, trying to appear more confident than I actually was.

“And where do you plan on taking me?” I replied, keeping my tone neutral but with a suggestive smile on my lips.

Shanks chuckled softly as he started the car and began to maneuver out of the parking lot.

“I have a place in mind,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

The car moved off smoothly, and as we left the university behind, my mind kept racing. The sensation of being without underwear kept me on edge, but it also gave me a rush of adrenaline I hadn’t expected. The atmosphere in the car was thick with that tension that always lingered between us, but this time it felt more intense, like every word, every look carried a different weight.

Shanks drove with the same confidence he always seemed to carry in life, one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on the window. Every now and then, he’d glance at me quickly, as if enjoying watching me try to keep my cool.

“I love it when you get all serious like that,” he said, breaking the silence. “I can almost see your mind racing a thousand miles an hour.”

I couldn’t help but smile, though I tried to hide it.

“And what makes you think I’m thinking about you?” I replied, raising an eyebrow, teasing him with the idea of a challenge.

Shanks let out a short laugh and shook his head.

“I don’t need to think it. I know it,” he replied, his tone confident, without a trace of doubt. “But don’t worry, tonight you don’t have to think about anything. In fact, I need to unwind too.”

The car turned onto a side road, taking us away from the city’s hustle. Soon, trees began to line the road, and the streetlights faded, leaving only the moon and the car’s headlights to illuminate our path. The atmosphere became more intimate, more secluded, and I could feel the anticipation building in the air.

After about ten minutes of driving, the car began to climb up a steep road. I knew we were nearing something, but I had no idea where he was taking me. Finally, after a few more minutes, Shanks parked at a small lookout, surrounded by trees and nature.

“We’re here,” he announced with a smile as he turned off the engine.

I looked around, and my breath caught for a moment. The view was breathtaking. In front of us, the city lights stretched out in the distance, glowing like stars beneath the night sky. The scene was spectacular, and the silence around us, broken only by the soft sound of the wind, made everything feel even more magical.

Shanks turned toward me, quickly unbuckling my seatbelt.

“Spread your legs,” he said in a serious, almost demanding tone.

I couldn’t help but blush, my face burning at his words, and my heart began to race.

I did as he told me and opened my legs. With confident movements, he slid his hand between my thighs as he leaned closer to my ear. His hand explored my intimate parts.

“So it was true, you went to the university without anything on,” he whispered flirtatiously in my ear. “I didn’t think you’d be capable… of letting just anyone see my precious… pussy.”

Mine? Had he really just said it was his?

I bit my lip, the tension building with each passing minute, Shanks’ hand unmoving, and my breathing growing heavier.

He licked his lips. “Get in the back,” he said, pulling his hand away and unbuckling his seatbelt.

I opened the car door, trying to pull myself together, and opened the back door, slipping inside. Shanks followed, undoing a few more buttons on his shirt and looking at me intensely.

Once he got into the car and sat down, he took my hand. “Come here,” he said with a big smile, and in one swift motion, I was sitting on his lap.

His hand ran over my body from top to bottom, finally reaching my thighs, slowly moving upward. I leaned in to kiss him as my breathing quickened, and his lips curved into a smile. “So needy already.”

I shivered at his words. The truth was, I had missed him, and the desire to be with him was betraying me. I smiled slightly and moved closer to his lips, pressing them together in a passionate kiss. His hands slowly traveled up my thighs until they reached my intimate parts, exploring again until one hand found its way to my clit.

Shanks began to make small, perfectly coordinated movements. He already knew exactly where my weak spots were, where he needed to touch. With every movement of his fingers, his name slipped from my mouth, whispered directly into his ear. Suddenly, he gently but decisively slid two fingers inside me and paused for a moment, waiting for my response.

I jumped slightly from the surprise and sensation, and Shanks let out a soft chuckle. “Good?”

I nodded, and he gave me a small kiss on the forehead as his fingers began to move.

My moans filled the space; it was clear he knew exactly where to touch, and he was putting special care and effort into it.

“You know, darling? It drives me crazy how my name comes out of your mouth. Now I’m the needy one.” Shanks pulled his fingers out of me and brought both hands to his pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly, giving space for his now prominent bulge. His eyes met mine with a challenging look. “Fuck me,” he said, trying to imitate my voice and gestures from the other night when I had said the exact same thing.

I stood up as best as I could, giving him as much space as possible, gesturing for him to lower his pants.

When I took them off, I quickly placed myself on top of him again, feeling his member on my lower parts. I pulled back a little and took his cock in my hands, massaging it up and down. While Shanks let out all kinds of grunts and clung to the seat.

After a while when he had reached his peak, I withdrew my hands to get closer to him, approaching his neck to bite him fiercely while he introduced his member inside me. While we were both breathing hard.

"Fuck.. you always so tight darling?" Shanks' breathing was getting heavier.

I gave myself some time to adjust to him, and began to move, increasing the speed and intensity more and more, while Shanks licked and massaged my breasts when the moans allowed him.

We were both enjoying it, and I decided to go a little further, doing it slower and harder, doing small thrusts and moving my body in small circles. We both began to moan, the ecstasy did not allow us to say anything at all, it seemed that Shanks for the first time had been left speechless, and I would not last much longer.

"If you keep this up, I'm going to cum…"

Hearing that, I positioned myself closer again, increasing my speed a little more and letting myself be carried away by the pleasure. As soon as he noticed my juices and convulsions, he let himself go, exploding with a loud growl.

After a few minutes of catching his breath, Shanks put his clothes back on, got out of the car, and to my surprise, I saw him pull a thick, dark-colored blanket from the trunk. He folded it over his arm and shot me a knowing look. "Come on, I want to show you something."

I quickly got dressed and stepped out of the car to find Shanks. Leaning against the car door, he waited calmly, a casual smile on his face. He jumped up onto the car hood and spread the blanket over it, offering me his hand to join him. I settled next to him, and we both lay down, gazing up at the sky. The air was crisp, and the silence of the place wrapped around us like an invisible blanket. For a few minutes, we stayed like that, simply watching the stars, until Shanks broke the silence.

"Look, there's the Big Dipper," he said, pointing to the sky. "It's one of the easiest to spot. And right there…" he leaned a little closer to me, his fingers almost touching mine as he pointed to another spot in the sky, "…that's Orion, the hunter."

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, his profile softly illuminated by the starlight. His expression was serene, but there was something in his tone, in the way he spoke to me, that made me feel like this moment was more than just a simple astronomy lesson.

"Have you always been a fan of the stars?" I asked quietly, trying to break the growing tension between us.

Shanks turned his face towards me, his smile reappearing.

"I've always liked clear skies, but…" he paused, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something deeper, "…tonight the stars have some tough competition."

Before I could fully process what he had just said, Shanks leaned in and kissed me. It was soft at first, but soon the kiss grew more intense, more assured. My hands found their way to his chest, and for a few moments, I let myself get lost in the warmth of his body, in the way his lips fit perfectly with mine.

When we finally pulled apart, Shanks looked at me with a playful yet tender smile.

"I knew you'd like the stars," he teased, his voice soft, though his eyes were serious.

The drive home was quiet. We got back quickly, the lookout wasn’t far.

Shanks got out of the car, walking over to my door and taking my hand. "Good luck tomorrow, princess. See you on Saturday," he said as he kissed my hand, then turned to walk to his own door.

I stepped inside, my mind still spinning from everything that had happened, and just as I was taking off my shoes, I saw Nami sitting on the couch, looking at me with a knowing smile.

"Well?" she asked, her tone playful. "How was the 'meeting'?"

I flopped onto the couch beside her and sighed.

"It was… unexpected."

Nami raised an eyebrow.

"Unexpected, huh? Come on, spill."

And then, unable to stop the smile that spread across my face, I told her everything. From the moment I saw Shanks at the window to the kiss under the stars.

"Y/N, you two slept together and you’re excited over a simple kiss? You’re so strange," she laughed.

“It’s in those moments that my heart tells me maybe it’s not just about sex, that I mean more to him. But I still don’t know.” I replied with a smile, glancing at Nami.

However, something about her expression made me realize she was lost in her own thoughts, uneasy. She was nervously playing with her hair, something she only did when dealing with something important.

“Are you okay?” I asked, trying to get her attention.

Nami stopped twirling her hair and sighed deeply, as if searching for the courage to say what was on her mind.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” she said, her voice softer than usual, almost hesitant.

I sat up straighter, my senses on alert. Nami wasn’t one to lose her composure easily, and when she did, it meant something serious was happening.

“Tell me, what’s going on?” I urged gently.

She bit her lower lip, clearly struggling with her thoughts. After a long silence, she finally spoke.

“It’s my supervisor,” she whispered.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. I knew she had been spending a lot of time with him, preparing for her presentation, but she hadn’t given me many details about their relationship. Something in her tone, however, told me this was much bigger.

“What about him?” I asked, sensing something unexpected was about to be revealed.

Nami took a deep breath, closing her eyes as if bracing herself for a confession she had been holding in for some time.

“He kissed me.”

My eyes widened. That wasn’t what I had expected to hear.

“What? When did that happen?” I asked, still in shock.

She let out the breath she’d been holding and looked at me, her face a mixture of excitement and confusion.

“It was yesterday, after one of our work sessions. Everything was normal, we were going over the final details of my presentation. But when we finished, he got closer than usual, and before I realized it, he kissed me.”

I sat there, processing the situation.

“And what did you do?” I asked, needing to know every detail.

Nami smiled, but it was a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

“I kissed him back. I didn’t push him away or stop him. In fact… I liked it.”

My mind paused for a second. I knew Nami to be professional, always maintaining boundaries in difficult situations, so this surprised me.

“Wait, do you like your supervisor? So what you said at the party on Saturday wasn’t a joke?” I asked, trying to piece it all together.

She nodded slowly, her cheeks flushing.

“Yeah… and I don’t know how to feel about it. He’s a bit older than us and he’s my mentor, which complicates things. But, Y/N, I really like him. I’m not sure how it happened, but the more time I spend with him, the more I realize I’m attracted to him.”

I was stunned. I’d never seen Nami so unsure about matters of the heart.

“And what about him?” I asked cautiously. “Did he say anything after the kiss?”

Nami nodded, her eyes shining with a hint of hope.

“After the kiss, he apologized, but not in a way that made me feel rejected. He said he couldn’t help it, that he’s been feeling something for me for a while, but he didn’t want it to interfere with my work or my future.”

I could see the conflict in her face. She was torn between the professional and the personal, a dilemma that wasn’t easy to solve.

“Nami, this is complicated,” I said, trying to find the right balance in my words. “I understand that you like him, and it’s clear he feels something for you too. But you need to think about how this could affect you, especially with your presentation so close.”

She nodded, her eyes focused on her hands.

“I know. That’s why I’m so nervous. Tomorrow’s the presentation, and I don’t want this to distract me. But I can’t help thinking about what all this means for afterward… What if it goes further? What if it doesn’t work out?”

“You can’t have all the answers right now,” I said gently. “What’s important is that tomorrow you focus on your presentation. Do your best, and after, once things have calmed down, talk to him. Clear the air about what you both feel, but don’t put too much pressure on it.”

Nami looked at me, her eyes filled with gratitude.

“You’re right. Right now, I need to focus on my academic future. I can’t let this distract me… but I can’t deny I want to see where things go with him.”

I smiled, relieved to see her more determined.

“You’re incredibly strong, Nami. I know you’ll do great tomorrow, and afterward, you’ll have time to figure things out with him.”

Nami smiled back, though still a bit nervous.

“Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“We’re a team,” I replied, squeezing her hand gently.

We sat in silence for a moment, both reflecting on what lay ahead. Nami had a mountain of emotions to deal with, but I knew she could handle it. Tomorrow would be a crucial day for both of us.

It was the afternoon of the big day, and nerves coursed through every inch of my body as I mentally reviewed my presentation. I was confident in what I had prepared, thanks to Beckman’s guidance, but the pressure of securing an investor was overwhelming. Everything was ready: slides double-checked, words memorized… yet the anxiety lingered.

I was in my room, organizing my papers, when I heard the sound of the door opening. I looked up to see Nami walking in, a mischievous smile on her face and a large package in her hands. The box was a creamy color, elegant, with the logo of Éclat Boutique, the most expensive shop in town.

“What’s that?” I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.

Nami approached and placed the box on the table, gesturing for me to open it.

“It’s for you. It just arrived at the door,” she said, her smile growing. “There’s a note, too.”

I stared at her, confused. “There’s been a mistake. I didn’t order anything.”

“Open it,” Nami chuckled.

With trembling hands, I opened the box, and instantly, my eyes widened in amazement. Inside was a dress… but not just any dress. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. A soft crimson red, perfectly cut to fall just above the ankles, elegant and sophisticated. The fabric seemed to flow like water, with a slight shimmer under the light. It was a dream dress, the kind you only imagined wearing on a special occasion, and it came from the most exclusive store in town.

“This can’t be real…” I whispered, stroking the delicate fabric.

Amused, Nami pointed to the small card next to the dress.

“You might want to read the note,” she said, crossing her arms and waiting for me to open it.

I took the card in my hands, still feeling a mixture of surprise and nervousness. As I opened it, my heart skipped a beat.

“As soon as I saw it, I knew it was for you. Good luck. I know you’ll shine.”

“Shanks…” I murmured, a wave of emotions rushing through me.

Nami, who had been watching my reaction with a mischievous grin, let out a small laugh.

“This is too much…” I mumbled, still processing what had just happened.

“Come on, Y/N. This dress is perfect for you. And when was the last time you treated yourself to something this nice?” Nami said, stepping closer to admire the dress.

“You’re right,” I replied, smiling. “It’s perfect.”

Nami looked at me with a mix of excitement and complicity.

“Well, don’t get too sentimental now. Go try it on and make sure you’re ready to dazzle everyone at that event.”

I stood up, still feeling the flutter of excitement in my stomach. I took the dress to the bathroom, and as I put it on, I was surprised at how well it fit. It was as if the dress had been tailored just for me. The way it fell, the color—everything made me feel different, more confident, more like myself.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Nami’s jaw dropped.

“Wow, Y/N… you look stunning.”

I laughed, but inside, the nerves of seeing him that night were still there, mixed with the pressure of the presentation.

Nami and I had spent the entire afternoon getting ready. She was just as nervous as I was, though she tried to hide it. As I looked at myself in the mirror, adjusting the final details of the red dress Shanks had sent, I still couldn’t believe it. The simple fact that he had sent me something so spectacular gave me a small boost of confidence I desperately needed.

We got in the car, and as we drove to the auditorium, my mind was focused on every word I had to say, every point I needed to emphasize. I knew I couldn’t let my nerves get the best of me. I had to stay composed, remember Beckman’s advice, and trust that I was prepared for this opportunity.

When we arrived at the auditorium, the pressure intensified, but Nami, always optimistic, gave me a quick hug and looked at me with determination.

“We’re going to nail this! Let’s go!”

We entered the auditorium, and the magnitude of the event hit me. There were more people than I expected. The other speakers seemed so confident, so focused, as they prepared for their own presentations. I was up first, so I didn’t have much time to dwell on my doubts. The minutes flew by, and soon I was called to the stage.

I took a deep breath, remembering that everything I had worked for culminated in this moment. I walked to the center of the stage, my heart racing, but with the conviction that what I had prepared was good enough. More than that, it was brilliant.

I started my presentation with a shaky voice, but little by little, I found my rhythm. The words flowed smoothly, my ideas well-structured, and I could feel that I had captured the audience’s attention. As I progressed, my confidence grew. Beckman had been right—I was ready.

But then, something unexpected happened.

Suddenly, a loud noise broke the silence in the auditorium. The main door swung open, and all eyes turned toward the entrance. I tried not to get distracted, but when I saw who it was, my heart nearly stopped.

It was Shanks.

Dressed in a sharp black suit, his hair slightly tousled but with that signature air of confidence. He walked in with a relaxed stride, as if time and space adjusted to his rhythm. He made no effort to conceal his entrance or apologize for interrupting the presentation. The door slammed shut behind him, and for a moment, the entire auditorium fell silent, waiting.

“What is he doing here?” was all I could think. My mind was in complete disarray. I was momentarily speechless, completely stunned. But what shocked me the most was where he went.

Shanks, with all the calm in the world, walked directly toward the VIP section—the area reserved for the city’s most important investors and businesspeople. He sat comfortably in one of the front-row seats, as if he belonged there. He nodded to a few of the attendees, and everyone looked at him with evident respect.

The entire auditorium was even more expectant, including me. Who was Shanks, really? Why was he sitting in the VIP section? What on earth was happening? Questions swirled in my head, and that awful ringing started in my ears, the kind that signaled everything was about to fall apart. But I couldn’t let panic take over. I had to keep going. I was in the middle of my presentation, and I couldn’t let his arrival throw me off.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I felt the nervousness creeping in, but I closed my eyes for a second, recalling Beckman’s words and the confidence I had built up until that moment. I had to keep going. I couldn’t let his presence ruin everything

NEXT CHAPTER

[unhingedangstaddict]

I'll Hold Onto You While We Run Chap 14 Sneak Peak

(Another Tommy and Lucy scene seeing as so many people enjoy their friendship in this fic!!!)

Tommy pulled open the door, inviting Lucy in. “Hey, wasn’t expecting you. Everything okay?”

“Got some info for ya on the creep from the bar.” Lucy explained as she stepped inside. “Figured you might wanna chat too.”

Tommy nodded. “Alright. You hungry?” Tommy asked as he shut the door behind Lucy.

“Starved actually.” Lucy headed into the house and sat down at the kitchen table.

“Well lucky for you we’ve got a ton of Chinese leftovers. Wasn’t expecting such large portions and Evan didn’t seem too hungry.” Tommy began pulling out containers from the fridge and making up a plate for Lucy, skipping the things she didn’t like and piling on her favourites.

“I could kiss you.” Lucy professed dramatically.

“I still don’t get how you enjoy the leftovers cold, but if it makes you happy.” Tommy shrugged.

“It does.” Lucy confirmed with a grin as she moved one knee to her chest, foot on the seat of the chair. “Lauren always acted like I was committing a crime. But I like it cold, so if I can’t have it fresh-hot I’m not going to the extra effort to reheat it.”

“How are things going on the divorce front anyway? I’d imagine you being here isn’t exactly helping.” Tommy wondered.

“It’s definitely not making things easier, that’s for sure.” Lucy sighed.

“I’m sorry things turned out so shitty in the end.” Tommy said sincerely as he set Lucy’s plate down in front of her.

“It is what it is I guess.” Lucy shrugged. After taking a bite she pulled out her phone. “So the creep from the bar isn’t anyone we should have to worry about. He does have a rap sheet with local PD for harassment, one charge of indecent exposure-”

“Typical creep things.” Tommy nodded as he sat across from her.

“Yeah, but nothing to raise any real red flags that he could be a threat to Evan’s safety. He’s been banned from the bar and if he shows up again he’ll be leaving in cuffs.” Lucy told Tommy.

“Well that’s a relief.” Tommy decided. “Evan didn’t really tell me how he felt about the whole thing, but he looked so uncomfortable when I got to the bar.” Tommy shook his head.

“I wish I’d noticed it before you got there. We were just so busy.” Lucy frowned.

“It’s not your fault. It’s the creep who was harassing Evan’s fault.” Tommy reassured her. “I can’t help but feel guilty though.”

“Why do you feel guilty?” Lucy frowned.

Tommy was silent for a moment, before speaking in a hushed tone. “When Cameron proposed the cover story I didn’t like it. I should’ve fought harder, proposed something else instead. Because if the cover story wasn’t what it is, he never would’ve had ‘bisexual’ on that name tag and he wouldn’t have been harassed and I wouldn't have kissed him.”

“Tommy, you had no way of knowing that was going to happen.” Lucy started. “And I’m not at all saying it was Evan’s fault, but he didn’t write ‘bisexual’ on his name tag because he felt like he had to. He could’ve skipped it altogether, or written ‘taken’ on it instead. He wears a wedding ring and the guy harassed him anyway. It’s in no way your fault or Evan’s.”

Tommy nodded slightly. “Still feel bad about the kiss. We haven’t done anything like that before- I mean we haven’t needed to in order to keep our cover or anything. Never even discussed it.”

“Did he say he had a problem with it?” Lucy asked.

“Well no-”

“Was he mad at you for it?”

“No, but-”

“Did he tell you that you crossed a boundary?” Lucy wondered.

“No.” Tommy admitted.

[kaiso-woo]

The Date of All Dates

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

-> Masterlist

PART 5 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader.

WC: 10.5k (longer than usual, I am so sorry) | Synopsis: Slice of Life. Just a fun little date with your boyfriend ^-^ Oh what's that? The pair of you cause a scene at a restaurant? Society knows about your relationship? Is there a break up? What's happening?! Oh no!!

Notes: FLUFF + ANGST, Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Threatening (assassin?, fork?), Jealous!Chan (briefly), Angry!Chan (:DD), Drug Mention (in a joke), Swearing, Pet Names Used (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love - there are like 50 million others if I'm being honest I'm not listing them all I'm sorry T-T), Kisses (Duh)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

Overall ‘Stay Series’ Synopsis: Bang Chan experiences the suic!des of Stays, so when you lot choose to die, he dies right along with you. Reader is the “antidote” to this condition - BRIEF MENTIONS IN THIS FIC

PART 5

!!Casual reminder this is entirely fictitious - Chris/Christopher in my work does not represent the actual Bang Chan - this is purely my imagination and nothing more - this goes for all other SKZ-Members too!!

--

The video had popped up on your feed, and without much else to do, you clicked on it, happily fast forwarding to the action. Stray Kids had landed at the airport, preparing for a performance nearby. This live was a while ago though, and you smiled softly at the sight of Chris, walking with powerful strides behind the rest of the group, his protective eyes peering out from between his mask and beanie.

The man in question nudged your shoulder, squinting curiously at you, again, covered up by the same mask. Different beanie this time though, and he had his hood pulled up over the top. “Why’re you watching that when I’m right here?” he chuckles, leaning in so he can speak directly in your ear.

“I’m not allowed to come watch you land, so at least I can watch it here,” you chuckle back, admiring the way the Chris on your phone comfortingly placed a hand on Jisung’s back to direct him through the crowd, letting him know he wasn’t alone. “I don’t understand why JYP won’t let you really,” Chris mumbles, snuggling in closer to watch himself over your shoulder. 

You tilt your phone screen towards him slightly, “I think it’s obvious.” “Yes but you could just be any other fan. I’m not saying you should personally be waiting to pick me up. You could still be in the crowd though,” he reaches over to slide your phone out of your hand, blinking at you once for permission. He rewinds the video slightly so he can analyse it again, always on the lookout for how he can improve his idol impression.

“And what if you see me? Can you pretend that you don’t know me?” you tease, opening your palm to ask for your phone back. “I’m not an idiot, I’m not about to profess my undying love at the sight of you,” Chris rolls his eyes as he places your phone back in your hand, and you switch it off, “although that is tempting to do,” he finishes with a wink.

You huff and slump further into your chair, turning away from him so you can watch the houses and cars whip past you outside the train window. “On second thought, Stays might correctly interpret the happiness in my eyes as me being in love with someone in the crowd, which is absolutely correct – so yeah, maybe JYP is right.” 

You turn back to him with every intention to prove that his eyes can’t possibly be overanalysed by Stays like that, but your words die in your throat when you lock eyes. He’s right. Stays would easily be able to tell. Even with his mouth obscured, and majority of his head covered with a beanie and hoodie, the radiant joy emanating from his eyes is enough to melt your heart. The corners of his eyes are crinkled slightly, but his eyes are still wide with rapt attention. You tilt your head and scan his irises closely. 

It's not often in real life that you would use the term ‘sparkling’ to describe someone’s eyes; maybe if you’re writing sure, which is rare enough as is. You couldn’t think of anything else to describe the way he’s looking at you though, so with a sigh you settle for that mental description and decide to change the topic. “Where are we going?” you ask him, glancing up at the map listing the train destinations above the opposite window.

“Somewhere fun,” he simply replies. You raise an eyebrow at him, but decide to give it up for a while. You’d been asking him the same question at random intervals, hoping to surprise the answer out of him, but he hasn’t said anything truly useful. The pair of you lapse into a comfortable silence, and after a while your gaze goes unfocused, lost in your own thoughts. Chris’ hand sneakily slips into yours, and he places it neatly on his thigh, carefully stroking your knuckles. This shakes you out of your reverie, and you glance at your linked hands, a small smile gracing your features. This would have been completely cute if you hadn’t looked up at Chris’ face, his eyes frosty, staring at someone on the opposite chairs to you two.

The poor man opposite was now awkwardly looking away, a blush spreading from his neck upwards. “What’d he do to you? What’s with the glare?” you ask, slowly piecing together the reasoning for Chris’ actions, but wanting to hear it from the man himself.

“He was staring at you,” Chris grumbles, letting his head drop onto your shoulder, his hand still gripping yours. “Okay… well while he was doing that, I was busy thinking about how soft your lips are. There’s no need to be possessive,” you chide, trying to prove a point. Chris laughs and unlinks your hands, instead stretching his arm out around your shoulders protectively.

“My lips? So randomly? You can’t even see them right now.” You grin cheekily and tilt his head towards yours, then press a little kiss to his mask, “I don’t need to see them to think of them.” Chris’ eyes go wide, his thoughts frazzled, scanning the features of your smiley expression. Without even thinking, he pulls his mask down briefly to properly give you a quick kiss, then pulls his mask up and sits back in his chair like nothing had happened.

“Chris,” you hiss, “Don’t do that again. What if someone recognises you?”  He gives you the side eye, contemplating, but then shrugs and dismisses the topic. You sigh and lean into his embrace, worried that his antics will lead to your photos plastered on the internet. Catching the train was risky enough, but your car was currently being serviced. Even though a little day spent hanging out in your apartment together would have sufficed, Chris was insistent on taking you out and about.

You only agreed because you figured he didn’t deserve to be cooped up on one of the few days he could mentally and physically rest.

--

Once you got off the train, Chris immediately linked your hand with his and pulled you through the crowd, his head bent low to try and hide his face better. Being out in the public with him like this always made you nervous, and you could tell Chris was aware of it by how he was rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. Generally, when you went on dates, you’d stalk out café’s that weren’t busy, or seek beaches with no crowd. It had become a recent hobby of yours, scouring the internet or roaming around town for cute little nooks and crannies you could safely spend time with him at.

This time however, Chris wouldn’t tell you where you were going, and apart from his vague disguise and minute efforts to keep his head low, everything was at risk. A part of you had a gut feeling that he simply didn’t care anymore. You walked side by side in silence, squinting in the bright sunlight. Carefully, you tried to arrange your hand in his, worried that it was getting too sweaty. Chris glanced at you, shook his head with a slight chuckle, and offered his arm for you to link with instead.

“You going to tell me where we’re going yet?” you urge, constantly eyeing the people walking past to make sure they don’t recognise him. “Not until you relax,” he hums, watching your anxious expression. “You aren’t going to tell me even if I do relax,” you huff, heart stilling at the gaze of a young girl’s eyes lingering on Chris for a little too long.

“Well… if it’s any consolation, I found something for us to do where no one will be able to see my face,” he directs the pair of you around a corner as you stare at him questioningly. Wasn’t that always the idea? “It’ll be dark,” he continues, coming to a halt right in front of a place you don’t recognise. In fact, you haven’t recognised the location for a while now, which has only added to your concerns. You sigh in disbelief as you read the sign above your head.

“Laser tag?” you croak, slowly turning to look at Chris with every ounce of judgement you can muster. Your heart cracks a little at the sight of his eyes dulling, the life dying within them at your apparent disappointment. “Yeah…?” You chuckle and slip your arm out of his to grab his wrist. Then without pause, roughly tug him inside the building, “Alright babe but don’t expect my sympathy when you lose!”

Chris’ relief is evident in his laugh, and you hate yourself for a second there, for ever making him doubt himself in the first place. “You forget who I am,” he teases, “There’s no way I’m going to lose.”

--

He was right. It is dark. Even though there are coloured lights flickering around and the diminished haze of a few button lights on the walls, your vision is limited. In fact, you reckon the LEDs flashing around obnoxiously like you’re in a disco party are meant to confuse and make things more difficult, not actually help you. Your teams had been randomised, and you have to say, your teamwork was shoddy at best. Your side of the game kind of just treated it as an ‘every person for themselves’ kind of situation. 

Originally, the staff had asked whether the group wanted their teams randomised or selected themselves. Randomised won majority (much to your chagrin), and Chris had been placed on your team. Upon seeing the way Chris was standing behind you, his arms wrapped in a hug around your waist, chin on your head, one of the staff members swapped him with someone in the other team with a devilish grin. Thanks, now the game was truly on.

It's been maybe 10 minutes, and you haven’t seen Chris anywhere. You’ve scored a few good shots on his team though, peeking out of window holes and ducking from one blockade to the next. You had a feeling Chris had commandeered his team, naturally slipping into a leadership role. They seemed to hunt and shoot in a coordinated effort, often ambushing and sneaking up from all sides. Something felt off about them however, they seemed restrained, pulling away frequently when there was still plenty of opportunity. Sometimes you noticed, they seemed to get bored of shooting a member of your team.

Chris had removed his beanie as he walked into the arena, carefully tucking it into his belt for safekeeping, and the last thing you saw of him was the fuzzy curls of his hair. He’d assured you he’d keep his mask on, and now that you think about it, you were quite positive this had only contributed to his team easily following his orders. What kind of person wouldn’t follow the directions of a mysterious, good-looking man who spoke with an eased authority? 

You winced as your suit lights flashed after a laser gun sound effect played from over by your right. Someone had found you. You leapt through the window above you and disappeared on the other side of the wall, taking shelter for a second. When the sound died, you took the opportunity to push yourself up and scamper away, looking for a better spot to recuperate and maybe counterattack.

“Chris!” you froze at the calling, trying to listen again over the sound of guns firing and the music playing in the background, “Oi! Chris! She’s over here!” 

Oh shit.

You took off at a sprint, heart thumping wildly in your chest, gun abandoned at your waist. You ducked around a wall, leapt over another, and found yourself standing, breathing heavily, backed into a carefully chosen corner. There were no windows on either side of you, and the wall was far too high for anyone to jump over. You admit, it wasn’t the best choice in regard to an escape route, you were literally cornered. However, you could never outrun Chris, so you figured the best option was to bunker down and hide for a while.

Suddenly, all firing completely ceased. You weren’t sure what your teammates were doing, or what Chris’ team was doing for this matter. You didn’t know this of course, but Chris had managed to parkour his way to the top of the wall you were currently cowering behind. His teammates were watching eagerly from below, on the other side of the wall, trying to stifle their chuckles. No wonder all the shooting had stopped. How was your team supposed to shoot the opposite team if they were all stalking you?

Chris watched you for a second, his eyes gleaming in the darkness, then swivelled around from his perched position to offer his team a salute. In a fluid motion, he jumped off the wall backwards, landing right in front of you. Your scream made his team collapse into raucous laughter, and for a second there, they could have been Chris’ Kids.

“Jesus fuck how did you even-” you’re cut off by Chris pulling down his mask, trapping you up against the wall, and kissing you softly. He backs away after a second, whispering, “You’ve lost this one babe,” and with an infuriating raise of his hand, shoots you, your lights going off again in the location where most points are gained.

Before you can even process, let alone say anything in response, Chris disappears behind the wall to return to his team, and you can hear him yell, “Mission accomplished guys, the floor is all yours, thanks for your help.” “Our pleasure!” “Too easy.” “All good bro.”

You beeline along the path ahead of you, rocketing away from Chris’ team members that have dashed around the wall, eager to attack. You almost collide with one of your own team members, who sees the flock of people chasing you and runs alongside you.

“WHY ARE THEY ALL CHASING YOU?!” she yells, ducking around a corner to try and get some shots in. “My devil of a boyfriend,” you spit, joining her and helping to make the group scatter.

You were right. They were holding back earlier. If there was any hope that your team was out on top, that was most certainly not the case by the end. Even with you trying to organise your team once you eventually found each other, Chris’ yelled commands and his team’s speed, stealth and ferocity was unmatched. His encouragement and cheers of celebration could be heard literally everywhere you went, and his team caught on. Their motivational yells and cheers worked wonders on boosting their team. 

By the time the siren blasted over the speakers, and the white lights flashed on, immediately blinding, you were a sweaty, huffing mess. You meandered your way over to the exit, following the stream of people jostling each other to snag some cold water first. Chris bounded up to you out of nowhere, slinging an arm around your shoulders and unnecessarily leaning on you. You almost buckle under his weight, exhausted to the core.

“How was that, hey?” he laughs, shaking you slightly in his adrenalin-rushed state. You simply groan in response and amble your way over to the scoring board on the TV. He already has his beanie back on his head, although a few of his curls are sticking out haphazardly.

Naturally, Chris’ team hurtles towards the pair of you, having already discovered that they won. Chris remains attached to you but offers a round of enthused high fives, congratulating them and praising their teamwork.

“You should join an official team,” someone grinned at him, to which Chris only laughed in response, shaking his head. “I don’t live around here, I’m only here to visit my girl,” Chris tugs you closer, and you smile sheepishly, hesitant to interact when Chris is potentially seconds away from being discovered.

“Surely your number then. Hit me up when you’re here and we can play another game?” he asks, tilting his head imploringly. Chris’ eyes widen and you tense at the question, unsure about how he’s going to handle this.

“I can’t do that, I’m sorry,” he replies simply, trying to convey his sincerity through his eyes. A girl from Chris’ team wanders over, casually eyeing Chris from head to toe now that they were out in visibility again, “What about me? Up for trades?” she asks, her eyes wide and innocent.

Chris shakes his head again, and you tug his hoodie in a warning. It was time you wrapped this up and left. “What are you a celebrity or something? Why are you hiding your face?” the girl asked, squinting at Chris, as though trying to see underneath his mask.

“What if I was?” Chris nonchalantly replies, and at this you take a fistful of his hoodie and make to drag him away, mind spinning, heart stuck somewhere in your throat. “I’d try harder for your number!” she states, eyes boring into your own.

“Not a chance, I’m very much taken,” Chris pulls you into a tight embrace, burying your terrified face into his chest. You wrap your arms tightly around him, worried about the words that are going to tumble out of his mouth. “I’m not allowed to give my number out to anyone, company rules,” he murmurs, and at this you crane your neck to stare at him. (A/N: I do not know if this is actually true, just pretend it is T-T.)

Two things he said there were horribly wrong. One, he basically just admitted that he was in fact a celebrity, two… “You gave me your number though,” you point out, frowning. He glances down at you and pulls your head back into a hug. “I broke the rules for you.”

Immediately, you stop breathing at his words, cheeks blossoming a lovely shade of pink, and you mumble into his chest, “Is that why… you fought with…” “How’d you find out about that?” he interjects sharply. It seems you two have almost completely forgotten about the other two people standing in silence, watching you.

“Suhee… Suhee told me…” you answer after a moment’s hesitation. Chris only sighs and brings a hand up to caress the side of your face, “Everything’s fine now though yeah? Don’t even think about it.” 

“So… is Chris even your real name?” the bloke asks, startling the pair of you out of your bubble. “Of course not,” Chris replies, then with a slight tip of his head as a goodbye, he grabs your hand and walks you out of the building. Not before you manage to hear the man and woman talking to each other, “Google him.” “How? We don’t even have his name.” “Take a picture quickly.” “’Ness that’s not right. We’re not going to do that.”

You silently thank the man, and mentally spit on ‘Ness, but speed up your pace regardless, hoping to get out of sight and out of mind.

--

You’re back on the train again, headed closer to home where you can stake out your favourite restaurant for a bite out to eat. It’s your favourite mostly because of the semi-private booths they provide, and if Chris sits up against the wall, he’s hidden relatively well. Chris heaves a deep sigh and wriggles out of your snuggle, whining about being hot and stripping himself of his hoodie.

“I’m sweating more than I did in laser tag,” he complains, folding it neatly and placing it on his lap, then snuggling back up to you. Carefully, you ease the hoodie out of his lap with a cheeky grin on your face, aware of Chris’ eyes watching your every movement.

“I’ll hold it for you,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when he rolls his eyes knowingly, “You’ll hold it, or you’ll permanently borrow it?”  You hug it tightly, playing with the fabric between your fingers, then bring it up to your face to inhale its scent.

You’d never have been able to guess his perfume’s ingredients if he hadn’t read it out to you one day to satisfy your curiosity: notes of spicy pink pepper and creamy ylang-ylang (that’s a tropical tree originating from the Philippines btw), combined with fierce musk and a sensuous vanilla base. That scent alone is enough to make your heart swell, a sense of safety and security washing over you with each breath.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Chris puzzles, “Why are you smelling my hoodie like it’s cocaine?” You pull your nose away from his hoodie to calmly respond, “Because this is my cocaine you dumb twat.”

Chris laughs and rests his head on your shoulder, looking up at you through his eyelashes, “I know mate, I just wanted to hear you say it.” “That your scent is my cocaine?” you grimace, neatly placing the hoodie onto your lap. “Okay well not that specifically,” he pouts, “just that my scent drives you insane.”

“You are a strange man,” you tut, resting your head on top of his, wishing more than anything in the world at that moment that you could remove his beanie so you could feel his soft curls. “You seem to like this strange man, so I think you’re stranger.” 

--

Finally, you’re sitting opposite Chris, slurping happily away on your cookies and cream smoothie while Chris takes generous sips from his pineapple juice. You’re sitting in your favourite spot waiting patiently for your food to arrive. Chris locks his phone and places it face down on the table, turning his attention to you with crinkled eyes. He’s wearing his hoodie again, much to your disappointment, so he can use his hood to hide behind instead of his beanie, giving his hair some room to breathe. Your eyes roam the curls, savouring the peaceful silence as you stare at each other. 

Eventually, Chris begins to chat away, and you reciprocate his enthusiasm, laughing and giggling at the stories he tells you about Skz, adding your own input when his words remind you of something, and even as you eat, you continue to rally stories and questions back and forth at each other. “Bailey’s coming in for day care tomorrow.” “Is he? The one that looks like Berry?!” “Mhm!” “Can he stay with me upstairs?” “Uhm… I don’t see why not…”

You glance down at your plate and realise there’s only one mouthful left and blink in surprise. Chris had finished his meal a couple of minutes ago and was leaning back into the booth leisurely. You shovel it into your mouth and scoot out of your seat to pay for the food before he can, but he leans over and snatches at your arm, frowning at you.

“We’ve talked about this a million times before jagiya,” he clarifies, his eyes narrowed, “you’re not allowed to pay.”

You raise your eyebrows at him and yank your arm out of his grip, “Then you should have beaten me to it.”

You scamper away swiftly as Chris lunges for you again, sending a jolt through your heart as he scrambles up to chase you. “Yah! Dol-awa!” (Come back here!) he yells, but you don’t really need to. He’s already hooked an arm around your waist and trapped you between his arms, your wriggling and laughter doing nothing against his strong grip.

“Okay okay okay. I won’t pay. You can let me go,” you fuss, scrabbling at his hands, but he sighs and hugs you tighter. “Never. Will never let you go,” he mumbles, kissing the back of your head affectionately. 

You’re not aware of this, but his hood has fallen down in his scramble to stop you, and without his mask since he was eating, he’s completely and utterly exposed. The lady at the counter looks up to sus out what the commotion is about, and her eyes immediately widen at the sight of Chris’ head perched lovingly on top of yours. 

“Bang Chan?” she gasps, the delirious excitement evident in her awestruck expression. Your heart plummets into the ground as Chris stiffens around you. “Hi! Oh my gosh, please can we take a picture together?” she hurries around the desk, swiftly pulling her phone out, and Chris instinctively drags you protectively behind him, hiding your face.

“Ah- ah no. No sorry, no photos today,” he rushes, arranging his hood that you’ve haphazardly tugged onto his head again. The lady pauses and seems to remember you’re there, her phone dropping to her side. She points at you with a curious tilt of her head, “Is she…?” 

You cringe and step away from Chris, walking with your hair curtaining your face back towards your restaurant booth. You’re dimly aware of the rest of the restaurant guests peeking over the top of their booths and leaning over to get a better view. “Is there someone famous here?” “Who’s she asking for a photo?” “Bang Chan, she said Bang Chan.” “BANG CHAN?!” “Who’s he with?” “Who’s she? His girlfriend?” “No way is Bang Chan dating someone.” “Eva’s going to be so mad.” “I wonder how Stays are going to handle this.” “Come on, we have to get a photo.”

Chris swivels around and follows you back to the booth, smiling sheepishly and pulling his hood even further over his head. “Babe let’s go,” he whispers, but the neighbouring table hears his muted words, and the whole restaurant is chattering again. “They’re dating. He called her babe.” “Did you get a good look at her? Is she even pretty?” “She’s kind of average.” 

Chris flinches, his eyes downcast as he realises his mistake, but you offer him a small smile of encouragement and gather your things. Chris thinks for a second, his hands fiddling, then pulls his hoodie off himself and yanks it over your head. He whisks his beanie off the table, tugs it onto your head and hands you his mask from his pocket. You blink at him, but put it on regardless, finishing off the disguise by pulling the hood up over your head. He seems to care more about your coverage than his own. “There’s no way they aren’t dating.” “I think he settled.” “What does she have that I don’t?”

You can see Chris’ jaw clench, the offhand comments beginning to annoy him, so you shake your head at him and nod towards the exit. He grabs your hand, making your heart thump wildly in fear – he’s really not doing anything to help ease the rumours. “Chan who is she?” “Do you even like her?” Chris pauses, and you try to tug him onwards, pleadingly.

“She’s the love of my life and that’s that,” he snaps, the break from his usual polite stature towards fans causing the restaurant to fall silent. You gulp and hiss at him, his name falling from your mouth in a panicked urgency. Half of the people in here probably didn’t even know who he was; just crazed at the experience of being in the proximity of a celebrity.

“He’s not even that good-looking, you sure he’s famous?” you hear someone whisper, and your head turns towards the voice, an unknown flame sparking, “He’s probably only famous because his father’s rich or something. That’s how it is these days, isn’t it?” they continue, and you stalk over to them, causing Chris to stare at you in surprise, too busy glaring at the restaurant guests to hear the comments about himself.

You slam your palm onto their table, causing the two girls to jump in surprise. “You say anything else about him and I will skewer you,” you lean over and snatch her fork from her plate, “with your own fucking fork.” “Bold words from a girl cowering in her boyfriend’s clothes,” the other girl smirks, folding her arms challengingly.

“At least I have a boyfriend,” you seethe, hand clenching around the fork. “Nice try bitch, I have one too.” “Not after my famous boyfriend with a rich father sends an assassin after him.”

Her eyes widen at that, and you lazily throw the fork back onto the table. “His name’s Bang Chan, as I’m sure you’ve heard, why don’t you google him on the phone you’ve been taking pictures of us with-”

Chris swoops in out of nowhere before you can finish your sentence, grabbing you by the waist again to lead you away. When you try to free yourself, blood boiling and not finished with your fight, he bends down and hoists you over his shoulders, walking you out of the restaurant while you yell in fury. After a while, he puts you back down, commands you to stay put while he returns to pay for the meal, and you begin to regret your actions. Chris seemed eerily nonchalant, and you knew you crossed a line by confronting those two girls. You probably made things more difficult actually, and you cringed as you pictured the next headline.

‘K-pop idol Bang Chan of Stray Kids allegedly dating a psychotic woman who threatened restaurant guests”

You’re so busy letting your thoughts eat away at your mind that you don’t even realise Chris is standing in front of you again. “C’mon, let’s go home,” he sighs, his hands tucked into his shorts pockets. “I messed up didn’t I?” you mumble, not daring to look him in the eye.

“I did too. It’s okay. I’ll sort it out with JYP later,” his eyes briefly skim over the sign above your head, and he disappears inside the store he left you in front of. After a minute, he returns with a packet of skittles for you. “Just forget about it for now okay? I’ll figure it out when I get back to Korea. And who knows… maybe everyone in there has a conscience and won’t even consider posting anything.” You snort and tear open the packet of skittles, craving the sour lollies all of a sudden, “That’s being overly optimistic.”

Chris laughs and begins to follow the route back to your café, you trailing behind him sadly, shoving skittles in your mouth with the mask pulled down to your chin. You frown at Chris’ back and the realisation hits you. He’s likely going to fight with JYP again. He’s likely going to be given a choice between you or his career. You can tell from his deflated posture as he walks ahead of you that he’s thinking the same thing.

You can feel that dreadful sting in the corners of your eyes intensifying, and reflexively, you close the distance between you two, snagging him in a back hug. You deliriously rub your face into his shirt, trying to stop yourself from crying, and he arches his back in response with a little gasp, “That tickles.”

“I’m sorry Chris. I’m so so sorry.” “None of this is your fault. I wasn’t careful enough.” “You’re always careful. I saw that the restaurant was kind of full today, I shouldn’t have suggested it. I’m the one who’s not careful” “That’s enough. I said forget it.” Chris squirms around and pulls you into a proper hug, sighing into the top of your head, “Don’t you worry… about a thing… it’s going to be okay, yeah?” he inflects the statement into a question, and you think he’s trying to reassure himself more than you.

You won’t let him choose. You’re not going to let him pick between his career or you. That’s not happening. He shouldn’t have to do that. You clench your teeth and bite back the tears, willing them to stay trapped in your eyes. You’ve made your decision. You pull away from him, eyes glistening with an unmatched determination. 

Chris’ face darkens at the sight, and he cups your face in his hands desperately, reading every single line of your set expression correctly. “No. I know what you’re thinking, and I’m telling you now – do not, under any fucking circumstance, think it.”

You remain silent, drowning yourself in his desperate eyes, lips frozen in a thin line. “Y/N no. Don’t.” “Want some skittles, Chris?” you nonchalantly ask, tearing your eyes away from him to stare into the contents of the bag still in your hands.

“No. No I don’t want skittles. I need you to fucking understand-” “I understand,” you interject, eyes flickering back up to him, but you figure your emotions aren’t controlled enough, and you can see the panic rise in his beautiful irises. “No you fucking don’t. I can see you fucking don’t. Everything is going to be okay. I’ll sort it out, I promise,” he insists, clutching your face just that little bit tighter. “I know you will. Now do you want some skittles or not?”

Chris glares at you, then pulls you into another rough hug, squeezing the air out of your lungs. You wish he wouldn’t. He’s making it so much harder for you to keep back the dam of tears threatening to overflow. “This- this here, in my arms right now, is my entire world. I’m not going to let anyone take that from me,” he whispers, and your heart crumbles to pieces. 

Would he let you take it from him? 

“Please eat some skittles. Sugar makes you feel better. Just don’t eat all of them okay?” you mumble into his shirt, and he pulls away, bitterly laughing, “Alright, give me those damn skittles.” You pass them over to him, smiling brightly. When he grins back at you, it’s like everything has fallen back into place, none of that just happened, it’s just the two of you again, the world fading into blurry insignificance around you. 

You’ll miss him.

--

For now though, you’re going to spend as much time with him as possible. You’re contemplating the situation as you sit on your bed, Chris calling out to you from the other side of the bedroom door. “Quit being mean~ let me in.” (A/N: What happened to "spending as much time with him as possible, hm?)

You’ve been checking the internet consistently, anxiously waiting for the news of your relationship with him to be leaked. Nothing was up so far. If something does happen, then Chris will naturally fly back to Korea as originally scheduled in a few days and immediately try to sort things out with JYP. It might work out well, it might not. You know however, that if he’s ever forced to pick between his career and you, you’re not going to let him choose you. “Jagiyaaaa… baby I miss you… let me in please?”

You sigh and flop back onto your bed just as your phone pings with a notification. Your heart stops – this is it… dispatch have found out surely. The relief that floods through your veins resolves into amusement when you realise the notifications are from Chris. He’s spamming you.

(A/N: When dialogue is in script format, it's meant to represent text messages.)

Chris: “baby I’m sorry” Chris: “please let me in baby” Chris: “muffin?” Chris: “sweet pea?” Chris: “the love of my life” Chris: “beautiful cinnamon roll who’s too pure for this world”

You grin at the new endearments emerging, feeling your insides go all soft and squishy at his antics. After a moment of thought, you message him back.

You: “Sorry doesn’t bring back my fucking skittles Christopher”

You pad over to the door as Chris yells in frustration, “I didn’t mean to. You offered them to me, and you were right. Sugar does make you feel better.” As soon as you unlock the door and swing it open, Chris’ face lights up with joy. He tackles you with a hug that makes you stumble back in surprise, and you desperately fight back your grin, opting for an annoyed expression. “Don’t lock me out again like that please. You need to be by my side at all times. 24/7. That was torture.”

You snort and carefully push him off you, wandering back to the bed, “We’re literally in a long-distance relationship, how am I supposed to be with you 24/7?” Chris waddles over to you, but you frown at him and point to the floor, “Nah-uh. You sit on the floor, I’m still mad at you.” He whines and pouts at you, his eyes as wide as saucers.

You know you’ll cave if he starts acting cute with you, so you pick up your phone and busy yourself with social media. Chris plonks himself down on the floor with a sigh, his legs splayed out wide in a V-shape, “I’ll buy you more skittles.” “I wanted those ones. They were special.”

“Since when? I’ll buy you as many special skittles as you want,” he huffs, folding his arms. Over the next few minutes, you do your best to ignore his whines of distress and needy sighs, his pet names and sugary chatter. You’ve been watching him out of the corner of your eye and decide to ignore the fact that he’s somehow moved a metre forward from where he originally was.

You yawn and stretch, putting your phone down to look at him properly for the first time in a while. Immediately, he stretches his arms wide and grasps rapidly at the air in front of him, asking quietly for cuddles, his legs bouncing in sync. Best leader. Five-year-old. Kangaroo. Mashed potato. You shake your head at him and give in, his adorable antics filling your heart too much. You crawl off the bed and settle into his outstretched arms, nestling your face into his neck. You place a delicate kiss there, and mumble against his skin, “If you ever, ever eat all my skittles again when I tell you not to, I will end you.”

Chris laughs and wraps his arms and legs securely around you. “You can end me whenever you want love. Just as long as it’s you doing it.” You pinch him lightly with an amused laugh, “You’re such a cheesy ass.” “Only for you~” he laughs, the vibrations from his throat rippling through you.

“Shut the fuck up, when are you going to stop saying that!” you yell, sitting up properly in his arms and trying to escape from his grip. “I’ll stop when I stop loving you. Which is never,” his grin could almost be described as sadistic as he tightens his grip on you, proving his point.

“Jesus Christ, oh my god you’re atrocious,” you grin, hiding your face with your hands in embarrassment. “Awh is my girl shy? There’s no need to hide baby, you’re adorable when you’re shy.”  “Shut.” “Come on… there’s no need to hide your beautiful face,” he teases, pulling at your fingers to try and remove them.

“I said shut-” your words resolve into giggles as he begins to tickle you, your muscles tensing at his actions, “Chris- okay stop- no- hey! Stop-,” you plead, rolling around on the floor desperately. Chris places his hands on either side of your head, leaning over you, giving you time to breathe.

He shifts his weight to one of his arms and affectionately brushes your hair out of your face, “I meant what I said, yeah? I’m never going to stop loving you.” You smile and pull him down on top of you, whispering heartfelt sweet nothings into his hair.

You don’t think you ever will either. Which hurts.

--

It’s later on in the night and you’re typing away on your laptop, sitting cross-legged on the couch, sorting through a few financial reports and business requirements to finish up the night. Chris is also busy working, sitting by the TV with his back to the wall, his laptop charging.

“Are you sure you’re comfy down there?” you ask him swiftly, eyes refusing to leave your computer screen even when he glances up at you. “With the amount of blankets and pillows you’ve thrown at me to use, you’d think I’d be comfy enough,” he grins, shuffling around a little and arranging the pillow at his back.

“I just don’t think you should be sitting on the floor,” you roll your eyes, pausing briefly to stretch your fingers. “You made me sit on the floor before,” he teases, clicking his touch pad in quick succession.

“That’s different,” you grumble, arching your back and trying to fix your posture, “although I have to say, sometimes I think the floor is comfier,” you finish up the sentence you’re typing out, uncross your legs, and move to sit on the floor, your back resting comfortably up on the couch.

The minutes pass as you fall into silence again, the atmosphere humming with a productive energy. You were antsy earlier, fidgety, still waiting for an article, or a social media post, or anything that would begin the drastic snowball of catastrophic events. Instead of worrying Chris, you chose to occupy your mind with work. Chris picked up on your productive mood and sat down to work too, and it had been a little over 2 hours since then.

Neither of you moved from your positions, except to stretch and grab a glass of water or snack for one another. You had basically forgotten about the whole fiasco, so absorbed in your own work, that when a notification from a newsagent you’re subscribed to pops up on your screen, your heart initially leaps in excitement; your body already used to reacting this way in the hopes that it’s something to do with Stray Kids. Your mind clicks back into reality, and you stop breathing as you click on it with your mouse. 

“Bang Chan of K-Pop group ‘Stray Kids’ rumoured to be dating”

The bold title leaps at you, and your eyes seem to be glued to it, rereading it over and over again. Eventually, you remember you need to breathe, and exhale as you scroll down the page. You lick your lips nervously as you skim the article and briefly assess the photos complimenting it. Overall, the both of you had done an exemplary job at keeping your face hidden. None of the photos showed more than your hair and eyes. It was so blatantly obvious that it was Chris in the photos though, which would make it hard to refute the idea that he was dating at all.

He so… clearly was. Although taken out of context, and in the incorrect sequence of events, every single picture that had Chris’ expression in it displayed genuine worry, or a fondness that couldn’t be mistaken. Fuck. You glance up at Chris, wondering if he’d seen the article yet, but he appears to be engrossed in his work, his headphones snug around his ears, biting his bottom lip in concentration.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a shuddering breath, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the following days, heck, the following weeks. Maybe even months. And now, the inexplicable urge to have Chris next to you overwhelms you. You might lose him soon, and you’re busy working away? He’s right there. Metres away, and he’s not snuggling with you? How pathetic.

“You’re too far away,” you grumble, staring pointedly at him and crossing your arms. Chris glances up and pulls his headphones off, “Sorry?” “Why’re you so farrrr?” you pout, mimicking the same grabby motions he had used earlier. You stare sadly in his silence, watching the corner of his mouth twitch, “The outlet is here, and you made it so comfy.”

Internally, you curse your kindness and sniff in disappointment, turning back to your work, “Fine then, be that way.” “Don’t be so dramatic,” Chris scoffs, putting his headphones back over his ears, but his grin has finally broken through.

Just as you knew he would, after a few more minutes of silence, but little work, Chris unplugs his computer and saunters over to you, plopping down next to you with a quiet grunt. You give him a little smirk, and a classic side eye, then go back to pretending to be completely absorbed in your report.

“Shut up,” he sighs, snuggling closer so your shoulders are touching. “I didn’t say anything,” you grin, cherishing his warmth, his presence. Now your productive mood has evaporated, the event you were trying to distract yourself from having already occurred.

You put in your best effort to write another paragraph but give up halfway through and end up staring blankly at the screen, mind trying to think over how best you convince Chris to let you go. A thought crosses your mind, and you consider it wholeheartedly, directing your brain power into imagining the past two years without Chris in your life.

What if you had never accepted his request to film Skz-Code in your café? What if you had ghosted him when he messaged you? What if you hadn’t noticed him, standing on that bridge? What if you were too occupied with James? What if… no… he’d be dead.

The thought remains in the forefront of your mind, and without your knowledge, tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. Somehow, a part of you knew that you were meant to see him then. You couldn’t explain that searing pain or voice in your head, and you weren’t about to try and figure it out now. Chris has been watching you for a while now, his head turned slightly, eyes flickering from your stock-still hands to the misery in your expression.

He reaches across and gently wipes one of your tears away, making you flinch in surprise. Truthfully, he was quite comfy where he was by the outlet. He wasn’t planning on moving to sit next to you, knowing full well that he’d lose all sense of productivity by snuggling up to you. That all changed when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a message in the group chat consisting of only Stray Kids. Hyunjin had sent the article, and he didn’t need to click on it to know what it was about.

Hyunjin: “Chan? You know about this right?” Chris: “yeah”

Hyunjin: “what’re you going to do?”

Felix: “is Y/N okay?” Felix: “you haven’t broken up yet have you?”

His heart throbbed at the thought, and he swiftly typed out a response, trying to quell the onslaught of questions and comments of concern from them all.

Chris: “I’ll sort it out” Chris: “I’m not breaking up with her”

It clicked in his head then, why you were complaining about him being so far away, when you’d been working like this for the past 2 and a half hours perfectly fine.

“I told you to not think about that under any circumstance,” he whispers, watching as you hastily wipe your tears away. His mind is already working overtime, conjuring a risky plan. “I’m not- I wasn’t… I- did you see the article?” you murmur, trying to organise your thoughts.

“Mhm… and I’m about to do something about it,” he takes a deep breath in, closes up his production software and opens up YouTube, “You trust me, yeah?” 

Your eyes widen as he begins to set up a live, and you grab his arm to stop him, “Chris you can’t. What will JYP say?” “I don’t give a damn about what he’ll say,” he scoffs, briefly checking what episode number of Chan’s Room he’s up to. It’s only Saturday, but you figure it doesn’t matter now. (A/N: Sit with it. I know Chan's Room is on hiatus shush, no need to remind me.)

“You better give a damn Christopher because your entire career is on the line right now,” you snap back, and a fizzle of fear simmers through you as Chris’ eyes flutter closed and his jaw clenches. “Do you… trust me…?” he asks again, opening his eyes to stare at you, unblinking. You gulp and slowly nod.  “Pull up ‘Insomnia’ for me then babe.” 

You have such a bad feeling about this.

--

You’re sitting in complete silence, trying to read the spam of comments on the side of his screen as Chris chats away happily, using his phone to play song requests and make recommendations of his own. The article was only recently released, but you can’t be sure of where else the photos have been leaked.

You’re about 20 minutes in when you spot the first comment asking about the photos. Chris either doesn’t see it, or intentionally ignores it, and continues asking for more song requests. 30 minutes in and the entire chat is swamped with questions about the same topic. You.

So far, Chris hasn’t spared you a glance once, knowing full well that his fans would ask about who he was looking at. This time however, he turns towards you, asking you a silent question, having finally reached the point of no return, his whole reasoning for starting the live finally occurring. You gulp and quietly nod again, leaning back to grab a pillow from the couch and tuck it protectively in front of you. Chris glances briefly back to the comments, searching for one he can work with.

“Ah! Where am I?” he pipes, looking around the room as though trying to figure that out himself, “I am… on a brief vacation…” he pauses to read the comments again, engaging with the audience professionally.

“No no, not in a hotel- I mean… um…” he sighs and rubs his face, and suddenly you don’t know how you feel about how easy it is for him to act, “I’m… um… I’m actually at my girlfriend’s house?” he grins sheepishly, a squeaky laugh escaping. The chat explodes with a new wave of comments.

“Yeah so you all saw the photos right? I was um… a little sad to see them, because Stays have always been… you know, respectful. But yeah, I am dating her.” If the comments were projected in actual voices, your head would have combusted. There are so many, and majority of them are in capitals, and you’re struggling to comprehend even only a single one.

Chris, used to this, reads one out loud for the benefit of his viewers. “Is she with me? Yeah, well yeah, I am um… in her house,” he laughs, adjusting the computer a little on his lap, “You want to meet her? Ooh I don’t know, I think we’d have to ask her.” 

He looks at you, his eyes wide, and you smile in encouragement, but internally you’re a panicked disaster. “Oh-kay, hang on guys,” Chris announces, sitting up so he can push his computer further away along the floor. When he returns to your side, you’re now visible in the screen, eyes paralysed with fear, half hiding behind a couch pillow.

Chris props his elbow up on the couch, resting his head on his hand, the other resting comfortably on your thigh, squeezing it in encouragement. You wave shyly at the camera, offer a small smile, and try to burrow yourself further into the pillow. “Jagi… it’s okay, you don’t have to read the comments, Stay just wants to meet you.” 

You take a deep breath, briefly glance at Chris, who’s smiling comfortingly, and slowly lower the pillow. “Hi Stay. Do I need to tell them my name?” you inquisitively ask, and Chris shakes his head, “Only if you want to.”

You consider it, then decide not to, “Yeah. Hi. I am… Bang Chan’s girlfriend. I promise I’m looking after him, don’t worry.” Chris’ grin widens, and he reaches over to pull you into his arms. You wriggle to get comfortable, trying to think of what to say.

“Uh… like Chan said earlier, he is… at my house- how in the world do you do this every single week? I can’t think of anything to say,” you start, turning to look at Chris. He smiles and pecks your forehead, causing you to jerk back in surprise. “It takes a while to get the hang of it,” his eyes briefly flicker down to your lips, and you scramble out from his hold and onto the couch behind him.

“I think I need the comments to rebound off, but I also… don’t want to read them,” you stammer. Chris is grinning cheekily at the computer screen, and his hands reach up behind him, using the camera to locate you, and tugs your legs around his shoulders, so his head is now in between your knees.

“You see what I have to deal with Stay?” you chide, trying to extricate yourself from him, embarrassed at how intimate he’s being on live.  “But I’ve never seen you this nervous before, it’s so cute,” he laughs. You grab the nearest couch cushion and whack him on the head with it, making him laugh even harder.

“Okay, okay. I’ll read the comments for you,” Chris gasps, crawling towards the computer to lay on his stomach. “How did we meet? Oi babe, do you wanna explain this?” he asks, twisting to look back at you slightly, his eyebrow raised.

“Oh um, I don’t know. You were at my café?” you shrug. “You make it sound so unromantic,” he grimaces, turning back to the computer screen. “Well it wasn’t really,” you frown, hopping off the couch to lie down beside him.

“Okay, I’ll tell them how we met then,” he grins, and you stare at him, wondering what kind of fabricated story he’s going to garble now. There’s no way he’s going to mention how he almost launched himself off a bridge and you stopped him. “She saw me outside her café and I looked a little lost, so she asked if I needed help and she was so respectful and nice, offered me a croissant and drink for the road, and I was down bad.”  

You roll your eyes at him and place your chin in your hands to read some comments. Surprisingly, there were more positive comments than negative, although the negative ones still made your stomach churn. Perhaps that one edit was right, Stay’s wouldn’t care if the Skz-Members started dating, they’d just be happy the members were getting bitches at all.

For a while, the pair of you take turns rebounding stories of your relationship, switching positions to the couch, to the floor to standing up and stretching frequently. Chris occasionally transitions into Korean, catering for his target audience’s needs, but he still translates for you, chuckling about how he should speak it more often at home so you can learn some too.

You’re asked how well you know the Stray Kids members, and a whole bunch of other questions that you ignore. You do your best to ignore the negative comments too, but they’re starting to get to you a little, and at some point the negative comments definitely outweigh the positive.

Chris pauses in the middle of trying to explain the context for the photos taken today, his eyes caught on a particular comment. He pushes himself up and reaches for the computer, scrolling back through the chat to locate it. As soon as he finds it, his expression goes resolute, and a little gasp escapes your mouth.

Go kill yourself.

You know with your whole heart that it’s directed towards you, but it doesn’t bother you as much as it should. Instead, the phrase stirs memories in your mind, positive you’ve heard it before. And of course you have, in your mind, the first time you saw Chris. You turn to try and read his expression, but it’s gone blank, his eyes void of emotion. “Chan,” he doesn’t move at all, his eyes still locked on the comment, “Chris. Baby.”

You nudge him slightly, but it’s like his soul has completely left his body. He’s not even here anymore. “Jagi. Babe. Channie,” you wriggle closer to him and whisper in his ear, “Christopher.” 

He inhales sharply and turns to you, eyes foggy with confusion. “Are you okay?” you quietly ask him, reaching over to rub his back comfortingly.  “Are you? We can stop if you want,” he pushes himself up into a seated position and crawls over to lean back on the couch. You follow, snuggling up to him, a dawning realisation emerging from the depths of who knows where, “I’m fine.”

It should have been obvious. It should have been painfully obvious. That voice was him right. On that day. He had seen a comment just like this one in a live. And that’s what he was doing on that bridge. Chris falls silent for the rest of the live, and you try your best to talk your way through it, drawing the computer closer to you after a while so you don’t have to lean forward to read the comments.

You yawn and check the time via the clock on the wall. It’s almost 12am. You peek at Chris, trying to signify that he should probably end the live, but his eyes are drifting shut, and his breathing has grown heavy. “Yeah so… thank you Stays, for giving me the opportunity to meet you all.”

Chris’ head suddenly droops onto your shoulder, and you glance at him again, a small smile forming on your face, before you return to address the live.

“I hope… I hope you’ll all be supportive… of Chris and I… he means the world to me… and that might not mean much to you, because he definitely means the world to a lot of you as well,” you find yourself stroking the curls off his forehead, and in his semi-conscious state, he snuggles even closer, his lips forming words that are only just barely audible, “I love you.”

You turn back to the live, eyes wide in disbelief, wondering if he was loud enough for the live. Clearly he was, the chat has fallen apart again. You chuckle and kiss his head gently, “I love you too Chris.” 

--

Later on, he wakes to a stiffness in his neck and back, his head still resting on your shoulder. He winces and sits up, eyeing your sleeping posture with your head resting up against the couch, his computer sitting in your lap.

“You should have woken me up…” he mumbles quietly, knowing full well that you could not hear a word, “I love you jagi… more than you know…” Chris sighs and shuffles over to you, sliding his laptop onto the floor. Carefully, he tucks a gentle hand around the back of your neck, supporting your head, the other in the crook of your knees. As quietly as he can, he hoists you up into his arms and steadily walks over to your bedroom. 

He stumbles a bit as he tries to lay you down, and you stir slightly. Eventually, he manages to pull the covers over you, and he tucks you in neatly. You groan and mumble something incoherent, and he waits with bated breath, wondering if you’re going to wake up.

“I… could beat the shit out of you…” you murmur, and Chris allows himself a smile. He bends down and kisses you softly, his heart aching with all the words he wishes he could say, all the love he wishes he could give. “You absolutely could… and the insane thing is… I would let you…” he softly whispers, then leaves your side to turn off the lights around the apartment.

He scoops up your laptop and his, puts them both on charge in the office and then goes on the hunt for his phone. He finds it not too far away from where your laptops were abandoned, and as soon as he clicks the screen to check for notifications, his heart sinks into his stomach, settling uncomfortably there at the sight of the messages.

He chooses to open the group chat first, smiling slightly at their words of encouragement. They were watching the live earlier, and continuing to tease him even through messages, providing running commentary. 

The latest messages, however, make him hate his career for a second. Only for a second. 

Jeongin: “the managers are saying you need to come back” Jeongin: “now…” Jeongin: “I think they’ve booked a flight for you”

Chris sighs and opens up the message from one of his managers. Sure enough, there’s a passive-aggressive request for him to return to Korea, a flight ticket attached. He clicks it to check the time of departure, and seethes when he realises the flight is in 2 hours. Jeongin wasn’t kidding when he said ‘now’.

He takes a moment to compose himself, already trying to work through his argument in his head, and starts to gather his belongings, turning on the lights again. They’re strewn out everywhere; wallet on the bench, clothes folded on the couch, composing gear in the studio, paperwork in the office. He rubs his face vigorously in his hands as he tries to fit them all nicely into his suitcase and travel bags.

“Chris…?” you yawn, head peeking tiredly out of your room. His heart cracks as he looks up at your drowsy state, unsure about how he should tell you he had to leave. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry,” he sighs, standing up gingerly, his knees cracking, “try and go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up later.”

He gulps as you take in his gathered belongings, but your dazed expression doesn’t change. “You weren’t planning on leaving without saying goodbye were you?” you mumble, walking over with a stretch and hugging him with a squeeze. Chris’ breath catches in his throat, and he wraps his arms securely around you. If only he could freeze time.

“I’d never do that to you, I just didn’t mean to wake you,” he sighs, swaying the pair of you gently. “What time’s your flight?” you pull away from him with wide eyes, fully awake now. Chris’ jaw clenches, and he pulls out his phone to check the current time. “In one and a half hours.” “They couldn’t have given you more time?” you grimace, stepping away from him to pick up his possessions and start packing.

“Apparently not.” After a minute of watching your silent movements, he goes back to packing, heart simultaneously swelling and shattering. He knows you’re thrown off by his sudden departure, a few days earlier than scheduled. He can tell by the way you zone out frequently as you pass him his clothes. He can tell by the way you stare absently at his laptop. He can tell by your carefully controlled expression, displaying no sadness, but a forced strength. 

Chris doesn’t have to take everything that belongs to him. He returns as often as he can, so by this point he has his own toiletries here, his own drawer of clothes, his favourite snacks and drinks in the kitchen. He just wishes he didn’t have to leave his favourite belonging. You.

After another 15 minutes, he’s fully packed and he’s sitting on the couch with you tucked safely in his arms, basking in your warmth, but a little terrified in the fragility of the silence. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” You nod, knowing ‘as soon’ could mean anything from two weeks to six months. “Don’t worry about anything okay? I promise… everything will be okay. JYP can’t do anything to my career, he needs me – and I’m going to use that as leverage.”

You nod again, mind on a completely different train of thought. “I’m not going to lose you, I swear. I’m never going to let you go.” He takes his words quite literally this time.

He almost missed his flight. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> PART 6　 -> Masterlist

A/N: Yay…? Milestone Event 5 Check…?

Feedback is always appreciated, negative and positive alike. I apologise for any editing errors, I’m forever learning.

Until next read… - Kaisowoo

[undergroundkdrama]

#KDRAMAWOMENSWEEK 2023 | March 8th – 15th  2023

[alternatively: a week and one day to talk about and make things for women you appreciate in celebration of International Women’s Day] Inspired by @evansbrewster that’s no longer on Tumblr.com.

@kdramaladies will be hosting the event as well. I’ll reblog where I can and try to be present. Prompts courtesy of @dramaheroine who has dont 99.9999% of getting this week to happen, prompts and more, thanks so much. Gifs courtesy of @cuddlybitch, @haeyeongs and @orangesyellow. Thank you all so so much. Thank you to everyone that checks in about this when I am sure I’ll be sitting it out. KWW has been happening for eight years, this being the ninth which is nuts.

Please tag your posts #kdramawomensweek and/or @undergroundkdrama so they are easier to find, admire, and reblog.

Day 1: In Her Head

Women with rich inner worlds, full of hidden thoughts, desires and fantasies. Are her thoughts being revealed to the viewers in visually exciting ways? Think dream sequences, a touch of magical realism, voiceovers, a cut to a talking head or perhaps weird little animated cells…

Day 2: “It” Girl

2021 was all about Haves and Haves Not x2000. 2022 was the year of women in the legal profession. Tell us which of the characters fitting this year’s trend you have enjoyed the most and why. What made them better than the rest? Or what else do you think has been a popular theme/genre/topic for 2022 dramas? How did women fit into the equation? Here are a few examples: gangsters, “behind the scenes”, school violence, countryside living etc.

Day 3: The Help

Women holding everything together in the background, women who have to do all the dirty work, who do thankless labour regardless of the setting or time period. Servants, secretaries, domestic staff, cleaners, nurses, nannies, care workers, housewives…Let’s put some time aside to ‘celebrate those who don’t celebrate’ because they are too busy keeping things running.

Day 4: Bad Girls Club

Everyone loves an angst filled, angry revenge drama so lets talk about the women who seek revenge? Women who hold grudges and whose hearts are filled with rage. Women who hurt others (knowingly and unknowingly). Women who seek power over others and/or themselves in cruel ways. A day for celebrating women’s wrongs.

Day 5: Recommend Her!

Choose your fave – give us a Top 10 that you think she’d make e.g. Spotify Wrapped, her 2023 reading list, her watchlist. Personally, I think that Lee Yeo Reum from Summer Strike listens to a playlist like this (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3yrqVOEnwQG4z8czX8qD4k?si=36e45bbaeaad4892) as she walks around the village trying to make sense of who she is and what she wants. Today’s a day for projecting and recommending. Sneak your recs in here.

Day 6: Funny Girl Woman

We know women are funny, here’s your time to show love to the actresses who predominately act in comedies, female characters who you find hilarious and actresses who provide the perfect comedic relief every time they pop up onscreen.

Day 7: Lee Yoon Jung/Noh Hee Kyung OR Surprise!

Two pioneering women behind many of our classic favourite dramas. Think of this as a space for tributes to them, what you love about their dramas, Lee Yoon Jung’s direction, Noh Hee Kyung’s writing, your favourite female characters from their dramas… OR  Your favourite cameos by actresses! Who used their tiny bit of screen time in the best way possible?!

Day 8: Timeslip

What if time travel really existed? What if two female characters from different dramas, from different tv eras could meet? How are they connected? Why should they meet? Think of this as an opportunity for you to travel back in time.

Please also feel free to be inspired by the prompts from previous years (2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2020 Part Deux, 2021, 2022).

[thislovintime]

Ann Moses with Peter Tork (plus Jimmy Page and Micky Dolenz) in the 1960s and in the 2010s.

“Peter Tork was not your typical teen idol. He was a musician first, and a genuine peace-and-love hippie the rest of the time. [...] [When he died] the world lost a kind, talented man. [...] After Peter and producer Bob Rafelson were inspired by the video tricks they had seen other bands use at The Fillmore in San Francisco, the Monkees made their political statement by including slide shows with scenes from the civil rights movement on huge black-and-white screens behind them as they performed.  [...] His sincerity was true Peter. Never lived a rock-star lifestyle. He always smiled the brightest on the stage. That is his legacy. [...] [When I last saw him,] he seemed fulfilled and happy to be making music with his group, Shoe Suede Blues, and preserving his family home in Connecticut with his loved ones close by.” - Ann Moses, CNN, February 22, 2019

“Behind the scenes, they would joke with one another, and, you know, I’d see them ad-lib in some of the episodes. I would find out that it was a much more casual set than some of the other TV shows I ended up going to. […] They did what they felt like doing. When they — something would come into their minds, it would be, you know, they’d try that out, and half the time the director would say, That’s a take. The Monkees were just like no one else, and so those times on the set, it really gave me a chance to just see all the creativity that came out of these four extremely talented young men. […] Dave Clark and Jimmy Page would say, ‘Can you get us on the Monkees set?’ Because they knew I was out there all the time. And I would say, ‘Yeah, I can.’ And so I’d call up, I’d make the arrangements, and so… when Jimmy Page, when he went out to the set, I mean, he was just like gaga. And it was so cool, he just had so much fun watching the show. And so that was a different one. He was just a fan. And of course that made The Monkees just feel so good, because they, you know, the first year, they were fighting the battle of: do they play their instruments? Are they really musicians? And here a musician that they admired, from the UK, was excited about them. So it was very validating and made them feel really good. […] As I got to know Peter, he treated me with such respect, as if I were a peer. And in a way I was. But, you know, to me, I’m the new girl at the magazine, I’m in there less than a year, but he’s treating me like this has been my profession for years. And still I’m nineteen years old at this point. But I think Peter was rewarded in that when we would talk about whatever it was with him — whether he was doing yoga and he was talking about the Book of Tao, I would write as he would tell me these stories. It wasn’t like I’d go, ‘Well, we’re not putting that in Tiger Beat.’ Because as I was getting to know the real Peter, then so were the readers. And that — that was my goal. And so he was always just a very considerate, thoughtful person, and, you know, a pleasure to be around. He would [give me feedback on articles as he read them]. Like I would take out… like, I just came across an article that I had written about a day on the set with Peter. I said, ‘Hey, guys, here’s the newest Monkee Spectacular.’ And Peter’s looking through it, and he goes, ‘You spelled this wrong.’ And I said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll correct it,’ you know. And he found a couple of other — you know, whether it was a typo or some word I’d gotten wrong. But I wouldn’t let it happen twice. It was like correcting your essay for the teacher. It was like, well, he’s not gonna catch me in a mistake again. So it made it really fun. And of course, he didn’t do it in a mean way. It’s just that, hey, we were talking about a serious subject and you made a mistake, and… and that was Peter. […] Peter did a story when he quit, and told me why. And do I know if he was being honest with me? You know, I don’t know, but it was the story that he wanted to put out, and he had been so open and honest the whole time, I didn’t think anything about it. […] By this time he was, you know, with Reine, and they got a place in the valley, had a nice pool. But when I went to the door, um, Peter opened the door and welcome me in, and of course, he was in the nude. And he said, Our house is clothing optional, if you’d like to, you know, disrobe, or I don’t know the word he used. But he said, If you’d like to join us, you’re welcome to. But there was a mixture there at the house. There were some people with clothes on, and some people with clothes off, and they were jumping in the pool. It was not something that fazed me in the slightest, so — you just gotta learn to look them in the eye. [As for Peter’s demeanor post-leaving The Monkees] He was very mellow. I mean, at that point in time, and, you know, I know he had struggles afterward because he had bought his contract out. But at that point in time, he just seemed comfortable in his skin, and he was talking about, you know, the new group [Release], and he just seemed to be, yes, unburdened, I think I would say at that point. He just, he was the chill Peter that you sometimes would see, just like he had just gotten up from meditating and he was as chill as he could be. And it seemed very natural for him. […] Often when I would interview Peter, he would tell me, you know, ‘I really want you to try LSD.’ And I’d tell him, ‘Oh, I’m afraid, I’m afraid I’ll have a bad trip.’ And he goes, ‘No, no, I’ll take care of you, I’ll make sure you have a good trip, you just — it’s such a great experience.’ And I was always really too chicken, I was just afraid of, well, what if I’m really out of control and I freak out? And so I never took him up on his offer. And then when we had our reunion in 2017, I said, ‘Peter, do you remember when you used to get me to try LSD?’ And he said, ‘Oh, Annie, you didn’t miss a thing.’ And, you know, after all the experiences that he had been through, it was that same kind of looking out for me type approach, it was like, ‘Oh, it’s just as well you didn’t,’ and it — he was, he was still being that kind of mentor to me, and it was just… it was so touching, I just couldn’t believe it after all those years, and still there was that closeness there. It was a really, really wonderful moment that I’m so, so glad I got to experience before he passed away.” - Ann Moses, The Monkees Pad Show no. 10, 2022

[molluskmirage]

((so idk, theres things I don’t understand and views I hold))

i am going to be rambling about my grief/frustration about the admin situation on the qsmp.

since im not behind the scenes and am not business savvy I really am trying to keep tentatively optimistic and open minded but I do have some strong opinions.

my thoughts/they may not be right/naive:

qsmp is of a nature and scale that to me should have NEVER had volunteers. ever. Its not charity work it’s entertainment. Streamers are making thousands by being there and to have those working alongside, the same or more work, to ensure the success and playability for both cc’s and audience members, doing so for free, Out of the love and passion in their hearts-It is difficult to wrap my head around. art, writing, and acting are so poorly paid professions but to have a project of this scale with so much money ‘around’ but not to half of those that make it so……

((this topic means a lot to me, I do not like seeing people taken advantage of (particularly young people as its rampant) and I was also taken advantage of to the point of illness and homelessness))

to me now here’s where my complete ignorance is (perhaps quackity had already paid or believed his workers were paid so had nothing when the time came) but to me having discovered this situation everyone should be paid living wage for this month, even when firing or letting go, then releasing merch to be able to afford back pay. Then everyone should be on a salary based pay.

maybe they’re handling it in a way I don’t understand/have access to info but what I do know is that many admins are in limbo without pay which also makes me feel incredibly uneasy. The stress and anxiety that state can cause, many were already working for free anyway but now there still unpaid in a state their not even sure they can do what made things enjoyable.

I am passionate about people getting paid for the work they do. I don’t believe people are cartoonishly evil, people can be sneaky and greedy at times though, theres a lot that cc’s have to know to navigate, and theres also a lot that others have to know as well. Theres a lot that happens bts and a lot of context and full picture things I dont have access to but there are things I know from experience and there have been alarming and unacceptable things from even the little info we have had. Again I am sympathetic to how that can happen but the fact is it still happened, people got hurt, they are hurting. An accident can be an accident but that still doesn’t mean that damage is not done.

monetary value gets thrown around a lot in talks, which is deeply the root of the issue, but theres so much psychological non-physical issues that are hugely linked to those issues as well. The stress that working for little or free on something you feel is important and are passionate about. Its a huge toll.

I do believe that things have the potential to be handled with grace, will it happen is simply the question and hope.

[acacia-may]

Here is a fruit basket 🍎🍊🍋🍏

Aww thank you so much, Little Fan! 🥰

🍎 Is there anything you straight-up won’t write?

I will not write anything NSFW. It's just not for me. I'm the most vanilla person to have ever vanilla-ed (and actually get all blushy even writing about a couple kissing, which is why they often just don't in my stories even when they are technically romance. 😅 My sister often teases me that I can really only write one (1) kiss scene which is basically just a line like "And then they kissed." 🙈 I have been trying to prove her wrong and write a little more kissing into my stories but I'll never be the type to write anything steamy. It's just not my personal cup of tea).

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

I answered this here if you want the full discussion, but long story short poor Gordon. I never did finish that story wip in his POV and feel like I really dropped the ball with him even though he was always one of my favorites. (Sorry Gordon!)

I've always wanted to write more Walter too--just kind of diving into Rill's relationship with him as more of a father figure than just a butler and especially how Walter is totally going to step in as "Grandpa" if/when Rillmy ever has kids. ^^

🍋 What’s your favorite spicier trope to write?

Again I am beyond vanilla and don't write anything spicy ever, but (and I'm about to embarrass myself here...) my sister swears the spiciest thing I have ever written is a line in which the POV character remembers a multilingual character unwittingly switching languages during a particularly (ahem) heated moment.

And I do like that trope 😳 (though not just in a spicy way!!) [which is why I put that line in there (even though nothing happened on screen in this fic, I swear 🙈)]. As a linguistics major, I've always been fascinated with the science behind the multilingual brain and how it has actually been proven that multilingual people will unconsciously switch languages especially when expressing something with a deep and/or passionate emotion behind it. In this particular instance, this character actually professed his love in Spanish which (at least for him) meant more than expressing it in English because he used "Te Amo" which is a really intense "I love you" (for like your immediate family or your spouse or your soulmate) rather than "Te Quiero" which is more of a general "I love you" for everyone else (i.e. less close family, friends, people you're casually dating ect.). Whereas in English there's only one word for love so it gets overused and its multiple meanings/uses can easily get misinterpreted.

I think my sister's point in saying this is my spiciest line (beyond just poking fun at me for being vanilla & this not being very spicy at all) is that this was an intimate thing to say and this character chose to say this very intimate thing during a heated moment which in itself was intimate therefore making the whole thing even more intimate (or, you know, spicy). But that's about as much as I can do in terms of spicy tropes, I think. 🙈

🍏 Is there something you overuse, whether it’s a certain phrase, trope, or piece of punctuation?

I definitely overuse em-dashes. I usually write "stream of consciousness" so my sentences just run on and on and on. I should probably try to shorten them or at least vary the structure now and then. 😅

I think I also overuse certain phrases specific to whichever character I'm writing (especially if they are the POV character). For instance, Vanessa winks a lot, Langris' mouth twitches in the corners (to show that he's actually having a good time in spite of himself), Finral sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, or my most recent pitfall something aches in Hero's chest every couple of sentences (because he's sad 😔), and I have to edit those out. It's hard for me not to fall into the habit of using the same descriptors for the same characters over and over again.

[pikachu78109]

I have so many nitpicks of the 2005 remake of The Cabinet of Dr Caligari that I just had to make another post about this. Enjoy!

During the scene as Franzis is watching Caligari and “Cesare” sleep, he has a gun. Tf? Like, I sort of understand why he has it, but at this point in the story, nobody has really pinned Caligari and Cesare for the murders. I mean, they are suspects but, y’know, innocent until proven guilty. Then, Franzis contemplates taking his own life, which comes out of nowhere. This occurs due to the endless use of foreshadowing surrounding Franzis and this decision where he begins to turn the gun on himself took me by surprise. He doesn’t do it, but it still made me do a double take. I know this scene is suppose to increase tension, but I found this bit really uncomfortable and unnecessary. The original had Franzis do a stake out, no weapons at all on his person. So the choice for 2005 Franzis to have a gun just comes out of nowhere.

Jane accepts Franzis’ marriage proposal. This really didn’t need to happen and I know that this is all in Franzis’ head, but regardless, Jane accepting Franzis’ marriage proposal was really unnecessary. I mean, he does so AFTER ALAN’S FUNERAL. Bro couldn’t fucking wait a few days to pop the question and asking right after Alan’s burial has me detest this Franzis even more. Jane shouldn’t have accepted the proposal as I feel like it interrupts this somber moment by inserting this “romance” between the two to be solidified.

I’ve touched on the dialogue in my last post, but I need to mention the acting. Part of the reason why I enjoy the original 1920 film and have rewatched it many times is because of the acting. Given that the original is a silent film, the acting really pushes the narrative with its cast of characters theatrical performance. I could understand what the characters are doing just by their acting alone. The remake presents a very dull and lifeless performance that it’s almost depressing. None of the characters give a good performance because, along with the spoken dialogue, is flat and almost comical. I couldn’t take any of the characters seriously. I suppose the only character whose acting was okay to an extent would be Cesare since there’s not much they added to his character that I could pin point.

They tried to humanize Caligari so much. This guy would be the last person that I would ever want to see get some kind of backstory fleshed out. Obviously Caligari is the titular mad man who’s obsessed with fulfilling this dark urge to control someone to carry out murder, which is pretty diabolical. The original does this too by displaying Caligari as someone whom you don’t want to mess with. This is the same man who commanded Cesare to kill the town clerk because bro had the audacity to tell him to wait. The 2005 film, for some reason, attempts to flesh out his character by having him come up with weak BS reasons to explain why he does the things he does. I don’t think Caligari needs to explain to anyone his schemes because I believe he’s someone who doesn’t have to. What strikes me as odd would how this remake has him detailing his profession as a psychiatrist to Franzis and Jane, which I don’t think matters. What matters to me would be the implications behind what Caligari does and a lot of people speculate on Caligari and Cesare’s dynamic within the film and outside of it. Also, the remake brushes away Caligari’s descent into his obsession by making it a single scene which takes away the gravity of the character as a whole. You don’t see him spiral into madness; it just happens in a very sudden (and silly) way.

Okay, this one just happens to be a silly nitpick but the way Cesare touches Jane. I literally felt myself squirm when I saw that; it just looked so awkward and uncomfortable. To compare, the original scene had Cesare sort of hover over Jane with his arm extend outward and he lowers it slowly to touch her. It’s still creepy, but it racks up the tension. Looking into it further, the way that Cesare precedes to lower his hand presents an air of curiosity on his part. Like, there’s this pretty chick who’s so delicate that he hesitates to kill and, at least for a moment, breaks his master’s commands. At least that’s how I interpreted it. Here, in the remake, Cesare tucks a strand of Jane’s hair behind her ear and caresses her cheek, lowering his head in the process. Like, bro you need to back up! It’s so creepy and weird and it just makes Cesare less of a looming threat and more of a horny teenager. This scene, in my opinion, feels so much like a bad fanfic that someone wrote out because [insert reason here].

Jane’s brother kills Cesare. I don’t have in depth complaint about this. The fact that the film needed to have someone kill Cesare is just the laziest thing that I’ve seen.

For the most part, the costuming looks decent but Jane’s outfit really doesn’t seem to fit her overall character. The original film had Jane dress that made her appear both alluring but ladylike. Elegant yet down to earth and her outfits reflect that image. With the remake, Jane is dressed in a way where it’s distracting, at least to me. This is especially true when she’s sleeping and you get these up close shots of her figure and, I don’t know, I think the choice of posing and costuming really highlights how the remake wants you to see Jane: less of a character and more of an object.

Franzis was VERY aggressive in the remake to point where I couldn’t really root for him (didn’t root for anyone at all). The original presented Franzis as someone who’s upset but persisted in finding answers without trying to pick any fights that would jeopardize the investigation. He worked with law enforcement and Dr. Olsen to get something out of Caligari without being overly aggressive. The remake had Franzis take on a bad cop persona and had him be on edge constantly. He jumps to conclusions without considering other suspects involved, which the original Franzis does. Now, that doesn’t mean he accepts it. It’s him questioning whether or not if what he believes to be true and he seeks to figure it out by doing a stake out by watching Caligari and “Cesare” in the hopes that he’s proven right or wrong in his assumptions. The remakes just reaffirms Franzis’ belief that Caligari is the one who committed the murders without even taking into account of other possibilities. Once again, he brings a gun proving that he’s a person who would shoot first and ask questions never.

This entire film condescends the audience so, so much. It talks down to the audience and answers so many questions by over-explaining things, never once allowing the audience to interpret anything or come up with their own conclusions. I really didn’t appreciate that the film had to handhold me throughout the story and feels like the remake couldn’t even trust itself with the original film’s open ended nature.

[wolfprincesszola]

The Fate of the Marked Six Chapter 9

still busy asf to the point where these updates may be later on in the day but enjoy <3. as always, reblogs and likes are appreciated! ——————– Summary: Virgil moves into a new town and meets Roman, a ghost that he promises to help in finding the unfinished business needed to pass over. However, Roman's past seemed to be deeply muddled with trouble, an uncurable disease that has started to affect a classmate, and a certain tight-lipped valedictorian. Friendships are made and Virgil finds himself thrown into a situation far more complicated and twisted than he signed up. Hopefully, with the help of his new five friends, he can find a way to bring peace to the town once and for all.

Trigger Warning: None

Content Warning: Swearing

<Masterlist>

<Previous> <Next> ——————–

Chapter 09

Patton was sitting on his couch with Logan.How did the two get there? He didn’t know.

They were watching a movie. What movie? He couldn’t tell you because he was too focused by Logan leaning his head against his chest. He had his arm around him. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, almost praying that Logan couldn’t hear it. What was happening? Why was he so comfortable with him? Why was he so nervous around him?

The movie said something that was almost incomprehensible if it wasn’t for the iconic line that was said. “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”

Patton looked down at Logan, who at the same time, looked up at Patton. Then, Logan smiled. Not the smile he often gave to Patton when he was annoyed or tired. Not the smile he faked for professions in front of others. It was a genuine smile that he had never seen his do. It was a smile that caused his eyes to crinkle at the side and a smile that showed his teeth. Logan's laughter rang in Patton's ears and Patton was addicted to the sound. Although it was the first time he heard it, he promised himself he would make it his life goal to hear it every chance he got.

His heart skipped as soon as he saw the smile, but what really got him was the look in Logan's eyes. He had never seen Logan look at someone like that before. Logan looked at Patton with pure love, as if he would never love anyone else the way he did Patton.

Then, Patton sat up in bed. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he groaned, staring at his bed. It was just a dream. That was all it was going to be, and he waved it off. Whatever that was, it was weird, and something that would never come true. He didn’t even like Logan like that.

-+=~=+-

"Hi Remus!" Patton smiled, seeing Remus approach Virgil and him.

"Hey, Patton. Still got that bitch up your asshole?"

Patton let confusion roam his face, "I don't have a dog up my butthole..."

"No, he's talking about Logan." Virgil sighed, rubbing his temples, "Remus, Patton's too innocent to get that type of joke."

"I'll just keep making jokes until they stick." Remus grinned as the three started walking to their first period, which they all had together.

“Uh huh.” Virgil drawled out, “Did you guys do the math homework?”

“Not at all.” Remus snorted, “That’s what first period is for. To do the math homework.”

“I did.” Patton offered, “Just not well. I don’t know what I was thinking when I did it because I calculated 2 + 2 to be 27.”

“Oh jeez, I’m stuck with the dumb people--no offense, Pat. I’m going to go ask Janus.” Virgil moved towards the boy, leaving Remus and Patton to be alone in the hallways together.

Patton hesitated on the topic of Remus, as he had known something was going on behind the scenes. Still, he asked, hoping that for once, Remus wouldn't say anything inappropriate.

“How are you doing?” Patton asked Remus, “You seem…on edge recently.”

"I'm fine! In fact, I thought the other day about how Woody should've said there was a snake up his butthole because that would've been funnier."

Yep. That was on Patton for assuming Remus was going to be serious.

"Really?"

Then, the facade crumbled from Remus' face and Patton saw a side of the boy he had never seen before. This side of Remus seemed more vulnerable, more honest. "Honestly? I haven't been feeling too great. I’ve been hearing some things that I don’t know if they are real or fake. No one has any clear answers, and I feel like if I tell anyone that doesn’t have powers, they’ll just think I’m insane.”

"Oh, Remus. The people you surround yourself with love you. There's nothing you could say to make your friends think you're insane. I mean I already think it's insane that I live in a world where everyone has powers except for a select few. I think you're already insane for half the stuff you say, but I'm not going anywhere."

Remus was surprised by that answer by the sheer mouth agape he had. He pushed his mouth to close before he let himself catch up to Patton, "Record scratch? Patton admits he thinks I'm insane."

"Of course in a good way!" Patton tried to correct himself, "I think it's crazy that you have powers overall!"

“You…know I have powers?” Remus asked.

“Why, of course! I told you that I know when others have powers already." Patton giggled, “You just gotta know what you look for in the auras of magic people, and then you know when someone doesn’t or has powers.”

"Then doesn't that mean that you have magic?"

"Don't be silly. I haven't shown any signs of it."

"Logan told me that only magic users know when other users have magic.”

Patton thought about it before shrugging, "I don't know, kiddo. I know Logan's so smart and everything, but I think I would know if I had magic. I mean look at me. I don’t have anything magic in me.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, but waved it off, deciding he would tell Patton what else has been bothering him. “Apparently, there’s a ghost that’s following me around.”

“Oh? Is it the ghost that’s Virgil’s friend?” Patton raised an eyebrow.

“You know he’s a medium?”

“I mean, it was pretty obvious.”

Remus scoffed, “Moving on, it’s not Virgil’s friend, but…I’m just on edge. I don’t know what to do and how to help myself.”

“Ah, I see.” Patton sighed, staring at Remus, “I think, right now, you’re stressing yourself too much.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. You’re saying that Virgil’s handling it?”

“Yeah.”

“Then trust him.” Patton gave Remus a small smile right as the warning bell rang, “Now come on, let’s go to class before we’re late.”

-+=~=+-

Patton walked into his 3rd period, only to be met with the sweet smell of hot chocolate and marshmallows.

“Welcome, welcome! Take your seats!” His teacher yelled at the front of the class, with a lot of mugs of hot chocolate at the front.

“That smells so good.” Janus groaned, “I really hope he gives us the mugs. I’d love one.”

“Me too.” Patton murmured as he sat down at the table he shared with Janus.

He sat down, staring at the hot chocolate.

All of a sudden, Logan walked through the door, a timid smile on his face. The feelings he felt after the dream he had during the weekend rushed back to him, as he remembered every detail he dreamed of. His heart dropped as he stared at Logan.

Shit.

“Hey, Mr. Lonesins, did you still want me to drop off the boxes over here?”

“Oh yes, Logan, thank you so much.”

Logan nodded, “It’s my pleasure.”

Before he could leave to grab the boxes though, Patton called Logan over, “Sanders!”

Logan looked towards the sound of his voice, walking over, “What do you want, Morris? I can’t physically give you another hour of detention, when you have yet to make up the last 20.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you had a third period.”

“Unlike you, I arrive at my third period early. I TA, and since I had no work, he said I should come over here to help.” Logan rolled his eyes, “Now focus on the class and maybe if you’re good, I’ll give you extra marshmallows.”

“You're my favorite person, Lo.” Patton gasped in excitement, brushing the flush on his face as just redness from the cold when Logan left.

“You’re being weird today.” Janus remarked, but said nothing else. Patton was glad that he didn’t bring anything else up when Patton didn't even know what was going on.

The entire class period, he found himself blushing at the sight of Logan, and had to look away every time he made eye contact with him.

At the end of the lesson, Patton found oddly messy notes, unlike what he usually took. Logan came by at the end of the class period to help pass out the mugs, and after he finished, he asked who wanted extra marshmallows, immediately everyone raised their hands, and Logan went over to Patton first.

“Since you were good.” Logan remarked, giving him three extra ones before passing the other ones out, only giving them two.

“You’re special.” Janus smirked at him.

Oh stars, he really hoped he wasn’t.

-+=~=+-

“So…you’ve been weird. What’s going on?” Virgil asked, on their walk towards the cafeteria. Having Janus and Remus always be there early to get his lunch meant that he could always wait for Patton who was in the classroom right across from him.

“What do you mean?”

“Janus has noticed it too. He told me you were being super smiley today, and not annoying Logan as much as you normally do.”

Patton flushed, “Okay, maybe I just think that he could use a break from me bugging him.”

“But you’re Patton Morris, the infamous class clown.”

“Infamous?”

“Infamous, in Logan’s view. Famous for everyone else.”

“Ah. Makes sense….I don’t know. I think it was that I had a talk with him, and a part of me felt bad that he knew so much about me, but I don’t know anything about him.”

“It’s okay. I don’t think anyone knows a lot about him….but honestly? I think you’re lying to me, and even yourself. Are you sure there’s no other underlying reason?”

“No.” Patton was fast to assert it.

“Wow, feisty today.” Virgil remarked, “Come on, even if you can’t trust anyone, don’t you think it’d be nice to get it off your chest?”

Patton sighed before snapping, an idea coming to fruition, “You know what I can do? Tell your ghost friend, Roman.”

It was a good idea. It would give Patton a chance to let it off his chest, but not to tell someone that knew him personally.

“What?” Virgil raised an eyebrow, “You can’t even see him. You wouldn’t even know if he’s here right now.”

“The problem is the thing that’s haunting my thoughts right now is the thing I can’t tell people who know anyone in this high school. Your friend doesn’t.” Patton spoke, hoping that Virgil might believe him. Patton wouldn't even know how to start talking about his issue even if he could talk to Virgil about it.

Was he falling in love with Logan after just one dream? Was love too strong of a word? What was Logan to Patton?

It made his brain hurt.

Virgil sighed, “Fine, I’ll set up a meeting…as long as you tell me all you got on Roman, because I remembered you promising me that you’d find resources on who he might be.”

“Yeah, so good news and bad news.”

“What?”

“No one shows up with the whole Roman 'died a few months ago’ and ‘has a brother’ Sanders, but interesting enough, there’s no results of him dying a few months ago. There were more than 10 Roman Sanders who had a brother, but I didn’t want to look through all their information. Then, I remembered who else’s last name is Sanders and had a brother, and started working backwards from him.”

“Logan? I thought of him too, but it just doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t talk about his brother, but Logan's brother is 4 years older and Logan talks about him like he didn’t die. Besides, he's adopted or something.” Virgil remarked. "I learned about it through context clues."

Patton seemed to come to a revelation, “He’s adopted!”

It caused everyone else to look at him weirdly, and Virgil pulled his hood over his face in embarrassment from the attention.

“Yeah, so I look at our one and only Logan, and find out that in his family, he has had a brother named Roman Sanders. Roman died almost 4 years ago, and he died when he was 17, a few months before he was supposed to graduate with a high school diploma at this school. He was the valedictorian, but just a few months ago, an exhibit at the art museum was dedicated to him as an exhibit. A statue in the park was built for him months after he died. Then, I go back to the Roman Sanders, instead only checking the Romans who died in the past ten years, and jackpot, I find only 3. Only two of them have brothers, and only one of them died at a young age, as I’m assuming you aren’t really talking about an 80-year-old. That one Roman is the boy that stands at the legacy of this school with the personality of a sun.” Patton grinned triumphantly.

“So what you’re saying is that we’re dealing with having to talk to the most difficult person to open up and talk about his brother, who he forbade us from talking about?”

“Well…when you say it like that-“

“That’s what I thought. We’re going to have a bit more trouble then.” Virgil gave a sharp inhale.

“Sorry, kiddo. That's all I can do.” Patton shrugged.

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for finding all this out anyways.” Virgil sighed.

Patton nodded, as they walked into the cafeteria, “Listen, I’ll try to weasel as much information out of our valedictorian as much as possible.”

“Uh huh, good luck with that.”

-+=~=+-

Patton was sitting at the lunch tables after school when a composition notebook hit the back of his head hard. It made a sound and he let out an audible “OW!” despite not being hurt in the slightest.

He turned towards the person who hit him only for them to walk over to the front of him, slamming the composition notebook down.

“Stop being weird.”

Patton blinked, still rubbing the back of his head as he looked at the person. It was Logan and he didn’t look too amused with him.

“Sorry?”

“Stop being weird.” Logan repeated again, sitting on the other side of the table from him.

Patton looked at the composition book to see at the top it said “Patton Morris” in Logan’s neat handwriting.

“How am I being weird? You're the one that hit me in the head with a notebook, Logan! What is this?”

Logan huffed, flipping open the book to a page that was clearly the most referenced page. At the top, it was labeled “Statistics” and Patton scanned through the rest of the information quickly.

Logan pointed to a couple of the lines, “You, on average, pass by me 12 times a day. You, on average, call out my name upon passing me 9 times a day. You, on average, have 19 interactions with me. You, on average, manage to annoy me 5 of the interactions we have. Even on good days, you bring those numbers to 12, 20, 9, and 3.”

“Okay?” Patton raised an eyebrow.

“Today, you have passed by me 15 times, and have called my name once. Even in the three interactions we’ve had today, you haven’t even spoken a word about what you normally would annoy me about.”

“Do you miss it? I mean I can-”

“No. It’s not the same when you try to annoy me because you think you’re acting weird. It’s never been the same!” Logan huffed, flipping to another page, that clearly tracked all the days he was being off and the reason why.

“Why do you care?” Patton snorted, “I thought you hated me annoying you.”

“I do! That’s what doesn’t make sense.” Logan groaned, standing up and starting to pace around, “Every fiber of my being despises you with a passion. I get so mad when I think of everything you do, and how you always are making me clean up your messes. I think I’m done with everything you do, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that maybe you’re not so bad! You do things like staying to help me clean up my mess, and yell at the hallways to stop talking shit about people they don’t know, and you genuinely respect me, which is something I don’t get from most parents, adults, and students. It frustrates me that you make me feel this way, that I hate you, but I also am the furthest thing from an enemy. Just…tell me what’s going on, so I can just mark it off as another weird day, and then I won’t have to stay awake at night, wondering what I did wrong or what happened with your life, so I can just pretend like things are okay.”

“Lo-” Patton began before Logan interrupted him again, going to sit down to interrogate him.

“Is this because you don’t know anything about me? Is it because I don’t open up about my brother? Is this because of my parents? What is it?”

Patton stared as he watched the boy freak out about the idea of not having Patton talk to him for a day, and a part of Patton got closure of where he stood with Logan. He just let out a laugh.

“What?” Logan stopped his ranting to stare at Patton.

“You’re kinda obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

Logan made a face, scowling, “What are you talking about?”

“Normal people don’t have composition books marking everything I’ve ever done to you.”

“Oh, don’t think you’re so special. I have folders on everyone I’ve interacted with in the school too.” Logan crossed his arms.

“Normal people don’t have that either.” Patton chuckled endearingly. “Normal people also don’t get driven crazy by someone not talking to them, or not annoying them.”

“I’ve always been told I’m not normal.” Logan mumbled, looking away.

“You’re being a little too obsessive right now. I’m fine.” Patton smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I’m just trying a different method of being your friend right now, and it seems like it’s driving you crazy, so maybe I’ll go back.”

“No, no, I kinda like this better.” Logan shook his head, “It’s just that….you really helped me out through my toughest times. I hated how annoying you kept being, but that sense of familiarity really helped me during a time of change where everything around me shifted. I don’t think I’m ready to let go of the only thing keeping me sane yet, and I guess I’m scared that you’re going to stop being my frenemy.”

“I won’t ever stop.” Patton promised him.

“Thank you.” Logan gave a weak smile.

“So…was that your first time being vulnerable and not robotic?"

“It’s so hard.” Logan groaned, slumping in the picnic tables, “My obsessive thinking kept my mind running all day, and it’s tiring.”

“Awe, I was in your mind all day.” Patton teased.

“Shut it, Morris.”

Patton looked at Logan, who seemed almost relieved that Patton was talking to him again. Patton hesitated with his next words, making sure to think about them carefully.

“...you mentioned your brother, but you never like to talk about him. What happened?”

Logan’s face shifted to a melancholic expression, “...he died four years ago, and I have yet to forgive myself for letting him die.”

“Oh come on, you couldn’t have known that he would’ve died.”

“But I did.” Logan sat up, “I have the powers of precognition and months before he died, I kept having the same recurring nightmare of him driving and being hit by a drunk driver. Even an hour beforehand, I had the nightmare, and I told my parents, but they just waved it off. I don’t think my parents looked so angry after they found out my brother died.”

“Oh, Logan...you were what? 13 years old at the time? You couldn’t have possibly been asked to understand at that young age what it felt like to lose someone, who I’m guessing was really important to you.”

“He was so important to me.” Logan murmured, “I remember I spent the following two years after he died just trying to do everything I could towards safe driving, and donating all of his stuff. He said he wanted to make a difference in the world, so…I tried to make his wishes come true.”

“Have you ever tried to contact him through a medium?”

“I researched everything there was to be about ghosts, but I knew that a medium couldn’t do much if he wasn’t a ghost near this area. Most mediums are people who can see the ghosts around them. Besides, when he died, he and I were in a fight. I doubt that even if I wanted to find my brother, he would want the same.” Logan’s eyes portrayed a sense of hurt and regret that he had been clearly holding in for a long time, “I just…wish I had more time with him. I was adopted when I was 6. I wasn’t close with him until I was 8. I barely even got 5 years with him.”

Patton saw tears prick the edges of Logan's eyes for the first time and he was left speechless without words. Still, he forced something out, his voice hoarse, "I'm sorry."

“He’s the reason I’m the valedictorian now. I thought that maybe, I could fill the hole in my parents’ hearts. I thought maybe I’d get to know him more if I became the valedictorian. Except I don’t. Now, all I feel is emptiness. I feel more disconnected with him now than before. I stopped feeling sad or angry or anything really. for my brother and for my life"

“What would you give to see him again? Just at least once.”

“Everything.” Logan whispered and Patton knew what he had to do.

Logan stood up, grabbing the composition notebook, sighing, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Patton. Promise me you won’t be weird?”

“I’ll try my best.” Patton remarked.

Logan was cute, maybe even handsome. He was smart, and funny. he was genuine to Patton, and even when he was vulnerable, Logan still trusted Patton with all the information he normally wouldn’t trust anyone with. Although Logan was obsessive with his actions, maybe Patton could look past it. However, until he found out what he really felt with Logan (whether the dream awoke the hidden crush or the dream instigated the crush), he was fine with learning to be kinder to the boy who had been nothing but kind to him all these years. ——————– Logicality at its finest everyone <3. i feel like this is the closest these characters are going to get to canon because Logan's not really emotional but he's smart enough to know the patterns of everyone while Patton's emotional, but he really knows how to dodge feeling those difficult feelings. Hope you guys enjoy and I promise you that things will continue to go in a direction you probably wouldn't have expected them to go~

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging! Reblogging helps me a lot and are very appreciated. Check out my masterlist for more, feel free to request any writings, and stick around if you want to see the rest of what I have in store for this! :)

[snowdust64]

Ouma Great War Chronicles - Episode 20: Is It Okay for Things to Continue Like This?

Narrator:  Genzuki, Kaida, and Nagao, who were trying to infiltrate the Star of Kiou, encountered someone who seemed like a devotee. While they were in pursuit, the three were assailed by a sudden, violent trembling of the earth.

sfx:  rumble

Kaida:  A-an earthquake!?

Genzuki:  No, this disturbance of the spirit is… No mistaking it, this is the anger of the gods.

Nagao:  The anger of the gods? Has something happened among the gods?

Kaida:  I don’t really understand, but it’s not wrong to call this an emergency, I presume?

Genzuki:  Sorry, you two! I need to go to the place of the gods! We’ll talk about the details later!

sfx:  footsteps

Nagao:  Oi oi, he flipped a switch and took off just like that. What should we do, Haru?

Kaida: We can’t just quietly go home like this, right? Maybe there's something we can do too… Let’s follow Genzuki. Because of the ground shaking, we lost the one we were chasing, so as for tracking down devotees, we’ll do it another time!

Nagao:  I thought you’d say that! Let’s go!

scene change:  shrine

Genzuki:  Within the Ouma Empire ─ In your perpetual divinity ─ Please forgive me of this utterance ─ Oh gods of Ouma ─ Mine name be Genzuki Toujirou ─ In that warm light ─ Let blossom the sakura of this country ─ For illuminating this nation ─ I offer my sincere gratitude ─ So that disasters be cleansed ─ Calm the heart ─ Take this hand again ─ Protect the Ouma Empire ─ I most humbly call on you!

sfx:  rumble

Genzuki:  Yes… yes. I am aware of how you feel. Even so, I implore you, please calm your spirits. At this rate, the ground will break apart, and harm will come to those faithful to you. Please, I ask of you!

sfx:  rumble; flash

Genzuki:  Haah, thank goodness…

Kaida:  Genzuki!

Nagao:  You really showed us something, Toujirou!

Genzuki:  Haru-kun, Kei-kun, why…?

Kaida:  We thought there might be something we could do, so we followed you. But, looks like matters concerning the gods should be left to the professionals after all.

Nagao:  To be honest, I had no clue what was going on. In any case, since the shaking has stopped, does that mean the problem is resolved?

Genzuki:  For now, yes. The gods were… well, to put it simply, they got into a bit of a fight.

Kaida:  A fight? But why…

Genzuki:  The gods have also been feeling heartache over the recent Cases of Demon Madness. They were discussing various things to come up with a solution. But, they couldn’t get their opinions aligned, and it ended up turning into a fight – is what seems to have happened.

Nagao:  Seriously? So because of that, such an intense quaking…

Genzuki:  Up until now, I have had to pacify the more temperamental gods. But for this many gods to be in a quarrel together over this one issue, it’s unusual. Well, I somehow managed to cool their tempers, it’s a huge relief. (But of course, when it comes to the divine, a single mistake can become a great danger. I need to brace myself once again.)

Nagao:  Anyhow, well done. You resolved this whole commotion single-handedly. Quite impressive, as expected!

Genzuki:  This is my profession after all. I take pride in what I do.

Nagao:  Rushing straight to the scene like that, you’re a role model of an officer, aren’t you. Haru got all tired out when we were following behind. Right?

Kaida:  Hey, I can’t help it. Normally I don’t run long distances like that.

Nagao:  Nah, you call that a long distance? It was nothing.

Kaida:  That’s just your opinion. It’s plenty long to me.

Nagao:  But you know… Even when it comes to desk work, your body is your main asset. Do some exercise, you hear?

Kaida:  Yes yes, I’ll do my best.

Genzuki:  Ahaha… But, since something unforeseen happened, we weren’t able to find out anything about the Star of Kiou. The person who seemed like a devotee slipped away too.

Nagao:  Yeah, you’re right. Well, this time it couldn’t be helped. Let’s keep going with our investigations as before.

Genzuki:  Right.

Kaida:  Mn.

Narrator:  A few weeks later. More than ever before, Nagao, Kaida, and Genzuki poured their strength into their respective work and training.

Masamune:  Ohh, very good. Your swordsmanship has improved significantly since the old days.

Nagao:  Haha! Never thought the day would come when I’d get preaise from you!

Masamune:  No, no, I’m a man who gives praise when the moment calls for praise, you know?

Nagao:  Hah!? I don’t recall you praising me at all in our exorcism school days though!

Masamune:  Is that right? Then – You’ve gotten quite weaker, haven’t you.

Nagao:  Ngh, I can’t say that back, but I can’t let it slide either!

scene:  Bureau Research Department

Hinata:  Kaida-senpai. I brought some tea, please have some if you’d like.

Kaida:  Oh, thank you.

Hinata:  Senpai, you tell me “don’t skip meals,” “take breaks” and so on, and here you are pushing your own limits, aren’t you?

Kaida:  Wha– You’ve learned to say these things too, huh! The research was too fun, so I didn’t realize.

Hinata:  Let’s do this in a way that doesn’t ruin our health, both of us.

Kaida:  You’re right.

scene:  Genzuki’s Workroom

Genzuki:  Fhuh. The report is complete, so I guess that wraps up work for today. From Kei-kun and Haru-kun… not really any communications, huh. (Recently those two seem busy. The three of us haven’t made time to meet at all. The Cases of Demon Madness and the Star of Kiou remain shrouded in mystery. Investigations aren’t progressing either. Is it okay for things to continue like this?)

[anitalianfrie]

translation under the cut!

part 1

he gladly talks about anything, he explains to me that the sun and the moon on his helmet are the two sides of him: one happy and extroverted, always ready to lighten up the mood and laugh, and the other aggressive and reckless, his nature that pushes him into chasing the risk, that gifts him his victories and that makes him bloody charming to the public’s eyes. He’s perfectly conscious how many people who would have never been interested in motorcycles now found themselves every two sundays in front of the tv watching his tightrope-walker comebacks, holding their breath at his inclined body glued to the bike and then exult at his shows on the podium, perfect ‘lightener’ of a world that takes itself too seriously. And the good luck of having the people’s love seems to be his power: Valentino doesn’t profess modesty, he knows he’s liked and he sells this appeal to tens of sponsors that chase him to cover him in gold. But he pays the price of this great mediatic exposition quietly, without complaining. In the paddock he’s the only one who’s been able to get some liberties: as if to say: “let the genius express himself”. Valentino has been able to impose to a serious japanese potency like Honda the absolute autonomy on the team’s image: yellow everywhere, funky drawings on the bike, choreographic shows, everything is born from his will of personalizing his style, of characterizing his presence. This, combined with his exuberant, but always more expert and successful, driving style gets mixed in a cocktail that results irresistible to the public. And when he admits he admires other sportspeople who make a real difference, like Tiger Woods or Ronaldo, “one that when he gets on the field, passes everyone in a sport played by millions”, it’s clear he loves protagonisms and hates mediocrity. I ask him if he thinks that one day he’ll be able to find a woman to build something with. He sighs and looks down at his hands: “I hope so. When women are with me they play a part, but maybe it’s not just with me. They always try to look better than they really are, and I’d like instead a woman who, above everything else, would be my partner [translator’s note: used with the meaning of “accomplice”]. But I haven’t found anyone even close to what I would want”. He doesn’t look scared, Valentino doesn’t bring on the scene the character of a star who misses his normal life. He’s comfortable on the stage, especially because he always works to subtract a space only for himself to the greedy circus of fame and success. Like his travels in the motorhome with Uccio, his best friend, there since elementary school. “This is super important for me. It happens often to remain alone and I don’t like it, I get bored. Me and Uccio have known each other forever, he’s been there since before all of this and therefore I know he’s not only interested in my public persona. This way we leave in the motorhome and we say bullshit after bullshit, he makes me laugh a lot, we’re good together. I need this, a true friend.” He doesn’t like to be left alone, Valentino, except when he’s with her: “I like it when it’s just me and her, my bike, on track. I like it because behind there’s been the work of a team of a lot of people, but then it’s on me to express all of this, together with her. Me and her. It’s amazing”.

[redheadspark]

Hey, for Jack Russel could you do scene 8 with dialogue 16. Love your writing you are fantastic!

A/N: this sounds great for Jack! Thanks, Anon!

Once Upon A Time…

Summary: Jack knew how to tell the best scary stories.

Warnings: Nothing but Fluff

“Now are you sure this is a real scary story?”

“You don’t believe me?” Jack replied smoothly as you poured the wine at the kitchen counter. You just cocked your head.

“I’m more skeptical with the notion of you telling me scary stories,” you explained, hearing Jack chuckle as you walked over to the couch, Janine Jack a glass and sinking into the couch with his arm behind you in the back rest

Jack was still a mystery to you since you two became friends. He was always a shy wallflower When it came to social interactions, but he sid strike up a great conversation with you when it came to folklore and scary stories that were told the children. You try to give me some of the scary stories were in fact scary, though he was more of the skeptical side. After a few drinks and you and having a couple of hours of talking together, you and Jack swapped numbers and stayed in contact for a few months before Jack got the courage to ask you on a date.

Apart from the fact that he was very mysterious about his profession and what he did for a living, he was courteous and kind to you in the upmost gentleman when it came to your dinner date and walking around the park in the middle of the night after dinner. Although his schedule is a bit chaotic since he couldn’t see you Consistently You never worried about that too much.

He preferred to go out on casual walks to the park or other nature like places, he was never want to be around a massive social Circle as it was. You knew he was more introverted which is what he liked about him and he was more of a homebody than anything. Although you to or not and I have a serious relationship just yet, still felt that way since Jack was always curious and chivalrous with you when it came to going on a date we’re hanging out together at your apartment.

Just like this very night, when he wanted to come over and tell you one of his famous scary stories. Since he has yet to tell you all the stories in person, he thought it would be a good opportunity to do so since Halloween was around the corner. Jack was more prone to the spooky side and when it came to folklore than you ever considered.

As you were settling it on the left couch and Jack to the largest from his white, he started for the story and you were listening with wrapped attention. You could see it is ice and how he was speaking in a smooth tone that he knew the story front and back in new just want to emphasize and when to let his voice goes soft and sinister.

It was so easy to be entranced the story, to have it wrapped and undivided attention as he was leaving his tail and letting it rise and fall with his voice. It even surprised you since he was shy and such a wallflower to know such a scary story that could send a shiver down any person’s bones.

Finally, after a few long minutes of him telling the story and ending it with a prolonged silence, he looked over at you with a bit of hesitates to see your reaction and what you would say. You just look at him with white eyes and a gasp on your lips.

“That was beyond scary!” You said to him, sitting up a bit on the couch as he eyed you in surprise form how to reacted to the story. Sure it was downright scary, Even you leaving gasping for air at certain points since it seems get ok dark. Yet at the same time, you could not take your eyes off of Jack as he was telling me the story, hanging on every single word that he would say and hoping to hear what would happen next. He always left a good story, and it was hard to come by since most of the people around you did not even know how to tell one real well

Jack was the new exception.

“Really?” He asked, sliding unconvinced. You nodded vigorously

“Of course! That was one of the best scary stories I’ve ever heard in my life, where did you it from anyways?” You asked as you finished your wine. Jack slightly blushed, almost in embarrassment as he looked at his empty wine clad within his fingers. You could almost see this light flash upon is Chase from the dim lighting in your living room, but it looks very appealing to him since he was also very handsome.

“Something I picked up on a long time ago,” he replied in a soft tone, “Although I do know another really good ghost story that I can tell you another time, if that is all right.”

It almost sounded like another invitation to come back to your apartment and have some one on one time with you, to which she never really mind that at all. Being around Jack felt like a sense of normalcy and familiarity.

There was no hesitance with him or any red flags that would come up that make you think that he was dangerous or someone to miss guide you. It was actually the opposite: he felt like a safe person to be around a person full of warmth and comfort. Although mysterious and introverted and sometimes isolated, Jack seems like he had a very good soul deep within him. so you simply smiled and nodded your head, seeing a little bit of a flushness upon his neck and cheeks as you’re so lucky approving of him seeing you again.

“I would love to get it sometime, Jack,” you replied

“Great! And I can use the pick up line I learned from that story too,” Jack explained with a smirk. You grinned widely, leaning into my bed with a cock of your head and seeing the flushness back on his neck again getting deeper and deeper.

“And what you’d that like be, if I may ask Jack?” You asked gently. Jack shyly smiled, then Giving you a glowing in his eyes it made you almost lose your breath. I never realized how the glitter to in the den light of your living room. But they were almost memorizing.

“‘I’d let you haunt me all night long’,” he recited, making you laugh so hard that he laughed too.

The End.

Halloween Prompts

[colonelpancakes]

Continued again

Not the way she calls out for him. Not the way he tries to hold onto her for as long as possible, keep her from drifting away from him before she is pulled out of his grasp. Not the way she keeps reaching for him even after he can’t reach back anymore like she just wants her dad to hold her.

Aaravos trying so hard to make sure she isn’t scared in her last moments. To make sure she knows that she is loved and that she isn’t alone even though he can’t hold her. Him trying so hard to smile so she isn’t scared even though he’s crying and she’s already closed her eyes… Oh my god.

What the fuck. They fucking blew up his daughter. Oh my god. I. Oh my. Ough.

THAT’S WHAT THE SEA OF THE CASTOUT IS??? It’s Aaravos’s tears filling the crater his daughter left when she hit the earth? Fuck. Oh my god. Jesus christ. I mean. I know the dragons didn’t actually know where the prison was but. Whoever decided to put him there, jesus christ what the hell was wrong with you.

Okay. With full context of that scene. FUCK YOU THE MERCIFUL ONE. You cannot come in and be like “well, if you think about it, everything is temporary and nothing is really gone forever” after you MURDERED HIS FUCKING DAUGHTER IN FRONT OF HIM. WHILST HE’S WEEPING OVER SAID DAUGHTER’S CORPSE. It’s still a beautiful quote but Fuck You.

The Merciful One has lost the rights to use that quote. I think it belongs to Aaravos now.

Okay. Listen. I’m not saying I condone all of Aaravos actions. But I sure as fuck do understand them now. I don’t even have kids. I have no desire to ever have kids. I know without a shadow of a doubt that if I had a daughter and someone did THAT to her. I’d start fucking shit up too. I would go absolutely ballistic, who fucking cares who gets hurt in the process, I would be hellbent on revenge. So like. I get it.

Also, it puts things in a new light because since season two, I’ve been wondering what Aaravos’s endgame is but now, honestly, I don’t really think he has an endgame. I think he just wants to hurt the world that was cruel enough to take his daughter away. To make the people who hurt them suffer, no matter the cost. There’s no way to bring Leola back, I think he just kind of wants to cause as much destruction as possible.

One last side note, Aaravos absolutely killed the Cosmic Council people, right? Like, if they have the power to kill a Startouch elf and they got THAT upset about a child showing magic to her friend, there’s no fucking way they’d let any of the shit with dark magic happen unless they were dead or otherwise incapacitated. Also, Callum’s a human primal mage, he just straight up has primal magic and the council has done absolutely nothing about it so I feel like they have to be dead.

Oh, Claudia… Honey… Darling… She has been through so fucking much.

Oh, Hello!

I love Rayla so much. I don’t have anything else to say here, I just love Rayla.

The Moon Opal from Ethari…

I love the fact that it’s not the reminder of his home or his profession that brings Runaan back, it’s the thought that he’s left behind his husband. The idea that his family needs him back.

And the motif of the “monster” coming back…

THE REPETITION OF THEIR FIGHT ON THE WALL! CALLBACK TO SEASON ONE! And I’m so happy that they’re addressing how Runaan acted towards her in the first couple episodes, especially in Moonrise. This family has so much drama.

“I fought you. I tried to kill you. How could I? You’re my…” “I’m your daughter.” “You’re my daughter.”

Just stab me why don’t you. I love this show, I love Rayla so much oh my gosh. I. And you really get the feeling that this is something they’ve both known for a long time but it’s the first time they’ve said the words out loud. The acknowledgement that she’s just as much Runaan and Ethari’s daughter as she is Tiadrin and Lain’s.

Okay, this one broke my heart. I love her so much, oh my gosh. My girl 🥺

The way he turns into a lotus like the ones on Ethari’s pond… The fact that his love for Rayla and Ethari is what brings him back to the mortal world so of course he turns into the very thing that has represented his connection to Ethari, that lets Ethari know if he’s okay regardless of whether or not they can communicate… I love this show.

Aww, Callum… He’s so worried.

Wing hug!! I love wing hugs! Rayllum my beloveds

“The story we just heard… maybe it started as a story of love. But along the way, it got twisted. Look where we are. We’re surrounded by the bones of the archdragon who betrayed him. He isn’t doing anything for love, he’s doing it for revenge.”

I. Love. Terry. The way he recognizes that Aaravos isn’t doing things to help Leola, he’s doing it to hurt people. He chose to live specifically so that he could continue the cycle of violence, so that he could hurt the people who hurt his daughter and by extension, him. Now, if only Claudia would listen to Terry.

“Aaravos did what was necessary. However dangerous, however vile. Like my dad.”

HONEY. The way she smiles a little bit as she connects Aaravos to her father. Sweetheart, this is not a good idea. Aaravos is not a good substitute for your dad, love does not justify everything. Darling, you really need better adults in your life.

Also, I think this is the first time we’ve actually seen Claudia and Terry fully disagree on something. I mean, they have disagreed before but previously it’s ended with Claudia listening to Terry and doing whatever he asked her to do. She gave Rayla the coins after he told her she was being cruel, she didn’t kill the dragon when he asked her not to, she returned to him on the beach after he told her he would wait for her. This is the first time where Terry has said “This is wrong, I don’t want you to do this.” and she has done it anyways and not turned back on her decision. I just think that’s interesting, I wonder if they’ll start growing apart next season maybe? If Claudia starts to rely more on Aaravos and less on Terry.

Wait, it’s the same spell??? I don’t know why I didn’t make that connection before, I just kind of assumed they were two completely separate spells that required quasar diamonds to free a person from a cursed object. In retrospect, I may be stupid.

Oh, the transitions between Callum and Claudia as they perform the spell are so freaking good.

Also, again, I am so curious about this spell. It’s definitely star magic, it has the same glimmering look that the runes Aaravos draws have but it clearly doesn’t require the user to connect to the star arcanum and it’s not Aaravos lending Claudia magic because Callum’s doing it too and while he is connected to the sea and sky, he’s not connected to the stars.

Oh, Terry, honey. My boy has gone through so much and now he has to watch his girlfriend release what is essentially a vengeful angry god from his magic prison. Please for the love of god, give my boy a break.

The power of gayness!

Runaan! Hug!!!! And Runaan rejoicing in the fact that he’s alive and free and with his kid after he spent season one trying to convince himself that he was already dead.

Also, Wait, if Runaan’s still shirtless, does he still have the binding on? Or would that have fallen off when Rayla’s did. If it didn’t they’re gonna have to go and grab Zym real quick that cannot be good for him.

Hm? What’s up with the coin?

Honey, I think they’ve met...

I guess it's only fitting that for the last episode of s6 I took too many screenshots to be contained in two reblogs. Uh, cointinued in the reblogs. Wait, fuck, you know what, I did not mean to make that typo but it's funny so I'm keeping it. Continued in reblogs

Watching The Dragon Prince Season Six Part Nine: Stardust! The time has come to see if Rayla will make it out of this season with the most parents. I hope so

Under the cut as per the usual!

Hey, the quote from the beginning of episode one! I wonder if we’ll find out more about him and that other Startouch elf given that he’s quoting them now.

Ohhh. Okay. I was entirely convinced that the quasar diamond was another fake. Whoops

Oh, Claudia, honey… 🥺

Skafjlk Something about Aaravos just suddenly showing up next to Claudia so that he can shush her is so funny to me. I think it might be Terry’s face.

HUH? EXCUSE ME??? That was not something I expected. Aaravos has a kid?? Hello?

Darling!!! Oh, honey. She looks so sweet!!! I love her already.

I am also already feeling immense dread because Aaravos is talking about her in the past tense and she isn’t here in present day. “Had a daughter” oh god. Something bad is going to happen to the baby isn’t it. I am not ready.

Sweethearttttt. Oh my god, the way that you can hear the love in Aaravos’s voice as he talks about her… It’s not an emotion don't think I could have pictured on him before this episode but it's so tangible, the voice acting in this episode is incredible. This episode is going to murder me isn’t it.

Also, I like how the terms he's using to describe her could also easily apply to Claudia whom he's trying to get to empathize with him. To connect her own love for her father to his love for his daughter.

Okay, this might be me reading into it but. The way his daughter's hands are held in this picture looks a lot like the way I flap my hands when I stim. Is Aaravos’s daughter maybe neurodivergent? Either way, I love her already, she’s so sweet.

Give Aaravos’s VA an award. The RANGE this man has, spanning from threatening to playful to right here where it’s so soft and sad and full of love for his daughter.

Also, the adoraburrs!!! Look at her!!!

…I am remembering vividly that response from the writers when someone asked if the Startouch child in the intro was a younger Aaravos and they responded that the child was Leola. Oh no. And again, the fact that Aaravos is talking about Leola only in the past tense… I am not ready for this episode oh no. NOTHING HAS EVEN HAPPENED YET AND I’M ABOUT TO CRY.

Also, the animators always do such an amazing job with Aaravos’s expressions. I just. Oh…

Callum, buddy, I don't think you're helping.

Oh, Rayla, honey… I might be wrong but I think that’s the first time Rayla has actually verbally acknowledged Runaan and Ethari as her parents. I know she’s called them her family before but I don’t think she’s called them her parents.

“Those coins will guide you. Each coin contains a fragment of a soul. On the other side, the rest of the soul longs to be whole again, for it cannot pass into death incomplete.”

I like the clarification of what the coins actually do to a person and why they’re worse than death. Because they don’t allow the spirit to achieve peace by passing on or allow them to continue their life, they trap them in between life and death. I also really like that they’re bringing back the stuff from Through the Moon.

Callum… I love them so much oh my gosh. He’s so nervous for her…

They're so sweet, I love them!!!

Ough and the fact that, to get her family back, Rayla has to dive into the lake despite her fear of the water.

OHH NOO I am getting Through the Moon flashbacks, Runaan??? Buddy?? I wonder if it’s a side effect of being in the coin? Are Rayla’s bio parents gonna be like that too?

While the corruption obviously isn’t great, I must say, I like the curly hair on Runaan.

RUNAAN. NO. No killing Rayla. Bad Runaan.

Rayla, honey...

Petition to give Rayla a break.

Oh, they’re dancing. Interesting. Maybe it's some kind of trance that Rayla needs to break them out of? Like there's a different challenge for each soul that she needs to overcome? I don't know, something definitely feels off.

Ohh… The way Claudia looks up at him, she's so enraptured in the story.

Baby!!! Baby girl!!

OH??? It looks like each side unlocks a different arcanum and a different version of the book, intriguing…

I wonder if there’s something particularly special written in the book or if it’s just a tome of knowledge of the arcanums. Rayla did originally think the cube was a piece from a children’s game, maybe in a way, she was right.

SKjafslkjf. Leolaaa. I love mustache Aaravos so much. And it’s so humanizing seeing such a different side of him. To have a moment where he’s not some all-knowing mysterious arch-mage but just a father with a young daughter who likes to poke fun at him sometimes.

Oh no!! Kiddo!

Aaravos being so gentle with the little kid…

Ohh Aaravos definitely knows whoever took Leola and by the look of it, he does not like them very much.

Also, I’m curious who the golden dragon was, that’s an interesting detail.

Continued in reblogs!