#I was going to audition for the school musical but I simply don’t have the time

[queencaramilflinda]

What's the deal with Murph and aarakocras?

Short answer: it’s a NADDPod Dungeon Court thing

Longer answer: People who play aarakocras are notorious for being Problem Players, and Murph has made his opinions on those players very clear (negative) on the show Dungeon Court. It’s been a running thing for years now to the point that whenever aaracokras are mentioned Murph will be biased against them on principle. It’s all in good fun though.

[constellationguy]

That Radio Show

Summary: In the absence of the radio demon listeners of hell find a new broadcast to enjoy.

Chapter three

Chapter one: The New Voice On the Air

Every child dreams to be famous when they grow up, you were no different. When you were younger you wanted nothing more than to have your voice heard from all corners of the globe, to be heard on every radio station, to have your voice ring in the ears of millions of people. You took countless vocal lessons as a kid to prepare you for audition after audition, however very little came from it. Until in high school, you landed a job with your local radio station and fell in love with the art form. You worked almost full time despite school work piling up, the high of being live on air was worth barely passing a class or two. You did school work while music played on air when you weren’t speaking, it was the best job in the world in your book and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Eventually you took over the station after you graduated, working from 5:30am to 6:00 in the afternoon on most days, but night shifts always had the best callers and the warmest ambiance. You pored your heart and soul into your work until you died in a freak hunting accident in 2017.

When you arrived in hell you had dear like qualities, “I guess getting shot like game turned you into game in the after life” you thought looking at your new doe like features. Being new to hell was such an uncomfortable feeling, however you tried to get yourself in your feet as soon as possible. You spent about half a year working in a tailor shop getting yourself a house and a phone. Once you got enough money you finally got yourself an office and radio equipment to start broadcasting within the month. To advertise the radio station you made a hellstagram account just simply named “That Radio Show”. Your bio stated “That Radio Show will be making its debut on station 66.62 fm on the air in 2 weeks time at 5:30am on XX,XX, 2017! Be sure to tune in and maybe give us a call while on the air to chat at (666)-xxx-xxxx or send us mail to read on the air at xxxxx PO Box. Can’t wait to be on the air!”. You made posts advertising your debut, and asking your followers about ideas what to name your new radio show, and of course song suggestions. To your surprise your account went viral and got millions of followers in just a few days, your dms and comments filled with suggestions and surprisingly sweet comments with very little backlash. So when you debuted at 5:30am you had thousands of listeners tune in. Just as 5:30am graced hells residents, a sweet piano piece started to echo through the streets of hell. You lowered the volume just slightly hoping it would give just enough ambiance to your broadcast before speaking.

“Good morning residents of hell.” you said cautious of the volume of your voice.

“It is currently 5:30am in Pentagram City and for many it is time to start the day. As some of you may know this is the debut broadcast of That Radio Show!” You said excitedly.

“So please be sure to check out That Radio Show on hellstagram to send in song suggestions. As this is my first day on the air I hope my dear listeners can treat me with some grace” you hummed.

“Well, I’ll let those of you who got woken up by me go back to sleep and those waking up in peace for a bit, here is “I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire” by The Ink Spots”.

You then muted yourself before fading the piano music and changing it to the song. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held and smiled into your microphone. You spent about two hours introducing the next song in the broadcast order before you got your first call.

“That was “Let’s Do It” by Ella Fitzgerald. Such a sweet song this early in the morning don’t you think? Well-“ you were caught off guard by the phone ringing.

“It seems we have our first caller,” you answered the phone.

“Hello dear you’re on the air!”

“Oh darling!” a southern voice called through the phone.

“Your voice is just velvet to the ears of all of us in Cannibale Town, we are loving you down here darling! Keep up the tunes and let that voice shine.”

“Aw thank you dear,” you cooed into the microphone, “Such high praises on debut day, but nonetheless it is well appreciated.” Listeners could hear the smile in your voice and boy did it pull heart strings.

“Well of course darling, can’t let a beautiful voice go un-complemented, you have a good day now.” The lady said into the phone. “You too, Miss.” You exhaled, chuckling a bit, a smile evident in your tone.

“How sweet that was, ha, well it is currently 8:00am in Pentagram City and the weather is perfect for a morning walk. I hope you can take that opportunity and start your morning off right. This is “Je Te Leaisserai Des Mots” by Patrick Watson, hope you enjoy.” Once you muted yourself you practically squealed in joy with the blatant success of the radio show. Your hellstagram was full of comments praising your voice and pick if songs. The overwhelming support uncommon in hell was shocking and such a surprise, a welcome one though. You got a few more calls throughout the day, only one of them being rude and chastising radio for being an out of date media and flirting with you brazenly on the air.

“Oh that’s no way to speak to a lady, let alone live on air,” you cooed feigning innocence. You sent a devastatingly loud electroshock through the line and your callers line went dead as he fell to the floor.

“Oh dear it seems he hung up,” you chuckled “well- no matter, just remember dear listeners don’t be brazen and you won’t get shocked,” you said with edge in your voice. “Well, this is “Viola Sonata: 1. Largo” composed by Andrei Volkonsky.” You said giving out a light satisfying sigh. As the song closed your voice again rang in the heads of your listeners, “Well doesn’t that piece just tear at your terrible heart strings, such an erre sounding piece. How about something a bit lighter, this is “Bella Belle” by the Electric Swing Circus, hopefully a good dance will shake off any lingering weariness and tension, tune in and dance along, here’s Bella Belle”.

The rest of your day was rather uneventful.

“Well dear listeners, it is 6pm and my time on air is sadly up, don’t worry though. If you stay tuned into this station you’ll still hear music that I lined up to play until I get back tomorrow at 5:30am. Have a lovely evening sinners, I hope you all can tune in tomorrow.” You finally muted yourself for the last time today and leaded back into your chair sighing satisfied. You missed this feeling when you died. Well, no longer would you miss this feeling, you thought as you grab your things and left your office. Just as you locked up the owner of the building spawned behind you.

“SHIT-“ you yelled jumping and dropping your things.

“Such a jumpy thing you are,” the man teased to your annoyance. “You made a rise out of hell today toots, all the old souls have been craving a new voice to cling to after that old shit up and disappeared.” This man was just trying to get a rise out of you at this point but you indulged him, wouldn’t want to get kicked out of your office, he owned the building after all.

“Cut to the chase, what do you want,” you said shortly electricity dripping off your tongue.

“Oh I thought deer were jumpy and scarred things, never thought one would bite back so violently.” He said, voice full of tease and annoyance.

“Unless you are here to tell me about the this “old shit” of a senior I apparently have I would like to leave,” you said pushed through him going down the stair well.

“No need to be a bitch toots,” he called after you. You let it go for now, a little insults in exchange for a bit of information was a fair trade in your opinion.

After fixing yourself a meal you looked up your supposed senior, from what you could tell that “old shit” the building owner was talking about was the Radio Demon. He disappeared this year, a terrifying demon just up and left the public eye. From what you found online he was an overlord and a powerful one at that. He used is radio show is display his power, so this is what you were needed to live up to. Odd.

Chapter two: In the Eyes of the Public

With the radio demon’s disappearance there is less competition, you thought, though that’s a big role to fill for the public. No matter, you thought, you’ll learn to manage, he’ll be back soon… probably….

Everyday your influence on hell’s population grew, listening to your opinions and snide comments, hells older population absolutely fell in love with you. The younger population wasn’t to fond of radio as you were but, to each their own, as long as they keep their complaints between each other and not on your broadcast. As the months past the public grew fonder of you in the radio demons absence, you worry for his return but as months turn into years you worried less and less about him coming after you.

Well into your first year broadcasting you made a slip up that you somehow ended up in your favor.

“Good evening my dear listeners, it is currently 3:30pm in Pentagram City and this lovely winter has graced our dear city and lulled us into a somber mood. I can’t deny that I am not feeling it too so todays music is definitely in the feels today, here is “I’ll Never Smile Again” by Tommy Dorsey” you lowered a dial and muted yourself before sitting back and singing along to the music. Little did you know you turned down the songs volume and muted the piano you had playing in the background, not yourself. So as you listened to the light music and sang along to the sad tune all of hell could hear your voice. Many of your regular listeners simply enjoyed the show while newer listeners decided to record the song and it spread like wildfire, to your embarrassment.

You tried gloss over your mistake however hell seemed to love this little mishap and blew it way out of proportion. Soon enough your dear listeners began calling you “the princess of radio”. As much as you didn’t like the name at first, terrified for when the radio demon came back, it stuck and there was nothing you could do about it.

[freakshowtwopointoh]

12:03 - Next to Normal Chapter 2

Limited range to haunt, thankful for the friends I've got.

< prev | next >

People don’t sneak up on Marie. Ever. The combination of her blood powers and her upbringing ensured that she was always dialed in on her surroundings. So when the door to the music room slammed open, her head snapped up immediately. She still had a whole seven minutes - who did this idiot think they were?

“I have seven more minutes.” She said simply, dismissing them with a gesture before turning her attention back to her music. The intruder sighed but made no move to leave, flicking dark hair out of their eyes.

“And?” They said coolly, lounging in a chair and unpacking their bass. Why did they sound pissed off when she had the room booked? It took everything in her - and the voice of her mother from beyond the grave - not to roll her eyes. She’s a performer. If they were going to come in early, they can deal with her rehearsing this stupid fucking aria. Now that she saw them, of course she recognized them. She’s not in Brink’s materials class yet, but he is the supervisor of basically all mechanical engineering research projects, and Jordan Li is one of the only undergrads Brink has ever hired. What they did to earn that, besides being a kiss ass and the child of donors to the school, is a mystery to her. She tried to keep from wondering if they recognized her from around campus, and she tried to keep from noticing how irritatingly attractive they looked. They leaned back, thumbing the strings on their bass absently. Probably expecting her to run away after a single glare like some frightened mouse. But she’s rehearsed weirder pieces in front of scarier people than Jordan Li.

So she rewinds her music and begins again, working through Voi, Che Sapete - an aria that is the kind of earnest that makes her want to hurl. Come on - This torment is tinged with delight? It was passionate first, now I felt pain? End her now. But her voice coach insists upon learning the classics and technical precision. When she was a kid, her mom taught her and Annabeth how to sing. They had formal lessons, of course - sitting at the rickety piano in the living room and singing scales. But it was also just what happens when you live with a singer. Mom would harmonize with whatever was playing on the radio, and she had this look on her face when they were singing off-key. Nothing mean or condescending, just a soft smile as she guided their voices back to the right note. 

Marie closed her eyes, trying to tune out the thrum of Jordan tuning their bass. “Could you at least attempt some kind of regular rhythm?” She muttered, not really expecting them to respond.

“Have you ever tuned an instrument? There’s actual brain power required.” They retorted, clearly irritated. 

“You are intruding on my rehearsal time -” Marie began, but they just scoffed, going back to fiddling with their bass without even hearing the rest of her retort. Typical. One professor gave them the time of day, and now they walk around this entire school like it’s their personal playground. They probably had a point - though she’s loath to admit it. There’s a reason all the loaner instruments at her group home were woefully out of tune. Even Petrov’s piano often had a few off keys. But that doesn’t change the fact that she booked this room to 12:10 - and she intends to utilize it. After this, she has to head to the library for work, and then meet Emma and some of her dance friends. And she doesn’t need Petrov to tell her that she still sounded forced and overworked.

“Five fucking minutes. In our room.” She thought she heard them mutter, but she decided that she didn’t. Fuming over some entitled upperclassman is not a good way to end her rehearsal. She just tried to get through the piece at least one more time - if she can’t get that bar near the end right, Petrov would make her work this piece for another week, and she’d have even less time to prepare for her audition. As she did so, she saw Jordan’s body grow and shift out of the corner of her eye. She’d seen them in both bodies around the engineering building, but she hadn’t ever actually seen them change. It was seamless - she’d kind of expected something more? But to be fair, the other person she knows who changes shape has ... a specific process to do so. 

“Donna vedete, s'io i'or nel cor.” She ran the line a few times, trying to strengthen her vibrato and emphasize the emotions of the song. She could feel Jordan’s eyes on her, and she found herself standing up straighter in spite of herself. Why was she trying to impress this entitled rich kid anyways? Yeah, they’re incredibly attractive and intelligent, and yeah, they’re an important part of the department she’s in, but still. She doesn’t need their permission, and she certainly doesn’t need their approval. What is this yearning in her heart, indeed. The clock rolls over to 12:10 and she gets ready to head out. 

“Finally.” She heard Jordan mutter as she packed her things, sliding her music neatly into her backpack. She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders back before smiling sweetly at them. Or, as close as sweet as she could get, with frustration still boiling under her skin.

“You know, you could check the schedule before you show up early. It’d be easier to fix your D string literally anywhere else.” They simply raised an eyebrow, looking at her appraisingly. She suppressed a scoff. “See you around.” She said dismissively, rolling her eyes once she was out of view. 

Thankfully, the library wasn’t too far of a walk from the music building, giving her time to grab a coffee before she clocked in. She snagged the black coffee from the countertop, leaving a dollar in the hand-decorated mason jar on her way out. Barista solidarity. 

She punched her code in, laid her bag on the ground underneath the help desk, and she situated herself at her station. She’d barely been sitting for five minutes when Emma came bounding over, looking even more excited than normal. This could mean anything - she could’ve nailed a new dance or she could’ve seen a cute dog. Marie had learned early on never to guess when it came to Emma.

“I think I just met the reincarnation of Robert Pattinson - if he had curly hair.” She breathed dreamily.

“Isn’t he still alive?” Marie remarked nonchalantly, checking books in mechanically. Open. Slide. Stamp. Close. Stack. Repeat. 

“Who cares, that’s not the point.The point is, this guy is hot, he’s nice, and he invited me to a casual-hangout-that-isn’t-a-party - his words not mine - and said I could bring a friend.” Emma waggled her eyebrows at Marie, trying to entice her.

“Emma, you know how I feel about last minute plans.” She admonished. Slide. Stamp. Stack. Close. And about setting her up on dates just because she has a date and they have a single friend.

“But it’s not last minute! It’s tomorrow night.” And as much as she’d like to snap back that tomorrow is still last minute - for Emma, it wasn’t, and she honestly had nothing better to do. She couldn’t keep from shaking her head, smiling fondly.

“Alright. But if they’re not good people, I’ll leave.” Emma nodded seriously before grinning widely, pushing herself up onto the counter, her legs dangling off the edge of the desk. She was about to launch into a play-by-play of the conversation she had with this mystery pretty boy, when something caught her eye and her cheeks flushed a little pink. Before Marie understood why, a relaxed black man in a gray hoodie sidled up to her desk with a nervous curly haired white guy trailing hesitantly behind him. 

“Are you Emma and friend?” The relaxed guy asked, clearly putting on a suave performance that was nearly sickening. She found herself thinking of Jordan - she’d take bitter entitlement over cloying niceties. Then she had to push that thought far from her mind - they’re probably just as fake in the right circumstances.

“Sam, you said we’d be meeting at Gideon Hall tomorrow?” Emma asked the taller man, leaning towards him almost subconsciously and looking up at him. Marie had seen the blonde flirt countless times, but there was something about this that felt... different. But she’s probably reading too much into things. He nodded, almost too quickly.

“We’ll be heading to my townhouse - piling into a few cars.” The guy who wasn’t Sam said casually. He looked Marie up and down appraisingly before giving her his number. “In case you have any questions.” She just raised an eyebrow, taking the paper. 

“You came prepared.” She said dryly, eyeing him skeptically. She pocketed the paper nonetheless, mainly because Emma would ream her if she didn’t entertain him. Despite what her roommate says, she doesn’t need to go on a date with an idiot to know they’re an idiot. But making new friends is probably a good idea, all things considered. That’s the point of college, right? So she tucked the paper into her pocket, and smiled her way through the stilted small talk, and once the two men left, she let Emma regale her with the details of her first interaction with Sam.

That’s also how Marie ends up sitting cross-legged on the floor in the small dance studio, watching Emma and her friends work their way through their tap routine. It honestly wasn’t bad background noise as she worked through her physics homework. And despite the disdain Marie felt for Emma’s mother and her attitude towards dance, she did enjoy seeing the way the blonde’s giggles would turn to full belly laughs as she and her dance partners would work their way through complex choreography. And sometimes, after a really good rehearsal, it almost looked like Emma stood an inch or two taller as she slung her arm around Marie’s shoulders and led the older girl to their next adventure. Which, to be fair, was usually their next meal, but when you’re at the top technical university for superheroes, you tend to find adventures everywhere you turn.

Not every student at Goldolkin Institute of Technology was a supe - it was probably closer to 20 or 30 percent, but supes tended to group together. Part of it was the fact that most freshman supes ended up in one of two dorms due to accessibility concerns, and the rest of it was the gawking that tended to come from the non-supe students. Marie felt lucky most days that she couldn’t be picked out of a crowd as a supe - people have certain expectations that she doesn’t particularly like dealing with. 

Everyone has opinions on who she should be, what she should want, and how she should get it. No one says what those opinions are, but she can feel it - in the way her academic advisors talk to her, in the way the directors at the music hall look at her when she walks in for her audition. You should be grateful for what you have. You don’t truly belong here. Our approval is the only thing that will take you to the next level. 

But it was actually Annabeth that taught her the true golden rule: there’s always another way. She’d remind Marie of this fact of the world before wiggling her way through the mostly closed window of their family home to unlock the front door, or using a bobby pin as a screwdriver to fix the cabinet door before their dad got home. Whenever people tell her she has an engineer’s mind - like the interviewer for G.I.T., or her high school math teacher - it’s because of her. It isn’t lost on Marie that her two passions came directly from the two most important women in her life. 

There’s always another way. That’s how she got into Godolkin, how she convinced her advisor that double majoring across disciplines could only enhance her collegiate experience, and even how she found herself as an understudy in the fall musical last semester. With every step forward, she feels herself pulling closer to her goals: getting her degree and getting back in contact with her sister. And nothing and no one will get in her way.

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

No one else uses this practice room, especially not on Thursdays. Replaced at 9 wasn’t that popular on campus (college radio isn’t really as cool as it was in the 80’s, let’s be real), but they were well known within the music department. It had gotten to the point where they almost started keeping their instruments there. It was Luke who suggested it - Andre kept leaving his drum kit at home. But thank fuck they didn’t, because some random fucking freshman was in there, singing fucking opera. She looked vaguely familiar - maybe she’d seen her around campus somewhere. Not one of her one night stands, thankfully. That would’ve been painfully awkward, and besides, she’d remember a girl like that. Soft and muscular at the same time, big brown eyes sent directly from hell to drive them insane, and the kind of willpower that made their knees go weak. And royally pissed them off. 

“I have seven more minutes.” The freshman started, not even bothering to look at her. Rude. This is why she was a T.A. in engineering, instead of doing more work in the music school. People come in to a music program entitled as fuck - she’s met a thousand and one freshmen like this girl. She was probably the daughter of a voice coach, told she was God’s gift to music her entire life, and came here expecting to crush it in a day. Probably expected to be discovered before her first year was completed. She was well overdue for a reality check - pretty eyes or no.

“And?” They weren’t about to give up their prep time because some freshman was being cocky. This bass required... an expert’s touch, and more importantly, time.

The girl looks almost as pissed off as they feel, but she doesn’t pack up her things. Instead, she just goes back to singing some Italian number set to a Mozart piece. They tried to focus on the task at hand, but it’s not like he could quite hear the note, what with the pretentious racket.

“Could you at least attempt some kind of regular rhythm?” She said, closing her eyes in irritation. Why won’t she just leave? It’s seven minutes, they’ll probably spend twice as long waiting for their bandmates to arrive.

“Have you ever tuned an instrument? There’s actual brain power required.” they snapped back, uninterested in talking in circles. If they’re naturally intimidating enough to scare the freshman engineers, they should be able to get this opera bitch to scurry back home... right?

“You are intruding on my rehearsal time -” She began, barely hiding her irritation. Jesus, this girl doesn’t fucking give up!

“Five fucking minutes. In our room.” They muttered under their breath, half-expecting the freshman to snap back at them, or maybe even finally leave. But no such luck. Whoever this (admittedly very pretty) girl was, she was committed to riding out the full extent of her time block, and doing it in Italian. Someone gag her. She shifted to her male form, needing the larger hands to properly wrap around the neck of his bass. Even that didn’t seem to faze her - at least, she didn’t look up or stop singing. The D string on this bass had a loose knob and was often out of tune, so they focused on retuning it, thumbing the string and listening intently. 

“Finally.” They grumbled, adjusting his position in their seat. He watched as the freshman carefully slid her sheet music into a plain folder and slid that into her bag. 

“You know, you could check the schedule before you show up early. It’d be easier to fix your D string literally anywhere else.” She smiled thinly at him, and he raised an eyebrow, hiding his surprise that she even knew which string was giving them trouble. And as she went to leave, they couldn’t stop themselves from letting their eyes travel down her form. Subtly, of course - they’re not Andre. Of course, she had to be hot, too. At least she was finally gone, and they shouldn’t have to see her again. It’s not like she’s an engineer or anything.

This was one time they were pleased his bandmates were chronically late. That girl - still no name - had gotten under their skin. Luke and Cate can always tell when he’s pissy about something, and he does not need dating advice from the golden duo. Cate’s convinced that anyone who gets under their skin is their soulmate. Or whatever. Hate and love are much closer than people like to think, she tells them. Not true, in their experience. Most people who hate them are not ever going to like him, much less love them.

Whatever. This entitled freshman is not going to mess with their rehearsal. He needs to focus - Andre might be content to half-ass his way through the battle of the bands in a couple months, but they would actually like to be proud of the songs they showcase. There’s a few stanzas that they’d like to work though again and the bass line for the bridge needs some work.

None of his bandmates were surprised to see them hunched over their bass guitar, pen tapping incessantly against their spiral notebook. And if they noticed his irritability, they didn’t mention it. 

“We’re only five minutes late, Luke, this is almost a new record.” Andre called out, grinning easily as he held the door open for the other two band members.

“C’mon, dude, any amount of late isn’t a good look.” The blond admonished his friend, bumping his shoulder affectionately.

“I’m sure Jordan is just happy you remembered to grab your charger before we started rehearsing - even if we did have to walk back to get it.” Cate’s smooth voice slid into the room last, as she trailed behind her boyfriend. “You know they hate being interrupted.” 

Which was true, and why they didn’t lift their head when their friends entered. He’d been hoping to sort out the second verse at least, but the only lyrics they’d scrawled on the page were the lines that freshman was singing. They sighed in frustration, shoving the pen behind their ear and leaning back in the cheap plastic chair. 

“Please don’t expect applause for the bare minimum. That’s how we’ll lose in April.”

“Why do you insist on being a buzzkill, man?” Jordan caught the protein bar Luke threw at them moments before it collided with his head, and they nodded their thanks wordlessly. “April is after midterms. And midterms are forever away. Ergo, we don’t have to worry yet.”

They opted to rip open the protein bar and shove the gifted sickly sweet snack into their mouth instead of starting another fight with Andre. With their current mood in mind, they’d probably end up saying something mean and need to bake some apology cookies. Again. Despite the near constant bickering between them and their friends, he wouldn’t trade them for anything. Without Luke, they probably wouldn’t have ended up being friends with any of them - and their college experience would’ve been much more bland. 

When they started at Godolkin, they were just barely out of the closet and terrified to step out of line. Just walking around in their female form felt dangerous. But they went to some club meeting (none of them actually could recall which club it was), sitting nervously in the back of the room, unsure of everything. And Luke, the first freshman to perform at the music school’s symposium (and some ex-child star from a show they would never admit to having watched), sat right next to them and started making conversation. Told an embarrassing story about accidentally melting a plastic bowl to his hands, and invited them to come meet his other friends. He and Andre had met at orientation, Andre met Cate in class, and the rest was history. They performed together for the first time in the spring of freshman year, and now they were all juniors, competing in the battle of the bands for the fourth time. The second time with their own music. 

They watched as Andre set his drum kit up in the back alongside Cate’s keyboard, and he took his place beside Luke. It used to feel weird, standing together like this. Like they were playing at being rock stars the way he used to do with his sisters in their basement. And they aren’t sure when it started feeling real. It sort of snuck up on him, but one day, he was standing in this very spot, holding this guitar, and they realized that they were actually doing what they always wanted to do. He was actually fucking making music.

And as the four of them settled into their rehearsal, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. He’d somehow managed to make something close to a happy life out of what could have been a caffeine fueled slog through four years of hell. It wasn’t always easy - most rehearsals ended with them needing to rush off to manage something for Professor Brink or meet some random collection of students for a group project or a study session. Cate and Andre were both business majors, so they did most of their studying together. He used to find it suspicious - and wondered more than once how Luke put up with it. But he never seemed bothered by it - and he was often busy with private voice lessons and a slew of other rehearsals anyways. Besides, they didn’t like speculating like that about any of their friends. 

They did end up dashing out of rehearsal precisely when it ended, meeting with Brink to discuss lesson plans and then holing up in his office to study in peace. They technically had a study session tonight at the townhouse, but it was almost impossible for them to get any solid work done when all their friends were around, doing precisely zero work. Luke didn’t really study, Andre insisted he studied better when he was high or drunk (he doesn’t) and So he finished his homework and a first draft of a paper in the privacy of Brink’s cluttered office before heading to the townhouse to “study”.

She shifts on her way out, and is once again amazed by how easy it can be. People rarely ever asked why they shifted, and she and Cate had come up with a list of canned responses for the kinds of rude or insensitive things people would say. There were some that never failed to make her laugh - I heard your mom wanted to try pussy tonight and I thought it’d be funny if you got beat up by a girl - but she tended to default to Cause I fucking felt like it. Because that was the most honest - and it gave people nothing to work with.

She knew the townhouse would be unlocked so they didn’t even bother knocking, just walked right in. Sam, Luke’s younger brother, was lounging on the black IKEA futon, all up in arms about some girl he met. They basically tuned it out, heading straight for the fridge and grabbing a beer. She was honestly stoked - if Sam had met a girl, no one would be interrogating Jordan about what pissed them off. Or who.

They settled into their usual spot in the large and eclectically furnished living room of the townhouse - an emerald green corduroy recliner that is clearly a relic of the 80s, complete with a cupholder. It was the least offensive of the three ‘couches’ (if you could call them that). It wouldn’t take long for Sam to be relegated to the worst of the three - a worn down pleather loveseat that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke, by Andre and Luke. The two settled in with their own beers as they kept discussing whatever harebrained idea Andre had cooked up this week.

Jordan found herself drifting in and out of focus during the chatter of their friends, not particularly interested in Andre’s newest business scheme or Sam’s continued anxious babbling about this blonde girl. She still couldn’t get Opera out of her mind - or that song out of their head. Rather, the one line of that song. It didn’t help that the two were inextricably tied - so even as she kept telling herself that it was the song that was stuck in their head, not the girl, it rang a bit hollow.

“Are you learning Italian?” Cate’s cool voice cut through her reverie. She peered over their shoulder at her phone. “What is this yearning inside my heart? Classy.” She said lightly, smirking as they cringed away from her inquisitive glare. 

“Got a song stuck in my head is all.” She grumbled, closing their phone before she could get even more nosy. If she even imagined there was a girl involved, she’d never let it up. Even so, they could see her filing that information away for future use.

“One of those opera girls in the music hall?” Andre asked, leaning even further back so his head was nearly in Cate’s lap, his legs already sprawled over Luke’s thighs. “Hanging around on the second floor might actually teach me more than my French class ever did. If they don’t give me a migraine first.” Cate was the most perceptive of the three, but Andre had a knack for guessing correctly about things like this.

“Half those songs are the same three lines repeated over and over again.” Cate said dismissively. “I could teach you more French than that in an afternoon.” She threaded her gloved fingers through Luke’s, settling into the couch. She had this knack of appearing both at home and out of place in most places on campus. Even here, she still had this air about her that both enticed and frightened most who met her. She was intimidating - in a very different way than Jordan was. She wasn’t stone faced and solid, she was elusive, and hard to understand. Almost like a changeling, she had this way about her that made it hard to pin down her true feelings. But she was also the first girl who she felt like really saw her as another girl. Cate painted her nails, helped her with her makeup, and none of it ever felt forced or inauthentic.

It kind of amazed them after years of being told that no one would ever accept her as bigender or her powers, that they had found Professor Brink and Luke and all these people who saw her as who she was, in their entirety. It gave them the strength and the motivation to continue to actually reach for their goals, which were inching closer every day: get their degree and make good music. And nothing and no one will get in her way.

< prev | next >

Thanks again to @perpetualproductions for editing this and all their help!!

[myseungsunglove]

Don’t Mess with a Good Thing | Hjs

Pairing: Jisung x Reader

Warnings: All the fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You’ve loved your best friend Han Jisung for as long as you can remember. Really there has only ever been him, but neither of you have ever owned up to it. Until one morning when everything changes.

A/N: I adapted this fic from many years ago when I used to write very regularly. Hope it works okay and that you enjoy it as much as I do.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

Feedback Welcome

「© July 31, 2023 by mysweethannie」

You sat on the balcony of the condo you shared with Jisung, Changbin, Chan, and Hyunjin watching the sun rise. Han Jisung had been your best friend since you were fourteen. The last nine years had been some of the best times of your life as well as some of the most trying and confusing.

When you first moved to Seoul to train at JYP, you didn’t really know anyone. At least not anyone training. Your family had moved away from South Korea to the States when you were five. You’d spent most of your formal school years there but always went to Seoul to visit grandparents. You spent every summer in Seoul and every summer your grandparents made sure your music lessons were always a priority and continued while you were with them.

Fast forward and it was 2014. You impulsively auditioned for JYP over the summer and got accepted into the training program. The entire trajectory of your life shifted in that moment. On the first day of training, you met Han Jisung. Somehow, over the course of the next three years you’d find yourself friends with Jisung, Chan, and Changbin, helping them produce music and lyrics for songs as you all trained together at JYP. It got even crazier when JYP himself allowed Chan to form a group of self selected members for trial debut and Chan pulled the biggest surprise on JYP he could have managed. He picked you along with 8 other guys. 1 girl, 9 guys. It was something JYP had never even thought to try. He made it pretty clear from the beginning he thought it’d never work when he decided to allow your group to compete on the Survival Show Stray Kids. He even eliminated members from your tight knit group in effort to derail your hopes of debuting as a unit, but you were dumbfounded that you were never in danger. When Minho and Felix had both been eliminated, you’d all been floored. Devastated. When they came back in the end, it was like you were whole again and gave one of the best performances of the show with all of you together. The rest was history. you’d all go on to debut as Stray Kids in 2018. During all of that, 3Racha1 was a constant and important pillar in your life. They had added the one to 3Racha when it was clear that you were an extremely important part of their unit and they wanted to move forward with you, whatever the cost may be. And of course the other members of what would become known as Stray Kids became like family as Chan intently and purposefully picked each one.

Han Jisung was the best friend you had ever had, though. You shared things with him that you wouldn’t dare tell another living, breathing soul. You were fairly certain that door swung both ways. You knew secrets about Jisung that you didn’t think any of the boys knew about him. That only seemed to strengthen your relationship and bond with Jisung. He was the most important person in your life. You lived with the boys so that you weren’t excluded from bonding with the group simply for being a girl. It worked out better than anyone really could have expected. When the one dorm was just too cramped for the nine of you after four years and it was time to split into two groups, the natural order suggested that 3Racha1 stay together. You guys would drag poor Hyunjin along for the ride, but you knew he secretly loved the chaos. Deep down. Maybe way deep down but it was there.

You sighed contentedly as you sipped your coffee, reminiscing about the last nine years and how the hell you had gotten to where you were in 2023, two days shy of leaving for fucking Paris to headline at Lollapalloza. It really all felt like a dream, but with the boys and especially Jisung by your side, you know it was all worth it.

You realized that you were in love with Jisung about a year and a half ago while prepping for the Oddinary comeback . You were always stubborn about admitting your feelings and letting yourself actually feel. If truth were to be told, you’d probably been in love with him most of your friendship. Who could blame you, really. The two of you acted like a married couple. You did everything that couples did short of making out and making love. Some days you desperately longed for that element of your relationship to blossom, but you were never sure if Jisung saw you as more than a friend or not. So you kept it strictly platonic. Ish.

He took you out on surprise date nights to quite corners where no one could find or bother you, you cuddled up together in bed and watched anime and Kdramas for hours on end on your days off hiding away from the world. He’d occasionally make you breakfast in bed which was always entertaining because he wasn’t the best cook, but he still liked to spoil you all the same. He’d often surprise you with plane tickets home when you had longer hiatuses, always insisting that he come along too. All of your friends at home would joke with him about when he was going to get you a ring and make it official. He’d laugh and say that you would never see it coming, winking at you as he pulled you into his side right where you belonged. It was the running joke every time you brought him home with you.

You weren’t really sure you were ever going to get the chance to tell him how you felt. You worried about the dynamics of the group and the viability of 3Racha1 if he didn’t return your feelings. Your mom always told you, “Don’t mess with a good thing, Y/N.” And who were you to screw up nine years of friendship? You cared about Jisung too much.

You took another sip of your coffee, pulling it close to you for warmth. A smile broke out across your face as the sun peeked out over the horizon. The warm golden yellow filled the air suddenly, taking your breath away.

“Beautiful,” Jisung said from the door behind you.

“It is, isn’t it?” you replied, turning and expecting to see him looking out at the gorgeous sunrise. Instead, his eyes were trained on you. He smiled at you as you cocked an eyebrow at him suspiciously. “What are you up to, Han Jisung?”

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, but you cut him off.

“Uh oh. Stop the press. Ji is thinking. We’re all in trouble!” you laughed as he sat down beside you.

“Seriously,” he chuckled, stealing your coffee from your hands and setting it on the coffee table, but not before taking a long drink from your cup and sighing contentedly.

“Hey! If I don’t drink that, I’ll be falling asleep on any surface I set foot on in the studio this morning. Give it back,” you whined, jutting your bottom lip out in a pout.

“God, I love you,” Jisung laughed, pulling you close into the crook of his side, right where you belonged.

“Damn straight you do,” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into him, your face pressing close to his neck, your head resting gently on his broad shoulder. The air suddenly felt a little chilly and you burrowed closer to him, thankful that, for such a small person, he radiated heat like the sun.

Jisung kissed your temple, lingering longer than usual, inhaling deeply. You sighed. You really could stay like this forever. He spoke aloud what you were thinking.

“I could stay here just like this forever,” he said, pulling you closer, the tips of his fingers ghosting your skin where your shirt was riding up slightly. You shivered in response and his fingers dug into your bare skin lightly. “Only one thing would make it better,” he mumbled.

You placed your hand on his chest and pushed yourself up, so that you could look into his beautiful brown eyes.

“What could possibly make this better, dude?” you glared, pretending to be insulted that you weren’t enough to make the moment perfect. In truth, you were a little disappointed.

“This,” Jisung answered, his free hand landing on the base of your neck, pulling your lips to his. A jolt of electricity shot through you. You had only dreamt of this moment. Was this a dream?

His lips moved against yours with reverence, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip and daring into your mouth.

You pulled away, breathless. “Ji,” you whispered, your fingers running along the base of his hairline, the muscles in his neck responding to your touch.

He reached for his pocket, pulling something small from it. “That and this,” he said with a smile, holding the most beautiful ring you had ever seen.

You were speechless. Tears pooled in your eyes as you tried to process what was happening. Jisung spoke before you could form a sentence.

“I love you. You’re my best friend. I tell you everything. You are the person I spend 99% of my time thinking about. I think about how I can make you laugh. How I can make you smile. God, I think about what your lips would feel like against mine and damn if I wasn’t right. I’m cursing myself for not acting sooner,” he said, kissing you deeply once more. The connection was real and intense and you’d never felt anything like it before. The way his lips moved against yours, it’s like they were meant to be yours and yours alone.

He pulled away hesitantly, you chasing after his now kiss swollen lips. He chuckled softly.

“I think about how I’ve been madly in love with you for years, and how I think you love me too. I think about how you are the person I want to come home to everyday for the rest of my life. I think about what it would be like to make love to you, and I lose my mind. You make me lose my mind in the best way possible. That’s when I realized I wanted you to be my wife. What we have right now is a thousand times better than most couples I know, and we aren’t even dating. We’re better. I finally figured out the only thing we were missing was you having my last name and me knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are mine and I am yours. From the moment I met you, I knew there wouldn’t be anyone else baby,” Jisung finished, smiling at you, wiping away the tears that were steadily falling down your cheeks.

“Ji,” you whispered, pulling his lips to yours with passion. Once you were both rendered breathless again, Jisung pulled away hesitantly, not wanting to let you go now that he really had you for the first time.

“Y/N, will you marry me? I know we’re skipping a few steps and the boys will have to adjust, but this couldn’t feel more right,” he said, taking your hand and holding the ring in his other hand, looking at you like you held his entire world in your answer. In truth, the guys all treated you like you were together anyway. This wouldn’t really change anything except making it official. Sure you’d have hoops to jump through with the company, but you knew Chan would help you guys navigate those waters. Since he was like a big brother to you and Jisung, he was more than aware of your feelings for each other, both of you having confided in him over the years.

“Jisung, I love you. Yes. I’ll marry you. It’s always been you. It will always be you,” you said through tears as he slid the perfect ring onto your finger. You were marrying your best friend. The love of your life all without the pressures of dating.

“I told you you’d never see it coming,” Jisung smiled, kissing your temple.

“I always thought you were joking,” you grinned, beaming from ear to ear.

“I’m glad. If you thought that I was serious it would have ruined my plan. I could not have been more serious, baby.”

“My family is gonna to be shocked,” you laughed, staring at the ring as it sparkled in the morning light.

“I don’t think so,” Jisung smiled. “They saw the way I looked at you when you weren’t looking. Your dad told me the last time we were there that I better take good care of you. That he knew where to find me. Said he would be proud to have a son like me. Someone who loved his daughter so unconditionally,” Han confessed.

Your hand flew to your mouth. “He didn’t,” you gasped with a giggle.

“He did, but Y/N he couldn’t have been more right. I had the ring then. I’ve had it for almost a year,” Jisung revealed.

“Wow,” you managed as Jisung’s lips fell on yours again, his hand roaming your sides hungrily, slowly pushing the fabric of your night shirt up. His lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The way his touch set you on fire only served to confirm that being with him was always meant to be. You were on a collision course to this moment and neither of you had known.

Jisung was your best friend. Now fiance. You couldn’t wait to call him your husband, you thought as his lips traveled your body, showing you just how much he loved every inch of you.

“Is it done?” A chorus of voices rang out onto the patio, startling you and Jisung apart.

“Oh god!” Hyunjin cried when he saw Jisung’s hand up your shirt, laying across you on the bench.

“My eyes!” Chan mocked, covering his eyes.

“I think it’s done,” Changbin laughed.

You sat up, straightening your clothes and easing a very reluctant Han off of you as he settled down by your side.

“You’re looking at the future Mrs. Han Jisung,” he boasted, his hand holding yours as he showed the boys your ring.

“Bout fucking time,” Chan laughed which made all of you laugh in turn. “We should all get moving along. I’m pretty sure the early bird house is probably all already ready for the celebration breakfast. They actually sleep at night, unlike us,” he chortled with a yawn.

“Celebration breakfast?” you questioned, looking at Jisung. “Did everyone know about this?”

He smiled mischievously. “Maybe,” he admitted.

Your mouth dropped open in shock. “How did Jeongin not spill the beans?” You laughed. “Hell, how did you all keep this locked down so long?”

“Chan, Minho, and Seungmin are the only ones that have known longer than a week,” Jisung laughed. “The rest of these knuckleheads couldn’t have been trusted to keep their mouths shut.” He glanced at Hyunjin.

“Hey! I resent that,” Hyunjin pouted.

“You know he’s right,” Changbin laughed, clapping Hyunjin on the back.

You smiled fondly at them, leaning in to kiss Han once more. His hand came to rest on your cheek as he pressed closer to you once more.

“Alrighty,” Chan said, clapping his hands together and walking back inside, dragging the other two with him. “Don’t get too handsy, you two. We should probably leave within the hour before Minho shows up at our doorstep,” he warned with a chuckle.

“Shit,” you mumbled against Jisung’s mouth. “Can’t have that. Between him and Seungmin, we will never hear the end of being late even if this is all about us,” you laughed.

Jisung tossed his head back, a belly laugh emitting from him at the thought.

“You’re so right. Better get moving,” he agreed, jumping up and offering you his hand, the most beautiful smile on his face. You took it, the stupidest, happiest smile plastered on your own. He pulled you close, kissing you slowly once more. “Damn,” he sighed. “Why haven’t we been doing this all along? I’m never gonna get enough of you,” he admitted with a low growl against your lips.

“I’m all yours, Han Jisung. Tonight I’ll show you just what that means,” you promised, running your hand along his chest as you walked past him back into the house, heading for the shower.

“Fuck,” he whispered, watching you walk away, daring a glance back at him with a wink. “How about you show me now,” he teased, chasing after you which caused you to take off toward the bathroom. You reached it before he could catch you and closing the door and locking it behind you. “Sorry, babe. Guess you’ll have to wait,” you teased. You heard him sigh and moan, slumping against the door momentarily.

“Just you wait, y/n,” he warned. “Just you wait,” he repeated as he trudged down the hall to his own room to get ready.

You leaned against the door with a happy sigh. You couldn’t believe how much your life had changed in the last hour and you couldn’t be more excited for the changes it meant for the future. You were engaged to Han Jisung. You were the luckiest girl in the world.

[lucygraysboy]

“hm, what if i am good at it and it’s this sneaky little birdie who’s simply too smart for this game? have you ever thought about that?” he plays along, smiling shyly at the beautiful brunette. he makes a mental note to himself to memorize her like this — sitting in his lap, these big brown eyes gazing back at him. “so is yours. smackable, pinchable and kissable.” laughing, he gently smacks her butt once she begins to climb off of him. “a bee? i didn’t know bees and flies spoke different languages.” the things he’s learning today. “right? i was hopin’ we’d get to watch high school musical or peter pan or somethin’ before bed. we have all these snacks and they don’t taste half as yummy without a movie playin’ in the background.” he’s got no appetite now, though, just trying not to think about what will happen if they get snowed in, if they have to stay in this motel longer than expected. he’s got school on monday, an audition on tuesday… he can’t miss out. “what are you scared of, little birdie? i’ll protect you from the cold and the big foot,” billy coos sweetly, crawling under the covers with her, his legs finding hers and tangling together. his heart swells at the gentle tug and her sweet words, his cheeks flushing. he didn’t expect her to welcome him back, let alone request a hug, and here he is — arm draped over her, his chest pressed to her back. “one more teddy and you’ll suffocate, honey.” he teases, letting go of her briefly just to set their phones on the nightstand. he leaves the flashlight on for a moment longer, figuring they could use a night light, especially if she’s scared.

“well, you would think you’d be good at it by now.” lucy gray teases, finding relief the second he sits down and no worries of throwing up now. “mhm, it’s very pinch-able,” a tiny smirk. “it’s a bee sound, not a fly.” she amusingly corrects, arms still tightly hanging around his neck. “i hope the power comes back on in the mornin’. this is kind of scary.” because it’s not like all the snow on the road is just magically going to disappear by morning either. so it’s not like they can just get in their cars, take off and leave. “yeah, course you can. my arms are cold… i need your dinosaur arms to keep me warm.” lucy gray tells him, petting his cheek blindly. she reaches for his phone flipped on the back side where the flash light is still on, climbs off him and gets in on her side by the wall. she tucks her legs under three of the blankets, then sinks down to rest on her pillows, grabs her bear and horse to hold them on top of her then reaches over to tug on billy’s arm to gesture him to get under the blankets with her. she hands him their phones so he can put them on the nightstand, leaving it up to him to turn the flashlight off.

[ladyaislinn-purewhite]

Details Interview

Q&A With Christopher Walken

The idiosyncratic actor talks about his relationships with John Travolta (love him!), ice cream (stay away!) and, of course, cowbell (more!).

Q: Annie Hall. The Deer Hunter. Pulp Fiction. And now . . . Hairspray. You’ve been in some real masterpieces. And you’ve also been in a few non-masterpieces. A: I’ve made—I think about a hundred movies. And there’s a good number of them that I’ve never seen. Never.

Q: With something like Gigli— A: Which in fact I never did see, because it came and went so quickly.

Q: . . . do you ever get the feeling that, Hey, I’m working on a really bad movie? A: Movies are terrifically optimistic enterprises. If you come into the makeup trailer in the morning and you say to the hair person, “Did you go to the dailies?” I’ve never in my life heard anybody say, “They weren’t very good.” It’s always, “Oh, my God! It’s electrifying!”

Q: In Hairspray you play John Travolta’s husband, and you two seem genuinely smitten. A: You’re right. I think that we had a nice, as they call it, chemistry. I was very taken with him.

Q: You broke through in the seventies, a time when unconventional actors like you, Al Pacino, Robert De Niro, Dustin Hoffman, and Gene Hackman could become stars. A: I certainly have never been an actor who can play the Everyman guy—or, I don’t tend to get those parts. I’ve tended to play eccentrics. I’ve played a lot of villains, of course. I think the fact that I grew up in show business had a real effect on my personality. If you were born in New York during the golden age of television, and you grew up on Broadway, that marks you. And strangeness can translate into a little bit scary. Also, I’m very pale. I’m an indoors person. And the way I speak—I’ve never really been able to play . . . people. It’s always somebody who’s a little off-center. Those are people, too. But not your guy next door.

Q: You’re known for your distinctive cadences and rhythms. Has a director ever tried to make you change that? A: It’s very rare, and it’s not a happy thing. You know, I get along very well with everybody. Always have. But occasionally somebody will say, “Could you read that line another way?” And I just tell ’em, “I’m sorry. I have no idea how to do that.” And the interesting thing is that the other actors, when that happens to me, they all gang up: “What? Leave him alone!”

Q: I understand you’re a great cook. Do you tend to take care of dinner at home with your wife? A: I do. You know, it seems to me that a lot of men do the cooking. I’m not a terrific cook, but I’m good at buying things. If you buy really good stuff, and you don’t overcook it—if you cook simply, good fish and good vegetables and things, it’s healthier. I don’t know why people eat so badly. I could eat pasta all the time, but it really is fattening. And I love ice cream, but I can’t do that. There was a time, until I was in my mid-forties, when I could eat a whole pizza—and really, no effect.

Q: A whole pizza? A: Oh, sure. I could eat really anything I wanted, and I stayed thin. But then there comes a time where it all kind of backs up on you.

Q: You dropped out of college. A: Actually, I got a job in an off-Broadway musical called Best Foot Forward, which was Liza Minnelli’s debut. She was 16 years old. I was 18. I had auditioned and I got the job and it was just about the end of the school year, and that was it. I was never keen on school, to tell you the truth. I was probably not qualified for advanced education.

Q: Would you advise people to do the same thing? A: No. Everybody does what they have to do. It worked out nicely for me. You have to be good at what you do, and you have to work hard and take care of yourself and all that, but I think everybody has to be lucky, too. Luck is a very big factor.

Q: I understand that you have an odd grooming practice: You yank your own hair every day. A: Oh, yeah. President Kennedy had this great hair, and I read that somebody came and massaged him because he had that back problem, but he would also get his hair pulled. As men get older, the skin on their heads tightens and the blood gets constricted. Apparently, if you keep your scalp skin loose, you’re more apt to keep your hair. So I just grab it with both hands and yank on it while I’m watching the news.

Q: A lot of guys my age are obsessed with your “More cowbell” routine from Saturday Night Live. A: I was eating in a restaurant in Singapore, and an Asian couple was at the next table, and the guy turned to me and he said, “Chris, you know what this salad needs?” I said, “What?” He said, “More cowbell.” Recently a guy asked me if I would say “More cowbell” on his answering machine. And I did.

Q: You could make a lot of money by recording “More cowbell” wake-up calls for hotels. A: “Wake up, it’s time for more cowbell.” SNL would probably be on me—“We own that!” I don’t know who owns these things—I don’t have a computer.

Q: You don’t? A: No, I don’t. And I certainly wouldn’t know how to work one. I don’t have a cell phone, either. But I was thinking about eBay, because I like to paint, and it occurred to me: What would happen if I put a painting on eBay? You think I could sell it?

Q: You’d make money. You know, it’s not commonly recognized as one of your masterpieces, but I must say I was totally shaken up by Communion, from 1989. You were really convincing playing a man who’d been abducted by aliens. A: Well, the guy who wrote it, Whitley Strieber, had tapes of himself when he was under hypnosis, which were very interesting to listen to. I’ve heard he would go out at night and claim that he’d been in some sort of abduction.

Q: Did you believe him? A: I believed that he believed. And I think it’d be a gas if aliens came and said hi. Wouldn’t that be great?

[kouxbe]

sr media audition song: lucy - 떼굴떼굴

"you're failing the class, kou."

"that's not possible. how can i fail a class i don't even attend?"

"you're failing because you don't attend."

he'd misread it.

all this while, kou had fucking misread his own timetable on the damn school website. in his mind, in his little kou-like mind, he thought he was down a module. which he wasn't obviously.

it's not until the professor comes up to him, speaks to him, and visibly shows him the class list does kou realize that shit. he isn't down a module, and shit he hasn't been attending class.

"but that – i..."

it turns into a conversation of please don't fail me, i have a family to feed ( the family consisting of kou and a few stray cats ) and his professor finally giving him by telling him to do well on the next research presentation they have coming up, to score a good grade there, and then possibly, possibly pass the class.

"can you give me a hint? like something you'd like to see? something that can guarantee an A... or something close to it."

his professor sighs, and maybe it's the look of pure devastation on kou's face ( or the fact that he wanted to go for lunch soon, and kou would not leave him alone. at all ), that finally has him giving the student a clue. "well, some companies are having auditions coming up. you probably missed a few, but i think sr media's is still open. you can expand on the audition process of that. think up a statement for your research, but remember it has to be related to the class. understand?"

"uhm, okay!"

damn? what class was it again?

-

fast forward a week and yes, kou did miss out on a few open auditions for other companies. which was fine, because thankfully sr media still had theirs open.

truth be told, kou has no clue about sr media entertainment. just the very basic of basic ideas, but he can't exactly pick and choose and he decides fuck it, i need to pass.

it's uneventful, kou simply putting a camera up in his, now tidy, room and standing in front of it. an introduction and a 90 second audition. simple enough.

"hello, my name is sato kou. i was adopted at a young age and grew up in japan. uhm, i was active in an indie band called seasons as a vocalist and guitarist, and now i'm attending university and studying engineering. i was also on a survival show once. i'm allergic to cats, but i really like them. thank you."

simple enough!

he picks up his guitar and gets ready for the next part, the actual showcasing of his talent.

he decides to perform lucy's 떼굴떼굴, a personal favourite of his, but with a more acoustic take.

"now my head is spinning somehow the sun has already set and i don’t even know what day it is today"

he begins, as he strums the guitar. he does a little rearangement so that it fits 90 seconds.

"and here comes another day as the world goes round and round without a break everyone goes rolling rolling all day it isn’t right for this to continue to the days i used to wait for the next day, let’s go Back!"

he strums his guitar passionately as he sings, bopping his head along to the music. momentarily, his eyes close as he loses himself in it.

once he's done though, he makes sure to turn to the camera and bows.

now, onto working on the presentation slides.

[imagines-r-s]

terms and conditions // jj maybank

chapter 1:

series masterlist // playlist (coming soon)

a/n: i apologize for the wait and appreciate all of your patience, i'm so excited for this series!! this series will include fanon!rafe and ward is not that terrible of a person in this. hope you guys enjoy and feedback is always welcome!!

warnings: asher. some parental issues (if i forgot anything, lmk)

wc: 3.6k

(not my gif)

Nine Months Earlier:

Walking down the seemingly endless hallway towards your moms office, your knuckles were turning white from how tightly you were holding the folder in your hand. All you had to do was somehow convince your mother - who was dead set on you taking an internship with her while you studied business management, so that you could take over as CEO when she gave it up - to let you try out for a program that would change the whole trajectory of your life. 

The Johnston School of Music was one of the most elite music schools in the country and you had been offered the opportunity to audition and interview with the head piano and orchestral teacher there, the only things that stood in your way was not knowing the audition music and your mother. 

That’s how you ended up here. Anxiously standing outside her office, trying to find the courage to simply knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, you finally knocked on the door and opened it at the sound of a soft ‘come in’. 

“No, no, Charles, you’re the one that’s not understanding,” you saw your mom pacing behind her desk as she talked to whomever was on the other side of the phone call, “if we establish this deal with the San Diego branch, we will have four solid places withholding. I’m working on getting another solid spot, but as of right now we need something to fall back on.” 

You listened as Charles tried to speak up on the other line and was quickly dismissed, “fix the presentation or else I’ll find someone else to do it. You have til the end of the week. Goodbye.” She huffed out a breath of air before sitting down at her desk and sending a smile your way, “hi, honey. How are you?”

“I’m good, Mom. Everything okay with work?”

“Ah, look at you interested in how the work day is going, but not exactly. It’s getting there though,” she sighed before she eyed the folder in your hand, “what’s that?”

“Oh, this? I wanted to ask you about something, actually.”

“What is it? Are you in trouble? Is it something about Asher?”

You sighed at the mention of your boyfriend, “no, Mom, it’s about a school. An opportunity came up for a really good scholarship, I just have to audition.”

“Why would you have to audition? I knew they were changing the way the enrollment process worked, but I never expected an audition process,” she thought out loud, “what school is it?”

Here it is. The make or break it moment. “Johnston School of Music,” you let out quietly, trying to gauge her reaction. 

“What was that? You know I hate when you talk so quietly, future CEOs talk with their chest. Now let’s try that again.”

“Johnston School of Music.”

The room went silent and the air grew ten times as thick as it was before. The two of you simply stared at each other for a moment, seeming like neither knew what to say, but you knew so much was about to be said by the way your mother’s posture changed. 

“Music?”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty prestigious school and if I got in, it would lead to really good opportunities in music,” you spoke as confidently as you possibly could. 

She hummed, “well, considering you’re looking to go into business, this might not be the best idea of yours.” 

Here it comes, “I don’t know how sure I am about majoring in business anymore.” You never were. You never had been. She had. 

“Oh, I see,” there was an uneasy pause on her side of the conversation, “I really should have taken you out of piano when I had the chance, thought it would be a good outlet for you though, but clearly it’s just put silly thoughts in your head that go against the plan we’ve had since you were little.”

“It’s just-”

“It’s just what?”

“It’s just an audition. Who knows if I’ll really make it? I can at least try, you know.” 

“Why waste your time on that? Plus, the audition is for the school, right? So, if you audition and make it, the prospect of being able to go to that school would be there and you might try to do it,” you watched as she stood up from her desk and walked over to you, her hand pushing a loose piece of hair behind your ear, “I just don’t want tedious things to get in the way of the big picture, sweetie.” 

You desperately wanted to say more, but you simply watched as she plucked the folder out of your hand and threw it in the trash can by her desk, “I don’t want you going to that audition and that’s final. I have to travel some for work later tonight and I won’t be back until the end of the week. Charles seems to need more help with the presentation than I thought.”

And with that, the conversation was over. 

Over the course of the next few days, the internal debate with yourself about this audition lived rent free in your head. Should you listen to your mom and simply live out the plan she had for you? Or should you take a risk for once in your life and go for this audition? 

At this point what’s life without a little bit of risk?

On the day of your next piano lesson, you walked into Mrs. Ryland’s studio with your chin held high. “So, I assume you came to a decision about the audition?” she asked, sorting through her music.

“I did, I’m going to this audition.” 

Pulling into your driveway, you knew something was off. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but you just had a bad feeling. Walking into your house, the first thing you noticed was how quiet it was. “Mom,” you called out into the quiet house, only to hear the echo of your own voice. 

You made your way to your room, realizing that your door was already open and that your mom was sitting on the edge of your bed, “hey. What’s wrong?”

“I’m just thinking it’s so crazy that the school I said you couldn’t audition for is sending you mail about said audition. Isn’t that a bit weird?”

They weren’t supposed to send out the information until May, it’s April. Your words stuck to your tongue with a bitter aftertaste once you saw the pamphlet in her hand. Trying to figure out any form of explanation failed as you simply stared at her hands. 

“Congrats, by the way,” she said, in way too calm of a voice. 

You paused, choosing your next words carefully, “does this mean I get to go?”

She let out a deep chuckle, “you think that after going behind my back and trying out for this silly music school of yours, that I’ll let you go? Congrats on simply wasting your time for an audition you won’t actually be able to go to, my dear. Hope it was fun.”

And with those last words, she simply stood up and walked past you, but not before dropping the pamphlet in the trash right beside your door. 

…..

“You know, maybe it’s for the best that she’s not letting you go,” Asher said, as you walked back towards your house. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the music-hobby-thing that you have going for you is clearly taking up too much of your focus from what you actually need to focus on.”

A furrow set in your brows that wasn’t there before, “and what am I supposed to be focusing on?”

“You know, taking over your mom’s company, the thing that you actually have a future career in. Me and her talked about how you don’t take it seriously and if you want to be successful, then you need to focus,” he said, as the two of you walked up the stairs that led to your front door. “Maybe it’s for the best that you aren’t going to this school.”

Your hand froze on the door handle before you turned towards him, “what did you just say?”

“It’s probably for the best that you aren’t able to go to this school, you can focus on the important things and forget about this silly little music school.”

“But this ‘silly little music school’ is something I love doing. It makes me happy, shouldn’t that mean more than being successful?”

A small smirk crossed over his face, “you can’t be serious, y/n. Awe, c’mon, babe. You can’t be so naive to think that this silly fantasy of yours is going to work out?” You stayed quiet as every word cut through you sharper than the last. “I should have known you weren’t serious about taking over, I thought if I got to you, then I’d be set.”

“What do you mean ‘if you got to me’?”

He brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, “y/n, look, connections are connections and if I had to use someone to get those connections, so be it.”

Connections are connections?

Your parents. 

“You’re joking,” you said, biting the inside of your lip to keep any reaction at bay. 

“Look, it was never supposed to get this far and I’m sorry you’re getting the short end of the stick here, but I-”

“We’re done,” you quickly interrupted. You didn’t need to hear whatever bullshit response he would come up with.  

“Oh, babe, you know you’ll come running back soon enough. You really are showing just how naive you are today, aren’t you?” 

You didn’t process anything, but you felt the sting on your hand before you realized what you had done. “You should leave. We’re done and let it be known that I will never. Never. Come running back to you, Asher.” 

Before he could say anything else, the front door of your house opened, “oh Asher, so good to see you. You should-”

“He was just leaving,” you said, brushing past your mom, who simply tilted her head in confusion. 

“Bye, Mrs. y/l/n, I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Bye, Asher, get home safe,” she said, waving him off before coming back inside. “What was that all about?” 

“It was nothing, we just,” you paused. Would it really get you anywhere to explain the real reason you broke up? She’d agree with him about the music and the being unfocused and the… yeah, everything. “We realized that not everyone is going to last after school, so might as well speed up the process.”

“Oh, hun, are you going to be okay?” she asked with genuine sympathy. 

“Yeah, it’s for the best. I’m going to go ahead and go to bed.”

…..

“I just don’t understand, Ward, she’s not acting like herself and I know that even if they did break up, it wouldn’t affect her as much as it is now. There’s a piece of this that I’m missing,” your mother said over the phone. 

“I mean, it could have been anything. The stress of the breakup? Maybe things are piling on each other? The stress of college starting soon? The internship?” Ward listed off on the other end of the line, “ I know Rafe was in that spot this time last year, but he’s doing a lot better now after he got adjusted to it. Maybe just give her time?”

“I think she’s upset about not being able to go into the music program and every other stressor just added to that feeling. I’m giving her a few months to relax and process everything that is happening. Now that she’s done with high school, she has three months before the internship with me and business school starts.”

“This is just a suggestion, but do you think a vacation of sorts would benefit her? I know when Rafe gets in his head, it works better when he’s not around whatever is bothering him.”

“Where are you suggesting she goes, Ward? I don’t want her to take advantage of being on her own for too long.” 

“Let her come stay with me,” Ward offered, “we have the room up here, plus Sarah and Rafe are around her age, so she’ll have people. We’ll keep a good eye on here and there’s plenty to do to keep her occupied.”

“You sure about this?”

“Yeah, of course. I want to see her succeed and keep her head on straight just as much as you do,” he offered genuinely. As the two of them began arranging for you to travel to North Carolina, Ward heard the familiar sound of the lawnmower outside his office window and another idea popped into his head. 

Once the call had ended, Ward went out to his backyard where JJ Maybank was out mowing his lawn as Rose worked on the garden. “Would you have an issue with y/n staying here for a few months this summer?” he asked, making his way towards where Rose was pulling weeds. 

“Kelly’s daughter? You already know she’s welcome here anytime, especially if she’s willing to play the piano for us again,” Rose spoke, completely unaware that that was a part of the reason they were trying to get you to visit. 

“Yeah, she’s had a rough couple of weeks, so Kelly and I assumed some time away might be beneficial. She’ll be here within a week or so and be here at least til Midsummer’s, if not longer.”

“Awe, poor thing. I’ll go ahead and start setting up the guest room for her and let the kids know,” Rose said, leaving Ward and JJ outside just as the sound of the lawnmower cut off. 

“Hey, JJ. Whenever you’re done here, do you mind meeting me in my office, I need to talk to you about something really quick,” and with that JJ was left to his own devices. A rush of anxiety hit him like a brick. Had he done something to jeopardize his job? This job was his ticket to living on his own as soon as he saved up enough for it and if it was jeopardized, he was screwed. 

Taking a deep breath and shoving down whatever nerves he was dealing with, he quickly put the lawnmower back in the shed and made his way up to Ward’s office. Sarah had gotten him this job whenever she found out that he needed a stable and consistent income to be able to get the apartment that he wanted. Ward hired him as an ‘assistant’ of sorts and as long as he worked for him for at least six months, he would pull some strings to get him the apartment he wanted. 

Finding Ward’s office door already open, JJ still took the time to knock before stepping in, “if this is about that rose bush that I accidentally hit the other day, I already promised Rose I would help her replant it,” he rushed out, still unsure as to what this was all about. 

Ward’s laugh echoed around the room, “I promise this isn’t about the rose bush, son, but I appreciate you already telling Rose about it.”

“Okay,” he said, hesitantly, “what is this about then?” 

“A friend of mine’s daughter is going through a rough patch right now and is coming up here to visit. She already knows a few people here since she has visited before, but I was hoping I could trust you to introduce her to some new people and keep watch of her this summer.”

“So, essentially babysit her?”

“Well, in a way, yes, but not all the time. Kelly is trusting that she’ll be safe and I trust you enough to kinda help me with that. I will also speak to some people about getting you that apartment sooner than later, as long as all goes well. Obviously, I don’t expect you to spend all your time with her or have an extremely boring summer, just don’t get arrested.”

JJ thought about it for a moment, something was telling him that this could end very badly, but he needed to get the apartment as soon as he could. Ignoring whatever feelings of uncertainty he had about the situation, he hesitantly spoke again, “yeah, I can do that.”

“Good, she’ll be here sometime this week.”

….

Stepping off the ferry in a place that was somewhat familiar, yet so unknown was a weird feeling. You had visited here enough to have a small sense of familiarity, but it still seemed like a distant memory to you. Getting your luggage, you made your way past the gates to find Rafe, who would be picking you up. 

Rafe and you had connected over the many times that your families got together, usually being told to pay enough attention during whatever ordeal was taking place, whether that be business or casual. The two of you had many similarities in the dynamics that your families wanted you to go through, as both of you were expected to take over the family business, when in reality neither of you were too excited with the idea. 

Seeing the all too familiar polo and backwards hat, you immediately knew it was Rafe - even though he did hold the cheesy ‘Welcome Back From Prison’ sign that was payback from you doing the same a few years ago. “Wow, Rafe, good to know your humor is still there,” you said, as he pulled you in a hug. 

“Well, it’s been a while, Buttercup, so I had to make sure you wouldn’t think I got boring.”

“Rafe Andrew Cameron and the word boring don’t even sound right in the same sentence,” you quickly glanced around, “where are your boys?”

“Uh, Kelce had to do something with his mom, Topper would never be up this early, and Charlie is probably asleep, too. But we can crash whenever and I have plans with them later that they insisted I invite you to, so.”

“They, as in everyone, or they, as in mostly Charlie?”

“Bit of both, actually. All of them miss you, Charlie just happens to a bit more than the others,” he said, putting your bags into the truck. 

“Makes sense,” you said as you got into the truck and got ready to head to Tanneyhill. 

“So, I figured we could drop your stuff off, you say quick hellos, then we get breakfast with the boys, and then whatever else the day brings?” 

“Sounds good with me, Cameron.”

After arriving at Tanneyhill, Rose directed you towards the guest room that you usually stayed in and then you talked with her and Ward until it was time for breakfast with Rafe and the boys. Quickly texting the group chat about where to eat, the five of you decided on going to The Wreck. 

As soon as Rafe had parked, your door opened before you could even think about it, “hi, pretty girl,” Charlie’s all too familiar voice rang out. 

“Hi, Charlie. You almost scared me with how quick you opened the door, dude,” you spoke as you got out of the truck. Charlie had always been extremely flirtatious with you ever since the two of you met a few years ago, it was just the way the dynamic had always gone. You looked over to see Topper and Kelce waiting for you with Rafe as Charlie started talking to you about something totally random. 

“Yo, Miller, she’s barely been here an hour man, don’t talk her ear off already,” Kelce said as the five of you fell in line as you walked into the restaurant. 

“What can I say, I missed my girl,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“You know damn well that she’s never actually been your girl, Asher has been pretty prominent in her life for the past two years, dude,” Topper finally spoke, but his words caused you to visibly tense. 

“What was that?” Charlie asked, knowing you well enough to know you well enough to know something was up. 

“What was what?”

“You tensed up when we mentioned Asher,” Topper asked, a visible furrow in his brow. All of them shared a look of concern which quickly grew angry. 

“Did that asshole do something?” Kelce spoke up next. All three of them never liked Asher, which you just assumed was some toxic masculinity thing, but now you realize they might have seen through his act.

You made the effort to continue walking, but Charlie blocked your path, “I swear, y/n/n, if he did anything to you, I’ll kick his ass so hard-”

“Can I just- can I tell you guys later? Please,” the situation was still too raw for you to just talk about, especially with everyone being in a frenzy. “I promise I’ll tell you.” 

The four of them shared a look before nodding. Rafe was the one to break the silence, “let’s go eat, guys.”

“Is that who I think it is?” Mr. C’s voice rang out. 

“Hi, Mr. C, how are you?” 

“I’m good, honey. It’s nice to see you, how have you been?” 

The boys sat at their normal table while you stayed to chat with Mr. C, but you had caught someone’s attention from across the room. “Earth to JJ,” Sarah said, waving her hand in front of him.

“Sorry, what?” 

“I asked if you were still planning on stopping by for my birthday party, but y/n got all your attention,” she answered, laughing at JJ’s eyes still drifting over to look at you. 

“Who is she?” 

“y/n y/l/n, her mom is friends with my dad and she’s staying with us for most of the summer. 

Oh fuck. 

-------

taglist: @vntgkenz @dojacatismywife @gillybear17 (if you want to be tagged, either send an ask or just comment!!)

[edwardskhakipants]

Forks, Washington. August 2004.

Esme and Carlisle stood in the middle of their grand living room, waiting for their five vampire children to arrive. Alice arrived first—prompt as usual. She settled herself gracefully onto the tufted sofa Esme had recently acquired, only to be immediately jostled by Emmett who heaved himself onto the cushions. A breath caught in Esme’s throat—she had lost many pieces from her beloved collection by that action—but it looked like this one was still in one piece. For the moment. Jasper took Edward’s normal spot in the only armchair, forcing Edward to wedge himself between Alice and Emmett.

“What?” Rosalie grumbled as she perched on the armrest of the couch beside Emmett, “Are we having another one of those How to Respect the Telepath in Your Life meetings again?”

“No,” Edward answered, fully aware of the intent of this meeting since it hatched in Carlisle's mind two days prior. “But there’s never a bad time to bring that up. Christ, Emmett, if you’re going to have a song stuck in your head for over seventy-two hours, the least you can do is learn the correct lyrics.”

Emmett’s eyebrows knit together, asking his brother a silent question.

“It’s ‘mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,’” Edward answered.

Emmett’s brow furrowed doubtfully.

“No.” Edward shook his head, answering Emmett’s thoughts. “Why would he eat a beetle?”

Emmett grinned playfully and tilted his head towards Edward.

Edward wasn’t amused. “You know what it means.”

A silly grin plastered on his face, Emmett elbowed Edward in the ribs, silently egging him on.  

Edward’s eyes darted to Carlisle, then Esme, and he shifted in his seat. “Sexual desire,” he muttered.  

Emmett howled with laughter and clapped his hands once, “Wow, Eddie! You’re just going to say that in front of Esme!?” Edward scowled as Emmett’s bouts of laughter echoed through the room.

Esme ran a hand through her youngest’s ginger hair. “Boys,” she warned, and Emmett sucked in his laughter.

“Our meeting today has to do with all of you,” Carlisle began.

“We simply wanted to go over the rules of attending school with you kids before you start your second year at Forks High School,” Esme explained, unfolding and re-folding her hands in front of her. “There are already whispers, and we don’t want those whispers to turn into rumors.”

“I thought the only whispers about us at school were whether or not Edward liked girls,” Rosalie said, earning an eye-roll from Edward.

“No,” Alice chirped,” Some kids think we’re a cult.”

Jasper leaned back heavily in his chair. “We haven’t heard that one since the Seventies.”

“Kids are getting more creative these days.” Emmett nodded appreciatively.

Esme held up one, delicate finger. “Which is why it is best to take preventative action.”

Carlisle took the floor. “We thought a few reminders would be helpful before you started your first day of your second year,” Carlisle said. “We don’t want another incident like the one we had at the end of last year.”

Every head in the room turned towards Emmett.

“What?” Emmett threw up his hands in exasperation, “The water gun fight was the senior prank—I wasn’t the one who brought them to the school. Hell, I wasn’t even the only student who got suspended!”

“That’s true,” Carlisle agreed, “but you were the only student to shout, ‘Sit down, kids! Daddy’s gotta tinkle,’ and shoot the stream of the gun from your crotch.”

Jasper snickered—the sound was immediately silenced by a single raised eyebrow from Esme.

“I still don’t see the problem,” Emmett continued, “That’s not necessarily a vampire thing.”

Edward—who often mistook himself as the third vampire parent rather than the youngest son—sighed, “Yes, but it brings unnecessary attention to the family. Which is the first rule: do not bring attention to yourself.”

Esme ran her fingers through her son’s hair once more, “Yes, darling, you are especially good at keeping to yourself.” Edward’s eyes widened, despite Esme’s gentle touch, already aware of where her point was headed. “So much so, that I have been given the names of several child therapists to help my son through his depression. One was recommended for his exceptional work on spotting and treating the early signs of sociopathic behavior.”

Esme grabbed her son’s chin and forced him to look at her. “You have to talk to other people.”

Knocked off his high horse, Edward flinched back from Esme’s hand. “Friendship with humans never bodes well for us.”

“We’re not asking you to create lifelong friendships with humans,” Carlisle clarified, “We are simply asking you to be likable.”

“A nearly impossible feat for Edward.” Rosalie grinned. The comment went unnoticed, save Edward’s slight flinch. But the quick, little tick was satisfying enough for Rose.

“Look at your father,” Esme gestured towards Carlisle, “At every hospital he works at, he goes out of his way to ensure he is well-liked among his colleagues. He forces down countless lunches and coffees, solely to make sure they’re comfortable around him.”

Carlisle took over. “And your mother, a beloved member of her gardening club and a prized member of the PTA.”

“And neither of us have rumors started about us, and do you know why?”

All five teenagers grumbled the ingrained response. “Humans don’t want to spread rumors about people they like.”

“Exactly.” Esme nodded.

“I try!” Alice whined, “But Edward never lets me talk to any humans.”

“That’s because every, single thing that is about to come out of your mouth is incriminating. You might as well walk around with a neon sign that says, ‘I’m a psychic vampire’.”

Alice scoffed, “Is not!”

“You wanted to tell Nihal Howard not to audition for the musical.”

“And he broke his leg on opening night,” Alice challenged.  

“You were going to tell Christiana Ward that pink was not her color.”

“And she lost prom queen to Ashley Kirby.”

Jasper put a comforting hand on his wife’s knee. “Maybe try not to meddle so much, darlin’. Natural relationships, first.”

“They would have been!” Alice wailed, “I would have played it cool and casual and made friends and you all would have seen it! But everyone’s hurt and I have no friends at all because Edward won’t let me try!”

Edward rolled his eyes.

Carlisle suppressed a heavy sigh. “You have to let your sister try, Edward.”

Edward’s mouth fell open. “You cannot seriously be siding with her on this!”

But Carlisle stood his ground. He and Edward stared at one another for a few seconds, engaged in a silent conversation. In the end, Carlisle tilted his chin and Edward slumped back. Victorious, Alice used both pointer fingers to jab Edward in the side several dozen times at vampire speed.

Rosalie flipped her golden locks over her shoulder. “I don’t know how you all struggle so much. I have no issues with becoming well-liked at school while remaining inconspicuous.”

“Oh yeah, you’re so inconspicuous,” Edward grumbled, now extra-petty that he had been called out two times in one meeting. “You dress like you're on your way to brunch at your second husband’s country club in Beverly Hills and you make out with your foster brother. The perfect picture of discretion in Forks High School.”

“At least I don’t dress like a sad, old man.” Rosalie grimaced, disappointed in her comeback. The light, humorous insults that were required in family situations were Emmett’s forte; Rosalie’s insults were meant to emotionally cripple a person.

Edward sat up in his seat on the couch and turned to face Rosalie. “I think you missed the main takeaway in that you make out with your foster brother.” Edward turned back. “I can read your minds, and I still don’t understand what made either of you think it was okay to bring your relationship to school?!”

Emmett smiled, unperturbed. “It’s hot.”

“It’s disturbing,” Edward disagreed.

Esme frowned, “You kids don’t really do that, do you?”

“Would it help if Jasper and I became an official couple too?” Alice suggested.     Jasper perked up at the idea of being able to hold hands with Alice in public again.

“No!” Edward yelled at the same time Emmett and Rosalie muttered their acquiesce.

“It wouldn’t seem as weird if there were two couples,” Emmett agreed.

Edward dug his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god!”

“...maybe not, kids,” Esme intervened, but was ultimately ignored.

“So should we come out today like it happened over the summer, or make a little show out of it?” Alice asked Rosalie.

Rosalie waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s way more fun if you play up the theatrics.”

“A little more realistic, too,” Emmett agreed.

Alice looked to Jasper for his opinion. “It might be better if we were discreet about it,” she said. “Like we knew it was wrong, but we wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of our love.”

Jasper scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Or we could let it be quiet and drawn out. Let others see our mutual pining, and root for us to be together.”

Gazing deep into the golden eyes of her soulmate, Alice sighed, “I love that.”

“If people wanted us to get together, it would normalize Emmett and Rosalie’s relationship.”

“Or Rosalie and Emmett could stop,” Edward suggested, bitterly. “That would be normal, too.”

“Oh, Edward,” Alice patted his shoulder, “You’ll find love someday, too.”

“That is not at all what bothers me about the situation.”

Carlisle made the decision for everyone. “Rosalie and Emmett, break up at school. Alice and Jasper, remain friends and siblings.”

Disappointment filtered into the room through Jasper.  

“I heard that,�� Edward grumbled at someone’s thoughts.

“You were supposed to,” Rosalie shot back.

“We are also initiating a new rule,” Esme brought the room back to the conversation at hand, “No more correcting your teachers.”

A chorus of complaints rang from the couch.

Esme clicked her tongue, “I’m tired of defending you all from entirely preventable issues. I have emails from curious teachers wondering why my foster daughter is taking French 101, when she already appears to be fluent.” Esme looked at Rosalie, who immediately tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Or why my son, at the tender age of sixteen, could not only deadlift three hundred pounds in his first weightlifting class, but also give his coach tips on improving his posture.”

Emmett glanced over at Edward before he realized Esme was, in fact, addressing him. “What!?”

Jasper snorted. The sound was a mistake, for it brought Esme’s wrath onto him. “And not to mention the emails from not one, not two, but three teachers warning me that my foster son has an intimate understanding of the mechanics of a point fifty-eight caliber rifle-musket.” Esme held out her hands, almost pleadingly, “How does that subject keep coming up, Jasper?”

A noncommittal grunt was the only answer Jasper had for that question.

“No more,” she commanded. “You can get good grades but keep your extra knowledge on any subject to yourself. Whatever your teacher teaches is all you know. Understand?”

“But what if we—” Edward started.

“Understand?” Esme repeated.

The five teenage vampires understood, even if they didn’t want to. 

“I believe that all five of you will graduate from Forks High School!” Esme cheered.

The kids stared back, unable to muster the zeal Esme had over the prospect.

“Meeting adjourned!” Carlisle announced, and faster than fast vampire speed, the kids bolted from their seats. 

Esme was able to get in a few more reminders as her children flitted around the house and filed out to the silver Volvo.  “Remember to buy lunch with cash and not your credit cards. Emmett, please do not joke about being mauled by a bear. Do not address your teachers by their first names—I don’t care if you’re older than they are, Edward. Alice, please wear something a bit more causal, pet.”

When the house was finally empty, Carlisle pulled Esme backwards into his chest and began massaging her temples. The gesture wasn’t needed, but any touch from her husband was always welcome.

“Do you think they’ll listen?” she asked her husband.

“Not a chance.”

[sta7z]

“The Kiss”  Dark!Yandere!Nancy Wheeler x Fem!Reader )Part 2(

Warnings ⛓ Yandere things ⛓Character disappearence

⛓Non detailed depictions of gore ⛓a bad attempt at a plot twist ⛓Breakdowns ⛓Musical Theatre 🎭

You had been studying with Nancy for your midterms for a few days now, and alternating between reading Frankenstein. You entered the home, it seemed strangely empty. Mrs Wheeler was usually home by now, and Mike should definitely be home. He said on the Walkie-Talkie he would be there before me… never the less you walked up the steps and to the door of Nancy’s Room.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Nancy opened the door so fast it was as if she was waiting there. “Y/N!! Just give me a moment, I need to get cleaned up.” You waited outside for a while and Nancy let you in. She had a radio in her room, that was new. “Oh! You noticed! I got it a while ago, Robin and I saved up some money for it, so I figured we could listen while we study today. Are there any stations you prefer?” You shook your head and suggested simply music. As the two of you went through your Flashcards and Cornell notes, the music came to an abrupt stop.

꧁ ༺☽⛓♡ .♱. ♡⛓☾༻ ꧂Flashback

The bell rung, but you weren’t going to leave. You had rehearsals today for your school’s production of Grease! You were somehow chosen as Sandy. Everyone, including yourself, thought that local cheerleader and absolutely angel Chrissy Cunningham, but nope! It was you. And by some miraculous chance Steve Harrington auditioned and got the role of Danny. Every time you asked Steve about it he said it was a dare from Billy and he hadn’t even seen Grease! But In the past few month of rehearsals, Steve was becoming a bit of a Thespian.

The kissing scene, the easiest yet most difficult thing to rehearse. “Hey listen, it’s not like we’re actually in love or anything right?” Steve laughed. “I mean, the way she sung Hopelessly Devoted, I would say she wants to marry ya Stevie!” Carol butted in. You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your water. “I’m right here Yknow. And I’m just a little nervous…” Carol gasped. You knew what she was going to say. You gave her a glare cold enough to freeze a Hawkin’s Summer. “Hey listen, you don’t have to do the kiss, I can convince the teacher to change it to a hug or a fake kiss! Whatever makes you comfortable, alright Y/N?” Steve Fucking Harrington, the sweetest jerk you’ve ever met. You couldn’t help but feel safe around him. He had this… mom-ish feel to him. As hot as Ralph Macchio, if not hotter. And as sweet as Dopey (yes, the dwarf).

You finished rehearsals and rode your bike on the way to Mike’s house.

꧁ ༺☽⛓♡ .♱. ♡⛓☾༻ ꧂

“Hawkin’s Radio is having an abrupt stop to announce that the remains a local person was found approximately 20 meters away from Hawkin’s Highschool. Authorities are trying to identify the individual and cause of death as we speak.” Everything else was a blur, who was it? Who would do something like this? “Fuck” you turned to Nancy “D-Do you think it’s…one of them” you shuddered at the thought of those monsters. Nancy was about to console you when suddenly, almost conveniently, the phone rang. Nancy got up to answer, “Robin, baby, you alright?” You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation except for Nancy’s worried responses. “Okay, stay safe, I love you.” She hung up. “I’m really sorry about that Y/N. Robin had some… issues to sort out.”

You sighed and turned the radio back on. Nancy was holding you, you couldn’t help but shake in anticipation. “According to athorites finding an intact finger, it can be determined that the victim was Steve Harrington”Nancy dug her nails into you at that very moment. Your heart sunk, that’s… that’s not right. Right? It couldn’t be. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” It sounded more directed to you than to the situation. You tried to look up at her but she pushed your head back down. “I- I just. I hate seeing you upset.” She sounded more frustrated than anything.

꧁ ༺☽⛓♡ .♱. ♡⛓☾༻ ꧂

“Nance?” You said wiping your tears. You had fallen asleep. She wasn’t there. “Well did they find anything else? He could be just walking around with 9 fingers!” It was Robin. “No, there’s no way.” Nancy said in a matter of fact way. “It’s all my fault.” Robin broke down, “What about Carol? What about Y/N?” She sounded so… guilty. And to think about it. What type of Highschooler knows 4 languages, including Russian. And demogorgans don’t chop people up. You would need more evidence but, you were onto something.

꧁ ༺☽⛓♡ .♱. ♡⛓☾༻ ꧂

Poor Nancy, doesn’t know she’s dating a, possible,killer.

[hyperfixatedimagines]

The Moon & Her Star Ch.4

Summary: You’re a star now, with all the eyes on you…so why do you still crave to be bathed in moonlight?

A/N: Quick short chapter to tide y’all over. I think I’m going to be extending this series to maybe about eight or ten chapters as I want to cover all of season one. Again if you have any requests feel free to drop me a line.

The week after opening night (y/n) had sought out a private moment with Luna.

Raving reviews in the school newspaper, and locally trending hashtags had made (y/n) a star on the rise. Now, everyone at Constance knew her name and said hello as she passed by. Now, she was surrounded by a posse of freshman girls who simply had to know how she’d done it. She had fans. And her Instagram follower count had skyrocketed. So (y/n) thought now was the time to ask Luna for another chance. Now they were on the same level…right?

Sure (y/n) was the theater department’s, moreover the whole arts program at Constance, darling and star but it would it be enough to date Luna La?

For weeks (y/n) tried to catch Luna alone to no avail. She was always with Julien or Monet. So in a desperate attempt to see her, (y/n) purposely got detention every day for a whole week. Which was all for nothing as she had not seen Luna. The following week she debating whether or not to keep getting detention since it seemed unlikely she’d see Luna, but (y/n) decided to give it one last try.

Monday afternoon she marched into Mr. Smith’s class for detention. (Y/N) opened the door to find Luna sitting by the windows, adjusting her hair as she tried to take a selfie. Her heart raced. She didn’t know if she should play it cool or not as they weren’t alone this time. So (y/n) sat a seat away, within reach but not too close.

Luna noticed (y/n) and put her phone down. She wasn’t sure what to do. Sure, (y/n) was somewhat popular now but she was still poor. Despite (y/n)’s talent she still came from the wrong side of the city. Luna wanted nothing more than to jump into (y/n)’s arms but she didn’t have the privilege of following her heart. So she continued to look at her phone, all the while looking at (y/n) from the edge of the camera.

Mr. Smith excused himself to the teacher’s lounge. Once he was gone the other kids relaxed and started talking amongst themselves. One girl even came up to sit next to (y/n), saying she was really blown away by (y/n)’s performance. The girl was obviously flirting and Luna found a certain green monster creeping up on her.

(Y/N) was not good with girls, so she had no idea the cute girl who had come to sit next to her was flirting.

“I really want to audition for the spring musical. Maybe you can tutor me?” The girl asked, leaning closer to (y/n) and twirling some of her hair in between her fingers.

(Y/n) nodded. “Yeah, did you audition this year? Maybe we could look at your tape and see what aspects we should focus on?”

The girl put her hand on (y/n)’s arm, and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you so much for your help (y/n). I’m so lucky someone as talented, and beautiful, as you would help me.”

Luna rolled her eyes. This girl was being so obvious and it looked like you had no clue…or were you just faking being oblivious? Were you trying to make Luna jealous? Now she wasn’t so sure. It didn’t sound like you but on the other hand Luna couldn’t believe you were really that dense.

(Y/n) blushed. “You’re so sweet thank you.”

The girl tucked a lock of stray hair behind (y/n)’s ear. “Are you seeing anyone? I’d love to take you to dinner sometime?”

Luna packed up her things. She couldn’t bear to hear this girl flirt with you any longer. She put her things away and got up to move when she head your reply.

“I’m not seeing anyone at the moment but…my heart belongs to someone else. Sorry.”

Luna couldn’t help but smile. She turned to you, and the girl next to you, and stuck her hand out. “(Y/n) come with me to the bathroom. I don’t want professor Wick to catch me and give me another day of detention.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Okay,” she said and took Luna’s hand.

Luna lead her out. (Y/n) turned back to the girl and called out.

“If you still want my help I’m free on Wednesdays.”

The girl scoffed and walked back to her original seat.

-

The walk to the bathroom was quiet.

Neither of them knew exactly how to start the conversation. Luna had impulsively asked for (y/n)’s company but didn’t know how to talk to her.

They never really talked.

Once inside the bathroom Luna checked to make sure they were alone then locked the door. (Y/n) stood next to the sinks and cleared her throat.

“I’m guessing you aren’t actually worried about professor Wick?”

Luna let out a laugh. “My parents had a talk with him last week. It’s actually Mr. Smith who gave me detention earlier today.”

(Y/n) nodded.

Luna walked up to the sinks, next to (y/n) and started to touch up her makeup.

“So, you’re quite the star around here aren’t you?”

(Y/n) smiled halfheartedly. “I guess you could say that.”

Luna caught the look on (y/n)’s face out of the corner of her eye. “Stardom not quite what you thought it’d be?”

“I don’t know. I thought I’d be happy with all the positive attention but…..,” (y/n) let out a sigh. “It’s exhausting.”

“Life under the spotlight isn’t as easy as it looks,” Luna replied.

(Y/n) let out a laugh. “Ha, I know that now.” (Y/n) leaned against the wall and looked down at her shoes. “All this attention and the one person I want it from doesn’t ever look my way…no matter how great I am.”

Luna lowered her mascara wand. She stared down at the sink in silence. Deep down she knew she was too much of a coward to ever be with (y/n)…regardless of whatever talent (y/n) possessed.

“I’m sorry,” was all Luna could say.

(Y/n) stood up and straightened herself. “It’s fine. I was delusional to think being a theater star meant I could-“, she stopped herself.

She looked over at Luna and saw the tears falling down the sides of her face. (Y/n) grabbed a napkin and started to dab at Luna’s face.

“I’m sorry don’t cry I didn’t-,” (y/n) began but Luna cut (y/n) off with her lips.

(Y/n) would never get tired of kissing Luna La. The feel of Luna’s warm, supple lips against hers, and the taste of her peach lip gloss made (y/n)’s head spin.

They kissed…and they kept kissing.

Luna pushed (y/n) back against the wall, cupping (y/n)’s face.

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around Luna’s waist and pulled her close.

They kissed for so long they heard girls banging on the door for someone to unlock it but they didn’t care.

Luna didn’t want to stop, and for once she would indulge her desires. (Y/n) wouldn’t dare to quit.

It wasn’t until a janitor unlocked the door that the girls pulled apart. The janitor looked at them both and sighed.

“Ladies this is not a nightclub,” she said before kicking them out.

Luna grabbed her things and walked out, (y/n) not far behind. Once they had made it out to the courtyard they both burst out laughing. Luna grabbed onto (y/n)’s arm to steady herself as the laughs continued.

(Y/n) smiled and wiped a tear of laughter from Luna’s cheek. Luna stopped laughing and looked around.

There were students milling about. Some of them stopped to look at the two girls. Luna swallowed hard and took out her mirror. She took a tissue from her bag and fixed herself.

“You need to go,” she whispered.

(Y/n) furrowed her brow. “What? Why?”

Luna took her makeup bag out and reapplied. “Because people are staring and wondering why the two of us are laughing…why we’re even standing next to each other.”

“Right,” (y/n) said with a sigh. “Guess it was nice while it lasted.” She turned to leave.

“Wait,” Luna said, her voice just above a whisper. “Meet me at our place after school.”

“Why,” (y/n) replied, her back still towards Luna.

“Please (y/n),” was all Luna said before she put her things away and left.

(Y/n) walked to her locker, unsure if she should meet Luna. She had a feeling where things were headed and she didn’t want to be Luna’s secret girlfriend again. She wanted to be Luna’s girlfriend in front of the whole school. She wanted to shout from the rooftops how much she loved Luna La…she didn’t want a clandestine love affair.

As her lips tingled with the ghost of Luna’s lips (y/n) knew that she would do anything to be with Luna. Even if it meant being Luna’s dirty little secret.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 4)

i hope yall enjoyed the last part, we took a sudden and quite dirty turn ther,e but we are heading down romantic street and its all sweet and cute with a little hotness. let me know what you thought about the part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4.7k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Harry Styles managed to leave quite the impression in you following his late night visit after the Emmys. He surely surprised you with not only the unbelievable orgasm he gave you with his talented fingers, but also with how big of a gentleman he really was, so keen on taking you out on a date first before he would kiss you. The timeline got a little messed up and he did apologize before he left at two in the morning for getting too carried away, but you assured him he didn’t do anything you didn’t want him to. To be honest, you wouldn’t have had a word against him kissing you right away, but you liked the respect he had for you, not something you’ve had plenty of lately. The men you dealt with in the past year were eager to get into your pants without the respect part, only hungry to earn fame through you, trying to blind you with sex so you wouldn’t realize their ugly motives.

This was not a threat when it came to Harry, he was just as famous as you, maybe even more. He had his own career, his own money, his own life apart from yours and he clearly wasn’t trying to use you and it was quite a refreshing change for you.

He stayed and the two of you talked so much, just sharing crazy stories from your life before and after fame, enjoying that you had someone who shared more or less the same background as you. Apart from Florence, you pretty much kept your old friends when your career took off, afraid to make new ones, always feeling a little paranoid that new people would have unholy motives when they try to befriend you.

Though you truly love your friends, they don’t really see behind the life you are living, while Harry completely does. His company is the best you’ve had in a long time, he is able to make you completely forget about everything outside the room you two are in.

You tried your best to hide your disappointment when he left that night. After offering him to stay in one of your guest bedrooms, he politely turned it down, and even though you could tell he wanted to stay, the urge to be a gentleman was greater in him, something you admire him for.

He left with the promise to see you soon on a real date and he got you as excited as a little school girl on the day of a fieldtrip.

However, given the lifestyles you two were living, finding a suitable evening for the both of you turns out to be a bigger struggle than you expected. Harry reaches out right the next day after his little visit. A good morning text waits for you by the time you open your eyes in the noon and by the evening he asks you out, however you have to realize the date has to wait a little.

You have two trip outside the city upcoming in the next two weeks and he is also planning to fly back to London for a while, the trips totally crashing in the timeline, not even having just the smallest window that would fit the both of you.

Accepting the fact that it would have to wait a little longer, you keep in close touch, eager to find the date that would finally be suitable for you and him as well. Endless texts, sweet calls and sneaky FaceTimes scatter through the days you spend apart and you find it hard to think of a time when he wasn’t hitting you up all the time.

On a Thursday evening, after a long day of fittings for upcoming events, you find yourself sitting on your couch with a sweet glass of wine, scrolling through your social media feeds when something catches your eyes.

Harry has been away in Los Angeles in the past few days and he mentioned having an interview the other day, but you didn’t think it would be out so soon, but here it was, a short video clip cut out by some random page that had a rather interesting title.

“Harry Styles talks about next album and mystery girl in his life.”

Your curiosity is way too strong not to click on it and have a look at it, so taking a sip from your wine you tap on the link and let the video load.

“It’s been some time since your last album came out, have you been working on new music lately?” the interviewer asked from behind the camera as Harry sat on a lilac sofa, wearing black high-waisted pants with a pink and white floral printed shirt tugged into it, his suspenders topping the look perfectly. His green eyes are fixed on the person asking him as he nods.

“Yeah, I think I never really stop making new music. I do have sessions when I’m trying to put a new album together, but I also write in the meantime as well, whenever I have an idea or inspiration. I don’t hold back,” he adds with a cheeky smile.

“Have you found any inspiration lately?” the question is heard and Harry nods once again.

“I have, actually,” he answers shortly, but his smirk gives it away that there’s a lot more behind his words and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. Is he talking about you?

“Has it been a person?” the reporter inquires, making Harry’s smile grow wider.

“A lot of things and people inspire me.”

“Alright, and is your latest inspiration something or someone new in your life?” the guy tries again, even though it’s well known that Harry likes to give vague answers instead of straight yeses and nos.

“Kind of new,” he simply answers and the reporter realizes he won’t be sharing more about the topic so he moves on with the next question and the video cuts out right there.

Though it wasn’t mentioned that he was talking about someone in particular, his fans drew the assumption that he is definitely seeing someone who has been his inspiration behind his new music. Feeling bold and a little flirty, you open up your messages and send him a quick text.

“A kind of new inspiration, huh?”

His reply comes almost right away, as always.

“Have you been stalking fanpages about me?”

“Would it be weird?”

“From you? It’s flattering. Little scary, but in a good way.”

You can’t help but chuckle reading his words. He never fails to make you laugh, you find his humor your favorite kind, never hurtful, but a little spicy, if you could say that, a lot of irony laced into it.

“Back to the topic: what’s your inspiration? Or should I ask… who is your inspiration?”

“Not gonna beat around the bush and just admit it…”

You wait and wait… and wait, but nothing comes afterwards and you are dying to have him admit that it’s been you, but not even the three dots appear at the bottom, so you take the lead again.

“Well, do it. Admit it, Styles!”

The fucker likes your message right away, meaning he has been in the thread all along, waiting for you to write something.

“Alright, but don’t tell anyone, because she is kinda famous and I don’t want the media to find out about it.”

“You have my silence.”

You watch the three dots dance at the bottom, holding your breath while you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to contain your wide grin that’s been plastered across your face this whole time.

When the text finally arrives you snort loudly, almost spilling your wine, laughing so hard you are happy you don’t like in a tiny apartment anymore with paper walls, because your neighbor would have definitely heard your laughter all the way down the hallway.

“It’s Betty White. Fuck, she is all I can think about.”

You need a minute to stop the laughter and type your reply.

“She is hot, gotta give you that.”

“Right?? I hope she is not afraid to date younger guys though.”

“I’m sure she would make an exception for you.”

“I hope so too.”

There’s a short pause, where you just read back his lines, chuckling to yourself some more. He always has a witty comment or comeback, no matter what you’re talking about and not once has he made you laugh madly on a set, at a meeting or just lying in bed before going to sleep.

“Joke aside, would it scare you away if I said I have definitely written about you?”

“Is this another theoretical question? Like the one you asked me on Ellen?”

You smile to yourself thinking back at the conversation the two of you had on the show when he was trying to figure out if you’d be up to give him your number.

“Maybe. So theoretically, would that be weird to you?”

“No,” you write, but quickly send another text. “But you know, it’s just theory. You’d have to tell me for real to find out.”

“Should have saw that coming…”

“Yeah, you really should have,” you muse to yourself, finishing up your glass and you carefully put it to your coffee table before sliding further down on the couch to get back to the conversation with Harry. You see that he hasn’t sent anything after his last one, so you decide to actually answer his question.

“Joke aside from my part, I wouldn’t find it weird. I think it’s flattering.”

“Okay, because I was ready to burn all my notes if you said it would be too much.”

“What if you’d be burning a Grammy worthy song though?”

“Would be a shame. But I would still burn it for you.”

“You are such a flirt…”

“Can’t help it! Or should I not be?”

“I like it. So don’t change.”

“Noted.”

Your little conversation has to come to an end since he is about to go into a meeting, but when you say your goodbyes and decide it’s time to head to bed, you already know a text will be waiting for you when you wake up in the morning.

Days and even weeks go by and you start to have a little too much on your plate. No matter how much you love your job and that it has always been your dream, sometimes you just need a breather. In the past week you’ve been in and out of auditions for a movie they keep top secret, you didn’t even get a script, just a few pages you had to memorize and they’ve been asking for more and more tapes from you with kind of absurd requests, but your agent told you it’s something major, that’s why they are so secretive. However, when they ask you to come in for another reading for the fifth time in seven days and you still don’t know what you are really auditioning for, you are kind of starting to have enough with all your other projects running at the same time. Your days start at six in the morning and rarely end before eleven in the night.

An entire month after the night Harry came over to your place, you kind of lose patience. The frustration that’s been building up inside you just simply bursts when your agent texts you on your way home that you’d have to go in for another casting in the morning for the same mystery movie.

“Have they not seen my face enough?” you snap, hands meeting the wheel as you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you.

“I’m sorry, Hun. I know it’s annoying, but they requested you, that means you are still an option for them.” Mona’s voice comes through the speakers of the car since your phone is connected to it.

“Do they need me to read the whole fucking Bible in front of a camera or what?” you growl.

“I have a good feeling about this last one, alright? And if they still can’t decide after that, we can always just say that we want out.”

“Then I would be labelled as the problematic little princess,” you sigh, knowing well how this industry works. Just one mistake and you can easily end up in a theoretical ditch.

“Just hold on a little longer, okay? I’ll send you the details in email and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Bye, girl.”

Mona is an angel. She’s been your agent for about five years now, she is the one who gets you into castings, well, at least that’s what she was doing before you managed to reach your breakthrough. She got your name on lists you couldn’t even dare to dream of and she is the reason why you are here today. Now she mostly handles requests for you to go in for castings, creators started to reach out to you a while ago, though Mona still works her magic sometimes to get you into castings that are still out of your league.

By the time you get home, you are desperate to do something. Anything. You’ve been nonstop working these past weeks and you just need to get out of this loop that sucked you in. Before you could even think through what you’re doing, you dial Harry’s number.

He is back in the city, that you know of because he texted even before he got home. You both ditched the idea of having your date today, because you just knew it would be a long day for you, and it’s the truth, it’s past ten, so not quite ideal for a date, but you ran out of fucks to give.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” he asks, noticing that you called, which is not what you usually do, or at least not without checking in if he is free to talk.

“Yeah, sorry I called so randomly. Are you busy?” you ask, feeling a little out of breath, even though you definitely didn’t do anything physically hard. You just can’t help but feel anxious since you are about to ask him out on a spontaneous date.

“No, just… packing and all that. What’s up?”

“So you don’t have anything to do right now?” you clear up.

“No,” he chuckles.

“Alright, so then… what do you say we have that date now?”

Even with him always being so blunt and open about how interested he is in you, it still makes you perfect to ask him out. The silence that comes from his side doesn’t necessarily help either and you are already preparing yourself to get rejected.

“You know it’s ten pm, right?” he then asks, a little unsure if you really thought it through.

“I am aware, yes.”

“Don’t you have work in the morning? I know you always start your days so early, I don’t want to be the reason why yo—“

“Harry,” you stop him midsentence. “I do not give a fuck about what I’m doing in the morning,” you bluntly tell him and you can tell he is smiling on the other end of the call. “So the question is still the same. Do you want to have that date now?”

He doesn’t ask anything else, just simply say the following: “I’ll pick you up in thirty.”

“Make it twenty,” you tell him and end the call before he could protest.

Ignoring the adrenaline rush you that just washed over your body you quickly make your way to the bathroom to take the quickest cold shower before putting on some clean clothes. You really don’t want to overdo it, knowing well since it’s so abrupt he wouldn’t be taking you anywhere that would require you look spotless. You choose not to put on any makeup, not just because you don’t have the time, but also because you feel a weird urge to just be bare, be yourself around him. The same goes for your outfit. You put aside all designer clothes and opt for a simple pair of jeans, a black tank top and a bright yellow knitted jumper over it, looking awfully casual, but feeling rather comfortable.

It takes Harry 22 minutes to get to your place, but you choose not to comment on those two extra minutes when you get into his car. Luckily, he isn’t dressed to impress either, wearing a simple pair of jeans with some kind of washed out, vintage printed tee shirt with his Bode Jacket he has worn in his famous SNL episode. His hair looks a little mess and even wet, making you wonder if your call caught him in the middle of a shower or he showered after you agreed to meet up.

“Long time no see,” he smiles at you, his boyish smirk making your heart flutter so easily as he eyes you while you buckle yourself up.

“You had plenty of paparazzi photos to look at in the meantime, Mr. Styles,” you smirk at him teasingly as he starts the car and leaves from in front of your complex.

“My favorite was the ones of you where you were walking out of a restaurant wearing that silk dress and the coat.”

“So you did see pap pictures?” you ask chuckling, you didn’t mean it entirely, but you find it funny that he actually saw pictures of you.

“You know, it’s been hard to avoid you online, especially because I keep liking all your posts so my phone thinks I’m interested in you. Which is true, and I’m not complaining about the content I’ve been seeing about you lately,” he admits chuckling and your eyes wander down to his ring clad fingers on the wheel. Your thoughts take you back to when they were touching you at places you haven’t been touched in a while. How they felt inside you and how desperate he could make you with just his hands.

You force yourself to look away from his hands and focus on the present time before your arousal becomes way too evident.

“Sorry I’m everywhere,” you smirk at him, enjoying the situation maybe a little too much.

“Don’t be,” he chuckles, glancing in your way for a moment, his green eyes meeting your gaze. “I don’t mind it,” he adds and those damn butterflies as quick to act up again in your stomach.

You don’t try to get him to tell where you are headed, wanting it to be a surprise yourself, so you just stare out at the night city as it runs past you, still quite a lot of people walking on the streets even though it’s now nearing eleven.

What you know is that you’re still in Manhattan and it seems like you won’t leave it either. Harry navigates his way through the city easily, he is not even using GPS, something you could never do. No matter how long you’ve been living here, you’ll always get lost in this jungle some call New York City. About fifteen minutes after leaving your complex, Harry parks the car down in a spot he found along the road, and looking out the window you’re trying to figure out where you are, but it doesn’t ring a bell. Seems just like a usual part of the Upper West Side, so now he has you curious about his plans.

“Where did you bring me, Mr. Styles?” you ask him as the two of you meet on the sidewalk and he glances at your with a sly smirk.

“Since you gave me such a short notice about our date, I thought I would show you one of my favorite places in the city and I hope you haven’t it.” “Well, I can assure you I don’t know it, because I have no idea what could be here,” you admit.

Harry nods at you to follow him and you walk side by side until the next corner.

“I think you already know that I’m English,” he starts off, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty evident,” you nod.

“So, in the past decade I haven’t spent as much time in the UK as I wanted, and a few years ago I discovered a little piece of my home in the city.”

Trying to figure out what he meant by that you don’t even realize where you just took a turn to. Harry stops and you snap out of your thoughts, looking up and seeing a charming little street ahead you, looking totally out of place in the city’s fashion. The townhouses all the way down look like they’ve been placed here straight from England, the Tudor style complex is a refreshing change in the fast paced, busy streets of Manhattan.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight in front of you, taking in every tiny detail with your eager eyes as the feeling of being in a fairytale takes over your mind. If only it weren’t for the busy noises of the streets around the micro-neighborhood, you would completely believe that you’ve been magically teleported to England.

“It’s called the Pomander Walk. Always makes me feel like I’m home away from home whenever I miss my family and my hometown.”

Harry starts walking down the narrow pavement that runs between the houses, lined with quite some greenery, something you noticed right away. There are just so many plants and flowers down the street, it’s pretty clear the residents keep them in good care.

You catch up with Harry, eyes still taking in the pleasant contrast Pomander Walk has to offer for any visitors.

“I feel like we are invaders,” you tell him. It looks so secluded, makes you feel like you weren’t even supposed to be here.

“Don’t worry, it’s totally public. The people who live here are pretty nice too. Love it when someone comes around.”

“How did you find this place?”

“A friend told me about it and just came to see it for myself one day,” he tells you as the two of you slowly make your way down the street, slow enough so you could see everything. “There are 61 units and they were built in 1921 by Thomas J. Healy. He originally wanted to build a hotel here, but didn’t have the money to just yet, so he built these instead to make some cash for the hotel. He never got to do that though, died a few years later, so Pomander Walk stayed.” You listen to him, soaking in every word that leaves his lips, finding his oddly specific knowledge about this place quite exciting and… kinda hot. You could listen to him talk about historical facts for days without getting bored.

“The whole complex was renovated in 2009, they restored a bunch of architectural details that lost through the years.”

“Looks fantastic. I wonder what they look like on the inside,” you muse, your eyes wandering over the colorfully painted old school window blinds on most of the townhouses.

Walking down the pavement you realize there’s not a single soul around here, something you don’t get to experience too often in the city.

“It’s not too well-known, right? I don’t see any tourists and all that.”

Harry shakes his head, eyes ahead of him as he hides his hands in his pockets.

“No, ‘s quite hidden, not often listed in sights to be seen in the city. That’s why I like to come here so much.”

“Easy to stay unnoticed,” you add with a smile as your eyes meet his gaze and he nods, returning the smile.

You walk back and forth on the street at least five times, just talking and sharing and laughing, finally falling out of the misery of your everydays. He still amazes you with how good of a company he is, with his broad view of life and many experiences, you can truly connect with him on a level you haven’t been able to reach with anyone in a long time.

It’s way over midnight when you head back to his car, holding hands that happened at a point earlier, but you can’t tell who reached for who. It was kind of mutual, but now you didn’t want to let go of him… ever. You let your fingers play with his S ring on his pinky while he keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand whenever he has the chance. It’s a little disappointing when you have to let go of each other when you climb back into his car and head back home.

“I know this date wasn’t much, but I hope you liked it,” he smiles at you shyly before his eyes snap back at the road ahead of him.

“Shut up, this was literally the best date I’ve had,” you tell him making him chuckle. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

“Now it’s your secret place too. Maybe we’ll run into each other here one day.”

“I’ll definitely come back,” you admit smirking.

The city lights pass by you faster than you want them to, and you arrive to your complex way too early. Well, not according to the time, because it’s way past half past midnight now, but you just don’t want the night to end. However, you know Harry would not come up if you asked. He is way too big of a gentleman and he wouldn’t want to make you miss your appointment in the morning, but you are definitely collecting that kiss he promised a month or so ago.

“Walk me up, will you?” you ask him softly when he parks down in front of your building. He nods and follows you inside without a second thought.

You both know it’s about to happen, the air thickens between you two in the elevator and neither of you can hold back the small smiles on your lips. Harry walks next to you until you reach your front door and you turn to face him, his green eyes already examining your every move.

“I’m happy we finally got to do this,” you tell him, feeling a blush warming your cheeks from the way he looks at you now.

“I’m glad you called. Was starting to think we would never meet again,” he chuckles making you laugh as well. It really did feel like the universe was plotting against you, but you bet it didn’t expect your sudden move tonight.

There’s a longer pause where neither of you knows what to say or do next and your patience is running low, especially when you see him run his tongue over his pink lips. You just can’t wait any longer to taste them.

“Harry,” you breathe out, the frustration and desire at an all-time high now in your system. Never in your life did it take this long for you to get to a kiss with a guy you were clearly interested in and who returned the feeling as well.

“Yeah?”

“Swear to my lost Emmy Award if you don’t kiss me right now I’ll—“

You don’t get to finish, you don’t even know what you’d have said, but it’s all forgotten when Harry kisses you hard, hands cupping your jaw on both sides, angling your head to grant him the best access to your lips. You return the kiss without a second thought, hungrily tugging and pulling on his lips, your tongues meeting in the middle and fuck! He really knows how to make your toes curl with just a kiss. You grab a fistful of his t-shirt at his stomach, pulling him close and the cold touch of his rings on your skin makes you shudder. Everything about him makes your legs turn into jelly and you are willingly offering yourself to him without a doubt.

He pushes you against your front door, one of his hands wanders down to your waist and he gives it a gentle squeeze that makes you open your mouth more for him. You are a mess and so is he. You have no idea how long you make out, but when you eventually pull back, your chest is heaving and your lips feel swollen. Harry pecks your lips two more times before forcing himself to let go of you.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs in a low voice as he starts to back towards the elevator.

“Good night, Harry,” you say a little out of breath. He smirks at you one last time before walking into the elevator and the doors close, officially ending your first date.

 PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

[freakshowtwopointoh]

Anything You Can Do - Cross The Line Part 4

Anything you can be, I can be greater

Sooner or later I'm greater than you

< prev | next >

“Do it again, freshie. This time, at least try to keep your legs straight.” It’s hard to complain about free tutoring from one of the best dancers in the company, but it becomes much easier when your teacher is Jordan Li. Nothing was ever good enough, and every correction was peppered with insults. But she could never bring herself to refuse their help. Not when the results of the auditions were about to come out. She performed the dance again, refraining from rolling her eyes. “And try to keep the frustration off of your face. You look constipated.” 

“It’d be easier if you didn’t insist on being an ass at every opportunity.”

“Again, freshie.”

And so she does it again. And again. And again. Until every muscle aches and it feels like the steps are blurring together into a blob of french nonsense. She stops, breathing heavily. She takes a swig from her water bottle. 

“Jesus, this is harder than when I was actually working with a coach.”

“You must’ve had a really shitty coach.” Jordan says simply, watching her as she pants. “Had enough?”

“For now, unless you want me fainting in the studio.” She says, chuckling as she unties her pointe shoes. “God, you’re lucky, you don’t have to deal with these bitches. If you could dance pointe, you might actually be the best dancer in this whole school.” She says absently. But she hears Jordan suck a breath through their teeth, and it's clear she’s hit some kind of nerve. 

“I don’t need cups on my feet to be the best dancer in this fucking school.” They snap, and leave faster than she even thought possible. Whoops. She finishes gathering her things, trying to figure out when the banter became... not banter. 

Ella shakes her head, and makes her way home. Jordan Li is an enigma in a leather jacket, and a distraction from her goals.

The next morning, the callback list was emailed to everyone who auditioned. There were two pairings competing for Romeo and Juliet: Luke and Cate, and Jordan and ... her?

Oh shit. 

Going into rehearsal, she kept her head down. She knew that everyone would be looking at her, talking about her. Not that she isn’t used to that, but now, its because the freshman got called back for the lead. And she was dancing with Jordan Li, the junior who kept getting snubbed for the lead. She begins stretching, feeling her thighs complain from the practice last night. Today is going to be a long day.

Jordan’s POV

Jordan knew that they needed to change partners if they wanted this part. First, because she’s the freshman. The freshman who is constantly on their mind, and constantly fucking shit up. Second, because she’s naive. Talking back to them, taunting them with her pointe shoes like she’s never thought about another person’s feelings before in her life. She’s just like every other snobby girl here - convinced that they are God’s gift to dance and that everyone else exists only to lift them up on stage. At least they’d danced with some of the other girls before. But Ella was just so green, so ... raw. And not to mention, every time they saw her dance, especially alone in the rehearsal room, they couldn’t help but stare. Each movement born from the music and her body working with the music to create new art. 

And yes, they were jealous. Jealous because she was right - she was the first dancer at this godforsaken company that was actually on their level. That actually lived and breathed dance. She was a dancer that .... 

No. Jordan shakes their head violently, expelling the thought from their head. They need to focus on themself, and getting that role. And they could not do that with a distraction like Ella Jackson. 

After class, when Ella did her usual duck-and-run routine (probably to go waste Daddy’s money at some stupid boutique or whatever), they went up to Lynne to try to convince her to change partners.

“Look, I know you know what you’re doing, but you have to understand, I need a more experienced dancer to shine. I’m not here to babysit, I’m here to excel.” They said hurriedly. 

“I paired you with Miss Jackson for a reason. And it was not, as you put it, to babysit. Don’t doubt my judgment, Li. I’ve told you this many times.”

They sighed, and went to say something else, but she cut them off with a wave of her hand. 

“I have other things to do than explain myself to you. Now shoo, you have practicing to do. This is not an easy Pas De Deux, as I’m sure you know.”

“Yes, madame. Good night.” She nods at them, and walks off to her office. They run their hands through their hair, frustrated. Then, begrudgingly, they head to the rehearsal room. 

When Ella arrives, they’re already snapping their third piece of cinnamon gum. The music queued on the stereo, and they’re focused on the script. Of course they hear her come in, but they don’t acknowledge her.

She clears her throat. “Hello? Earth to Li.”

“Yes, I see you. Why aren’t you warming up?” They say coldly. She rolls her eyes, and they bite back their irritation. Couldn’t she see that they were doing her a favor? They could always be meaner. She begins to warm up, and Jordan keeps reading through the choreo, trying to locate parts of the dance that would allow them to keep their distance. There were none. This dance is pure romance, and a few of the lifts require very precise positioning of their hands.

This is going to be interesting.

Ella’s POV

She doesn’t know if it was her comments last time, the fact that they were paired together, or just a general dislike, but Jordan was especially irritable during their first callback rehearsal. They spent the whole time watching her like a hawk, not dancing at all, as if nothing had changed. Snapping that fucking gum, having her repeat the routine over and over and over again with very little information on how she should be dancing. By the end of the night, she was ready to strangle them. 

“Again, freshie.” She clenched her jaw so tight it hurt her teeth. “And get that look off of your face.” She narrowed her eyes, and considered storming out. But she took a deep breath, and settled into position. Jordan chuckled, and started the music. She did the routine one more time, keeping her mind focused on the music alone, and when she was done, she was actually almost proud. She sat down to take her shoes off, and Jordan cleared their throat. “You’re not done here.”

“Yes, actually, I am.” Ella says simply, massaging her feet. “There’s only so much verbal abuse I can take at a time.” Jordan laughed once, humorlessly. 

“Whatever you say, freshie. I’m not complaining.” She finished packing up her stuff.

“Oh, Jordan? Um, I’m sorry. For yesterday. That was a low blow.” She says it quickly, and leaves the room before they can give her a clever retort, or ask her to explain further.

< prev | next >

au by @poppy-metal

edits by @barbieprincesshilton

[wkil-109-fmx-radio]

[Zone Info]

Events:

Helium I - Fought between 1993 and 1998 when tensions between governments around the world finally turned to war. Nuclear warfare wiped out Northern-Middle Eurasia, most of South America, South-Eastern North America, and Southern Africa. The war ended when what was left of Europe and Asia surrendered.

The Rise of Better Living Industries - BL/ind started as a weapons manufacturing/power company that rose into a major monopoly and self-governing body that overthrew the US toward the end of the first Helium War. It immediately began an effort to bring “peace” to the nation by ridding the country of all individualism and “radical” beliefs, believing that different ideas would turn into conflict. This quickly turned into ridding the country of creativity and self-expression to make a perfect, crime-free society.

Helium II - Fought between 2006 and 2011 when Better Living Industries had taken control of what was left of North and South America and began attacking the rest of the world, trying to rid the planet of ideas that didn’t match theirs. The East Coast started rebelling against the West Coast, where BL/ind had established their capital in what was once Los Angeles but had been renamed Battery City. A wall of nuclear bombs was dropped around the Rocky Mountains and thanks to the radiation around the globe affecting the radio waves, no one knows for sure whether there is anyone else living on the planet outside of Battery City and its surrounding Zones.

The Rise of the Rebels - Since the very beginning of Better Living Industries’ reign, rebels had appeared. When Battery City was established as BL/ind’s capital city, settlements started popping up in the desert outside of the city. On the East Coast of North America, a massive rebellion effort was led against BL/ind during the second Helium War. As the years passed, more rebels started appearing in Battery City and moving to the desert, eventually renamed The Zones, especially after BL/ind seemed to have destroyed the East Coast rebels. Rebels in the Zones became known as Killjoys and rebels in the city became known as Juvie Halls. Rebels began attacking Better Living Industries factories and facilities, hoping to weaken the company but only resulting in angering BL/ind.

The Fires of 2012 - From April till August of 2012, Better Living Industries began lighting fires across the Zones in an attempt to destroy the Killjoys, as they had grown out of BL/ind’s control. The Fires got out of control and ended up spreading to some Better Living Industries camps and buildings that were still stationed in the Zones. As a result, BL/ind blamed the rebels for the Fires and denied any claims of the truth. The blame being placed on the rebels sparked the start of the Analog Wars.

The Analog Wars - Fought between 2012 and 2017 or, to some, from 2012 to the present. The Analog War wasn’t your usual war; it was mostly small battles in the Zones or sabotage of BL/ind or rebel facilities. Better Living Industries describes it as “an effort to suppress the rebels and their radical and dangerous ideals.” During the war, BL/ind established the Draculoid and S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W units.

The Pig Bombs of 2017 - On July 4, 2017, Better Living Industries dropped a series of bombs in Zone 8 to destroy the Killjoy farming communities that were settled there. BL/ind had previously withheld using nuclear weapons in the Zones because they didn’t want the radiation destroying Battery City so they settled for dropping them in Zone 8, although they ended up also destroying several important Better Living Industries facilities in the process. The bombs wiped Zones 7, 8, and 9 off the map, left some places in Zone 6 uninhabitable, and created a wall of radiation around the Zones and Battery City, trapping them and isolating them from the rest of the world. This marked the end of the Analog Wars, although some believe that since there was no official surrender or treaty, the war is still going on.

Places:

Battery City - The capital of whatever is left of the US that Better Living Industries can control. In Battery City, the citizens are required to take “Happy Pills.” In the city, BL/ind controls the weather, the way people dress, where kids go to school, and where adults work. Every citizen has a set routine, sent to them in the morning along with their medication. In the center of Battery City is the Better Living Industries headquarters which is the tallest building and largest complex in the city and home to the Director, the head of BL/ind.

The Underground - The subway systems under Battery City where many juvie halls live and plot against Better Living Industries. “The Underground” doesn’t always literally mean the subway systems and can be used as a relative term for anywhere juvie halls may live.

The Outskirts - The edge of Battery City, bordering Zone 1. This is where lower-class citizens live, along with some juvie halls, as this is the least regulated part of the city.

The Zones - The desert surrounding Battery City, where the Killjoys live. As the number of the Zone gets higher, so does the population, as the Killjoys like to be as far away from Battery City and BL/ind headquarters as possible.

Route Guano - The most used interstate in the Zones, running from south-eastern Battery City all the way out past Zone 6.

The Getaway Mile - The interstate south of Route Guano, which is shorter and goes more south but is often used for quick escapes from Battery City.

Death Valley - The area outside of Zone 6 that is dangerous and completely uninhabitable due to the extreme radiation.

Lighthouses - Well-known places across the Zones that provide sanctuary for Killjoys on the run

Train Station Avenue - A popular lighthouse along Route Guano in Zone 5 that is notorious for fights, food, and hitchhikers

The Nest - The largest lighthouse in the Zones, located next to DESTROYA in Zone 4

DESTROYA Site - The home of DESTROYA, a massive droid built by Better Living Industries to destroy the Killjoys during the Analog Wars but ended up malfunctioning and turning against them. The droid was shot down and has remained there ever since.

The Bunker - An underground bunker turned nightclub in Zone 6, popular for raves and huge amounts of attendees

Witch’s Hut - A small hut in Zone 6 where a supposed prophet of the Phoenix Witch lives

The Tracks - A race track in Zone 5 used for competitive drag races where parties are held and bets are placed for your favorite racers

Vocabulary:

Angel Cake - Killjoys who travel across the Zones selling food for cheaper prices

Audition - Initiation rituals that gangs in or outside of Battery City may have for you to be able to join. What you have to do varies from gang to gang

Babysitter - a term used to poke fun at a gang leader but also used as a genuine term for gang leaders who may be visibly older than the rest of the gang

Bacon - dead or dying Dracs and Crows

Batt out of hell - a term for new Killjoys but not used in a derogatory way

Batt Rat - a derogatory term used by Sand Pups to describe new Killjoys who just escaped the city and don’t know the Zone ways

Black Smith - someone who’s good at repairing or modifying technology or cars

Bifrost - places in the Zones that were so greatly affected by bombs, that the sand turned to glass

Blanket drive - driving at night with the headlights off, the windows down, and the music turned up loud

Carbons - The currency used in Battery City and the Zones. One carbon equals four dollars

Chilly - something or someone that’s suspicious

Clap - a physical fight

Cloud - A large group of Draculoids and S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W traveling through the Zones

Compass Rose - a Killjoy who knows the desert like the back of their hand

Costa Rica - things that went crazy or got out of control

Crash Queen - a daredevil or thrill seeker who is known for doing things that could easily get them killed and doesn’t care

Deadfaced - taking Battery Acid

Dead Pegasus - a fuel company in the Zones

Debut album - someone’s first love

Digital - An important moment shared amongst two or more rebels that they know they will never forget

Draculoid - droids and brainwashed Killjoys designed to kill rebels. Also called "bats" or "Dracs"

Drifter - someone who lives a nomadic lifestyle and strays from commitment in relationships

Drifting - A relationship that isn’t strictly anything but simply some sort of attraction between two individuals. A sort of go-with-the-flow, whatever happens, happens kind of relationship

Drive sidestreet - another way to tell someone to piss off. Also could use “get off the highway”

Dust Trail - an urban legend or a term used by non-religious Killjoys to describe religious Killjoys’ beliefs

ElectroKat - the most popular battery brand in Battery City and the Zones

Exterminators - High ranking Better Living Industries officials placed in charge of S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W units

Fact News - The one news program in Battery City, notorious for spreading lies to the citizens

Favorite Record - someone’s significant other

Firefight - a fight using ray guns

Fly half-mast - that state after having recently lost someone close to you

Gearhead - someone who’s obsessed with all things mechanical

Gemini - someone suspected of being a spy for Better Living Industries

Ghost Chase - Searching the Zones for someone who is possibly, or most likely, dead

Ghosted - killed. Also can use "dusted"

Graffiti Bible - A collection of religious writings across the Zones, mostly talking about how DESTROYA will come back to life and destroy Battery City and the Phoenix Witch

Gravehead - crazy Killjoys who have lost everyone and everything and throw themselves into dangerous situations

Gravity - anything that brings you down

Groupie - someone who travels with different gangs and trades favors for food, water, and protection

Halo Head - religious Killjoys who believe their beliefs put them above everyone else, especially non-religious Killjoys

Happy Pills - Pills issued by Better Living Industries that they say will lift your spirits and protect you from the radiation but make you more submissive and easier for BL to control. The rebels call them "Battery Acid"

Hit the red line - run away, usually from a bad/dangerous situation

Icy - when someone dies or goes missing in a suspicious way

Juvie Hall - rebels who haven’t left the city, usually because they can’t or because they’re working with the Killjoys to smuggle supplies out to the Zones and/or give them information from the city

Killjoy - rebels who live in the Zones

Lawyer - someone who ruins all the fun

Mailbox - small landmarks in the Zones where an old mailbox is painted and decorated and filled with letters, mostly to people that other Killjoys have lost. The more religious Killjoys believe the Phoenix Witch delivers the letters put in the mailboxes to the dead

Maple Plaza - Places in Zone 6 where radiation is still very thick and dangerous

Mega - interchangeable with "wicked"

Motorbabies - people who live and breathe all things car-related

Mousekat - a cartoon character from Battery City

Murder - a magazine in the Zones with Zone news

Pangea - A friendly gathering of two or more gangs

Paperboy - someone who travels across the Zones collecting news, gossip, and reporting deaths, usually for Dr. D or Murder magazine

Phoenix Witch - a supposed deity of the Zones, looking out for the rebels and carrying the souls of the dead into the afterlife

Pigs - another term for Dracs and Crows

Plus - A battery replenisher used by droids that are known for being highly addictive

Power Pup - a pre-moistened dog kibble brand that is often the only source of food in the Zones

Ray Gun - guns that shoot high-powered lasers instead of bullets. Rebels often customize them

Rebel - anyone who actively works against Better Living Industries

Ritalin Rat - drug addicts, usually used for those addicted to Happy Pills but can be used for Zoneweed addicts as well

Robin Hood Honey - party going Killjoys that look beautiful but don’t act like it

Rongee Kay - Killjoys who wander from party to party

Royal - something fancy or high end

Runners - juvie halls who smuggle supplies into the Zones

Sand Pup - someone born in the Zones or someone who has lived there most of their life

Sand Worm - a derogatory term for Killjoys used by Better Living Industries

S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W - BL loyalists specially trained to destroy anything they deem worthy of destroying. Also called "Crows"

Screwhead - someone who parties too much and thinks too little

Shiny Magazine - a magazine for mature readers in the Zones

Shiny - interchangeable with "awesome" or "cool"

Shower Curtain - A rare day when the sun is behind the clouds and the heat isn’t so unbearable

Smiley - someone acting suspiciously

Sour - something off

Squeaky - not having committed a crime against Better Living Industries but still wanting to rebel against them. Also used when someone seems to avoid fights or dangerous situations even though they’ve never done that before

Static - another word for sand or remote areas of the Zones

Trojan Horse - a painfully obvious lie

Tumbleweed - someone who wanders the Zones, living a nomadic lifestyle, having no home or gang

Vend-a-Hack - A device used by Killjoys to hack into Better Living Industries vending machines to steal various supplies

Vending Machine - Dispense a variety of items, including ray guns, batteries, ammo, stickers, stress toys, Plus, Power Pup, and water

WKIL 109 FMX - Doctor D’s pirate radio station that plays news and music

Zone Rat - a derogatory term for Killjoys used by Better Living Industries and some Battery City citizens

Zoneweed - a popular drug grown and passed around in the Zones

[black-is-beautiful18]

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, especially with everything that’s going on with the March On Broadway and the call for inclusivity for Black and POC performers.

IF ITS A CHARACTER THAT IS NOT WHITE, A WHITE PERSON SHOULD BE NOWHERE NEAR IT.

I don’t care if you were casted as Christine in your high school production of Phantom of the Opera. You simply don’t have the range. Whether in a fictional setting like Once On This Island or a more non-fictional setting such as Tina: The Musical, YOU 👏🏾 DO 👏🏾 NOT 👏🏾 HAVE 👏🏾 THE 👏🏾 RANGE!!! You have never, and never will, experience what it is like to be a Black person. Period. The story will be ruined. The same goes for productions with other leads of color. You should never be casted in Miss Saigon, even tho my Asian peeps need better representation than Miss Saigon cuz it’s full of stereotypes. Stick to your lane and don’t get mad when a Black performer or other performers of color audition for roles such as Elphaba, Cinderella, etc. They have every right to cuz they are more than their race. Not to mention a lot of our shows run far less longer than shows like POT, Wicked, Waitress, etc. Broadway is racist and if you have a problem with giving Black performers and performers of color better representation, whether it be their own show or one that already exists, then I’m gonna assume you’re racist too. For those of you that will argue this fact, here’s another one: Broadway derived from minstrel shows aka blackface which was used to make fun of Black people.

And these are some of the shows I mentioned:

The Color Purple

Miss Saigon

Porgy and Bess

Once On This Island

Tina: The Musical

[twotapbuz]

The leader and a body guard(Rin x reader)

(Sorry this took so long, school sucked all of my motivation away. You can find the rest of the series here: Eloni )

warning: violence, slight angst with a happy ending

Sometime after the rock revolution, Neon J decided to leave for a 3-week vacation

This meant that you and your coworkers would need to report to Rin

The first couple of days were difficult because Rin didn’t seem to care about the reports and would flirt with whoever was giving him the report

It wasn’t till week two that things began to spiral

1010 had been in the middle of a performance when a fight broke out in the crowd

You jumped out of where you were standing to help control the crowd

You assessed the damage after everything calmed down

The venue + stage was partially destroyed, Purl-Hew lost his glasses and an eye, Haym lost an arm, Zimelu and Eloni’s faces were cracked, and Rin was missing

Rin was missing

This was bad news as the factory still hadn’t been repaired yet which meant that he couldn’t be brought back until Neon J came back

And if Neon J found out that you lost a member of 1010, you and your co-workers would be fired

So your group split into two parts, one half would take Zimelu, Haym, Purl- Hew, and Eloni back to Barraca Mansion while the other half would search for Rin

You were placed into the latter

It had been nearly an hour since Rin was discovered missing and there still was no sign of him. You were definitely going to get fired. While the concert was in Cast Tech, you along with several others were sent to search Metro Division in case he simply went back to Baraca Mansion without telling anyone. You were about to head back when you heard the sound of crashing metal. 

“Hello, is anyone there?” You didn’t mean to say anything, but you were caught off guard. Against your better judgment, you began to walk towards that alley. You were desperate to find him after all.

“Stay back! RETREAT!” shouted a panicked autotuned voice. It was Rin.

“Rin? Is that you? Are you ok?” you rushed down the alley to find Rin hiding next to a dumpster.

“Don’t look at me!” Rin was trying to cover the right side of his face with his arm.

“What? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah! Do not worry about me, I’ll make it back fine,” Rin tried to stand up, still covering his face, but immediately fell back down because his leg was missing.

“Look… everyone’s worried about you and you won’t be able to make it back by yourself with that leg,” you gestured at Rin’s broken leg. Please let me help you, I know some shortcuts.” You offered your arm. Rin hesitantly lifted his hand for his face and grabbed your hand for support. The metal that covered the right side of her face was gone, revealing the damaged hardware underneath.

You involuntarily flinched, he may not have been human, but it was still pretty jarring to look at something that looked like a person who was missing part of their face. Rin also flinched, covering his missing face with both of his hands now.

“I’m so sorry about that”, you rubbed your neck, “I just… well I didn’t expect the injury to be that bad.”

“You aren’t going to scream, are you?

“What? No, I'm very sorry about that. Besides I’ve seen way worse” you joked, trying to release the tension. Rin hesitantly uncovered his face once again and grabbed your hand and pulled himself up. The two of you dodged the groups of people walking through Metro Divison.

As the two of you were walking through, you couldn’t help but wonder about Rin’s reaction when it suddenly hit you, 1010 got severely injured during the rock revolution. One of these injuries included all of them losing their faceplates. Their fans unsurprisingly freaked out which caused 1010 to explode due to some protocol Neon J must’ve implemented. Your heart sank when you realized Rin’s reaction wasn’t because he was worried about his image, but he was scared of you screaming and what would follow afterward.

——————

After that incident, Rin seemed to act differently towards you. He took you more seriously and listened to your reports

Even after Neón J came back, Rin still came to you for your reports

Probably just practice for when Neón j retires, you thought

As the weeks passed, the time spent on the casual chats you had increased to the point you’d forgot to give him the actual report several times

“And that’s how we got Quienne and Bebe.” Rin had just finished telling you the story of how they got their cats by Haym and Eloni smuggling them in through a box. This was one of many of the 'behind the scenes stories' that Rin had told you. While they didn’t act that much different when they weren’t on camera or in front of a crowd, it was nice to be trusted enough to hear about their personal lives.

“So what about you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any good stories? I don’t think it’s fair if I tell all of my secrets after all~.” Rin teased

“Well, I do have one. I was at a dance audition and waiting for my turn to perform and this dude that was performing was pretty much a circus act. He was doing all these frontflips and backflips and it was just crazy. Wish I had recorded it.”

“You used to be a performer? How come you stopped?” Rin curiously asked.

“Nah, I never made it past the first round of auditions. I didn't really mind since I only entered to support a friend.” You sipped on your coffee

“That’s a shame.” Rin paused for a moment. “You know I could always offer you lessons.”

 “that's really nice, but I’ll have to decline. No amount of practice can fix these two left feet.” You looked at the clock, realizing half an hour had passed. You quickly said your goodbye and left to avoid getting into trouble. Rin watched your back as he left, unsure why he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

——————

Rin was walking to his dressing room when he saw you walking alongside several other security staff. As rude as it sounded, Rin normally wouldn’t think twice about the people he worked with. Most staff would either quit from being harassed by crazy 1010 fans or get fired for secretly being 1010 fans who used the job to get access to 1010 content, or worse, 1010 themselves. Rin shuddered as memories of one of the many incidents came back. Rin could count on both of his hands the amount of current staff that has been working for over a year and you were one of them. Rin began to think about the early part of his career when he and his family would actively engage with the staff, talking about both of their personal lives and inviting them over to hang out in the mansion. He and his brothers stopped interacting with the staff after the high turnover started. What was the point of talking with them if they were going to quit and avoid 1010 like the plague or get fired and be avoided by 1010 like the plague. He was glad that he could talk to you. He also liked the sound of your voice and how your eyes sparkled brighter than the LEDs that lit up him and his brothers. Rin blushed at the last thoughts. The sound of your voice and the sparkle of your eyes? It’s not like he was in love with you or anything. He was technically your boss and your relationship was completely professional. Yeah, your interactions were one of his favorite parts of his day and your smile would always brighten his day, but even if he was in love with you(which he is not) there’s still the challenge of gaining the approval of his family and having to deal with his fan’s harassment. He couldn’t let you go through that. Though Rin couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to talk with you outside of work…even go on a couple dates… maybe he was in love afterall.

——————

You walked past Rin and smiled. Despite your attempts, you fell for Rin's charm just like his fans did and it took you no time to notice this. You knew you were never going to say anything, afterall, everyone knows the rule about not dating coworkers and Rin can choose practically anyone, why would he pick you?

——————

It was the first concert after the rock revolution

The fans were extra antsy due to the lack of content, so it was all hands on deck

You were positioned on the front of the stage

This concert was no different than the previous ones, 1010 were performing, a couple of their fans attempted to jump on the stage, and you could barely hear your own thoughts over the mix of music and cheering. Suddenly both of those stopped. You looked at the stage and so 1010 standing still in mid-performance. You were told about this situation during training: it was either a malfunction or a hacking. You prayed that it wasn’t the latter. 1010 suddenly began to move in sync, but it was different from their normal in sync movement. You saw two fans get tackled to the ground as a red saw blade passed them at what would’ve been chest height. Your radio buzzed loudly as you were given your new orders:

“Get everyone out of there.”

It was chaos as you rushed around to get everyone out of the venue. Those with superhuman abilities(pyrokinesis, levitation, etc) stayed behind to prevent 1010 from leaving the venue. Despite not having any abilities, you stayed behind too. You were running around in the back looking for anyone who still might be there when the rubble from an explosion behind you knocked you to the ground. You quickly got up and saw Rin towering over Neon J. Without thinking, you quickly grabbed a nearby pipe that came from the newly busted wall and smashed it over Rin’s head. This managed to stop his attack, but it also brought his attention to you. He suddenly ran towards you, grabbed you, and threw you against the wall. Your consciousness began to fade in and out as your head collided with the wall. You saw Rin approaching you, then darkness, Rin raising his arm to strike, darkness again, Rin being pulled away by Neón J, darkness again, the inside of an ambulance, and then nothing.

——————

You woke up in a hospital room. Your eyes scanned the room: on your right was a monitor accompanied by an IV drip. On your left was a small table with flowers, a get-well balloon, a couple cards, and a Rin with a worried face sitting on one of the chairs of the room. Rin noticed you were awake and quickly rushed before stopping unsure of what to do.

“Y/N” Rin said, unsure of what to do or say

“Rin”

“Y/N… I’m so sorry about what happened- I didn’t want to-I couldn’t stop- if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you-” Rin began to stutter out of guilt. He kept making sentences but giving up on them and starting new ones.

“Rin, please” Rin paused and looked at you. “It’s not your fault, I know you would never do this” the two of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before you continued, “You know... if the offers still up… I’d be happy to accept those dance lessons when I get discharged." Rin began to smile

“Yeah, the offers still up”

——————

Neon J walked through the hospital’s halls. For the past two weeks, he had been personally escorting Rin to your hospital room. He knew Rin felt responsible for your injuries so he didn’t object to this despite the possible security risks(he couldn't keep his boys locked up). He had heard from Rin that you had woken up and he was glad that you were ok, but he had to cut your visitor time short due to an interview that all 1010 members must be present for. He walked into your room to find the two of you sleeping with Rin’s head on your lap. 

“It’ll be fine if Rin misses one interview.” Neon J thought as he closed the door. He also began to wonder how long it will be before Rin introduces you officially to the family.