#Idea courtesy of Jazz

[beetlewastaken]

Leon kennedy Mpreg

Thats Luis In the background btw

Also the stretch marks look like shit I know it's a work in progress okay

[demonic0angel]

Health Insurance (click for clarity)

I have a headcanon that Maddie and Jack did not have health insurance or insurance at all tbh, so Jazz really enjoyed the benefits of marriage.

So basically, in this idea, Dick and Jazz marry (bc Dick needed custody of Damian but he’s a single 20-something year old man, while Jazz was getting hounded by the Ghost Zone/her parents idk) but never fall in love. The two of them make a deal to get married and then parent Damian together, but then Dick finds out that they’re falling in love with each other’s siblings so he’s like “let’s divorce”.

It goes well and they both split things evenly or equally and it’s a very peaceful, amicable divorce.

Until they get to the custody of Damian. And then all hell breaks loose.

One of the dirtiest, most underhanded, and vicious custody wars ensue. In the end, they get split custody of Damian between Gotham and Blüdhaven. (He’s weirdly happy with it bc they fought so hard for him and they didn’t involve him at all except for courtesy questions).

Part two

Image description below:

Panel 1 has Dick’s solemn face as he’s looking away.

Dick: Jazz… we need to talk. I know that you’re in love with Jason…

Panel 2 has Dick’s side profile while we see Jazz stare at him in shock, holding a spilling teacup as she’s dripping tea.

Dick: *still looking sad* And I’m also in love with your brother Dan, so I think we should divorce.

Panel 3 is the both of them across from each other, in a very simplistic style. Jazz still looks vaguely shocked and Dick still looks sad.

Dick: I know that we both care for each other, but we’re in love with different people.

Panel 4 has Jazz finally snapping back to reality, as Dick continues talking.

Dick: It’ll be an amicable divorce, so I think that—

Panel 5 has Jazz standing up with a BAM! and knocking her teacup when she slams her hands on the table. Dick looks startled.

Dick: !

Panel 6 has a close up of Jazz’s panicked expression as she’s shouting.

Jazz: BUT WHAT ABOUT THE HEALTH INSURANCE?!

Edit: I changed the pictures to add the right font and a ring on Jazz’s finger.

[soarrenbluejay]

Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.

The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.

Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!

Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!

See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!

So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!

She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.

(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)

This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.

Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.

Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.

So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.

The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!

The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny had no idea what a meta was, but appearently he had something called a meta-gene. One would think a mutation that can cause people to manifest superpowers from lab accidents would explain his disastrous career as a superhero, but they would be wrong. Dannys meta gene was never activated and the whole ghost fiasco was just eldrich shenanigans at its finest.

No, Danny's meta gene activated just two weeks ago on his fifteenth birthday where he was celebrating at Sam's place with Tucker. They had gotten into one of thier usual fights about food and Danny just did not want to deal with it and went into another room.

Sams cat didn't love him per say but it usually didn't hate him either. Today was not his lucky day. The kitty scratched him and wouldn't you know? His meta gene wasn't activated by an interdimentional portal opening up on top of him, it wasn't activated by the numerous energy blasts he had been hit with nor the various electric shocks.

No, it was activated by a freaking cat scratch.

He stared at himself in the mirror, glowing green eyes with slit pupils stared back at him. His kitty ears were folded back to show his shock and displeasure over the situation but it was still rather obvious what they were. The tail wagging slowly behind him was the same snowy white as his hair and ears.

He looked like Phantom. He looked like Phanton as Fenton. Ancients. There was no way he was going to be able to hide this. Transforming brought about no change other than the hazmat suit. He was so screwed. He couldn't go home like this.

Breathing heavily and on the verge of a panic attack he called Jazz once, twice, three times, but she didn't pick up. Danny knew he couldn't stay in the human world, it was too dangerous.

But if he wasn't there to protect the ghosts than it would be too dangerous for them to stay too. He knew for a fact Dani was staying with Dora while she taught her how to read and write so he had pretty much no qualms about destroying the portals and outing Vlad through a pre-made video of him transforming and boasting about his crimes to Phantom, courtesy of Tucker and him filming it all.

He felt bad about ditching his friends one last time, and at his own birthday party no less! But he knew if he tried to say goodbye they would guilt him into staying and it would end horribly so he left a note explaining what happened and bounced.

Destroying the portals hadn't taken much time or effort nor did destroying over 20 years of research between the three. It was exploring the Ghost Zone that was giving him problems. He was always warned by Wulf not to open portals in the Ghost Zone unless you were very experienced cause if you screw up theres no telling when or where you will land. He thought back to Wulfs lessons and tried to conjure the image of lush wildlife and abundant food.

The place he ended up portaling to had neither of those things. In fact if felt like the opposite when he landed in a grimey alleyway in the dark of night.

A spotlight was pointed toward the sky, painting the clouds above in a yellow light holding a stylized image of a bat in the center. Danny wondered what that was about for only a minute before he heard the tell tale whoosh sound of someone landing in the alley behind him.

Dannys new instincts reacted before the logical part of his brain took hold causing him to whirl around with his ears flattened to his head and he hissed so furiously that the man with the red helmet (mask?) back up several paces while cursing furiously. The man also mentioned something about a "Pit" but Danny wasn't paying attention, he was scared out of his mind and bolted down the alleyways and out of sight before phasing into a dilapidated building and hiding under some rubble.

Later, Red Hood told Nightwing about the Lazarus Pit catboy demon and described it as nightmarish as possible before adding that it was kinda twinkish. He also added "for the love of God dickwing, don't let demon brat adopt that thing"

In Damians defence, he found Danny asleep next to Alfred the cat in Batcows barn and just decided he was thier new cat. In other news hes far more concerned with hiding Danny From Catwoman than from father.

[eyesthecolorofarson]

Two weirdos

So i just had the weirdest/stupidest Dead Serious idea

So Dannys been Ghost King for a few millennia now and while Sam, Tucker and Jazz have been ghosts for a long time they still remember human customs and courtesies.

But since Danny is the Ghost King and directly connected to the Infinite Realms and all its weirdness, hes basically forgotten what it was like to be human. And that, along side his obsession, has lead to many a shenanigans.

Case and point, the situation today

—————

He'd been exploring when he found Him

It was supposed to be simple, relaxing. Fly around and take in the sights of a new dimension, watch the mortals go about their daily grind, soak in the ectoplasm that seemed to stick to this city like a plague.

But then he caught sight of Him

It was as if time and reality itself folded and paused, everything suddenly shifting until He was Danny could see

A boy so liminal, so dangerous and deadly yet still so human, running across the rooftops like a dark angel. With the rage he could feel, with the power so potent Danny could practically taste it, this boy–this human–was using it to protect

Danny felt his core sing, he felt his world shift until the boy was all he could see, he felt-he felt—

Love

that was it

Danny loved this boy, and he was positive the boy would love him

______

so instead of working on the fics I should be working on I’m doing this. So meet my Two Weirdos Damian/Danny Au! Where their both more than a little yandere for each other and everyone is concerned but them

fun facts about this AU:

Danny’s not a delusional yandere. Despite the way he acts he knows Damian won’t love him right away, and he doesn’t expect him to. Relationships are built on mutual understanding and trust, and Danny plans to work very hard to earn that

What he doesn’t expect is for Damian to be just as obsessed with Danny as he is him

it just makes him fall In love even more tbh

Speaking of Damian, meeting Danny is just as world-changing for him as it was for Danny

To him, it feels like a piece of him he didn’t even know was missing came back

His world becomes more colorful, breathing somehow becomes easier, everything is suddenly so full of life and he never wants it to go away

when he finds out about how obsessed Danny is with him he stops holding back all his weird urges

and they get weird

When the (rightfully concerned) batfam tell Damian about how Danny’s been watching him sleep, taking his hair, taking pictures of him asleep and even laying down with him—

—he admits without any shame whatsoever that if he had access to Danny’s bedroom he’d do the same thing

its all hopelessly romantic to him

and when they do interact? After years of stalking, watching, learning?

It’s like a dream come true

Finally, Damian thinks, a laugh to die for, a smile that’ll shake worlds, a desperate need for physical affection

And Danny? He’s on cloud nine, baby!

His love loves him too! His love wants to spend every moment with him! His love wants to watch him sleep!

They make a schedule-two nights Damian watches him, two nights Danny watches him, and three they sleep together

Everything is perfect—people who try to hit on Danny disappear, kids who make fun of Damian at school wake to find their family dead and no one willing to take them in

Damian tells Danny he wants to put a tracker on him

Danny says he put one on Damian the day they met

The batfam are so so concerned, Sam and Tucker think it’s hilarious, and Jazz is ok with it as long as no one’s feelings get hurt

[little-pondhead]

Wanted to hop in on the supervillain Danny au questions! Do we think Valerie would have any interest to get in on this? Between being a pawn for Vlad as Red Huntress and her "friends" ditching her as soon as she stopped being rich, I like the idea that evil billionare mastermind is her general vibe. Heck, maybe she and Tucker flip roles and she becomes the guy in the chair, not being a front line powerhouse and actually coming up with elaborate plans.

And on that note, do we think that if Vlad somehow found his way into this mess, he'd see the whole thing as a fun little game of "opposite world" and try his hand at being a hero? Because I for one think that would be hilarious, I actually don't have ideas for that because I can't imagine a heroic Vlad.

Amyway, that's all I got for now. Love your work!

You're one of the vertebrae creatures who keep hoarding all the brain wrinkles, aren't you??

---

[Okay, so I lost your ask, wrote this shit, then found it again so it's not exact but I'm trying here.]

Let's start with Valerie, or keeping up with the trend, Gray in the DC universe.

Valerie is so tired. It's a different kind of tiredness that has a grip on the others. Danny is tired of being a hero, Sam is tired of her parent's expectations, and Tucker is tired of being unable to protect his friends. Jazz is tired of being the bigger person, and Dani is tired of not having someone to rely on. The DC universe is their escape, and honestly, it's doing wonders for their mental health. Valerie notices. She has a shaky truce with Phantom and his crew, but she can't just let him get a leg up on her, can she? So Valerie follows them, through town, through the portal, through the new world they popped up in.

There, she stops. Phantom is now Fenton, and doesn't that make sense? Many things click into place and Valerie starts to understand as she watches the others from the shadows. She's surprised they haven't noticed her, but a little green sticky note on her visor says she had a little hand in her reconnaissance. So when she's done, she returns to her dimension. Back to Amity Park and back to her bed. Valerie lays there for a while, staring at the ceiling and fingering the sticky note, committing every detail to memory.

And you know what? Valerie gets pissed. How come Danny and his friends lovers? and family get to just visit other dimensions whenever they want a break and have no repercussions whatsoever? Just because hero work is hard?? She's a hero too, dammit!

Obviously, someone out there apparently agreed with her because, in a quick, dizzying moment, Valerie finds herself suddenly in the Ghost Zone, plopped down on a ratty blue couch with a very old ghost sitting across from her. He introduces himself as Clockwork, the ghost of time, the regent of the king, and Danny's guardian. Mentor? She wasn't sure; ghost speech always gave her a headache. Either way, Valerie found herself exceptionally calm and somehow struck a deal with the Ancient. To her chagrin, Clockwork informed her that Valerie was well and truly Liminal now, despite her best efforts. (What did she expect? Her suit was practically drenched in ectoplasm.) As part of the deal, Clockwork extended the same courtesy to her that he had to the others. Anytime she wanted, Valerie could have free reign and access to the DC universe and could do anything she liked with no bad consequences. And because of her liminality, he was able to grant her just enough power for her to create her own portals directly to the other realm.

[What did Clockwork get out of this deal? Well, that's up to someone else who's not me.]

So Valerie goes to this new universe. She switches her name to Gray, as if to mock Fenton, who had no idea she was there. She does not try to become a supervillain. And what's this? Outfit analysis time!!

In the show, I've always liked Valerie as a character, and whether it was intentional or not, her design seems to fit her attitude and actions. They were in high school in the early 2000s before her dad lost her job; Valerie was very popular, from what I remember. Her family had money. Other kids expected her to keep up with social norms, so her outfit looked more stylish than practical. She wears yellow, which is most commonly seen as a happy color. Her hair is slicked back so people can see her whole face. She has nothing to hide. She's confident and youthful, ready to lead, and overall enjoying her lot in life. Then ghosts start appearing, and we all know her backstory as Red Huntress. Her suit is tight to her skin, bright red, and overall she's armed to the teeth. Everything about that screams DANGER! Valerie is a threat now.

Her civilian outfit also never changes, which is understandable because this is a cartoon from 2004. But it's secretly genius because yellow is often considered a cautious color. It turns from being a happy color to a warning. Yellow is also associated with anxiety, betrayal, and even egotism, which is something both she and Danny experience during their interactions. She's uptight and constantly on edge. She feels like she has to provide for her family and is quick to anger.

Now for the opposite of that? Valerie is tired of being angry all the time. Rather than go apeshit on a bunch of poor heroes and villains-been there, done that-she treats this whole thing like an actual vacation. Gray wears a soft long sleeve, sweats, and fuzzy slippers. Her hair is relaxed and in a bun, with her bangs hiding half of her face. It takes some pressure off of constantly keeping her expressions in check. People also can't see how she's silently judging them. She lets the stress melt from her shoulders and lets herself curse like a sailor whenever she feels like it. Her clothes are dimmer colors, which don’t stand out or demand attention. She lets herself be not perfect.

Although, just because this is a vacation for her doesn't mean Gray can't just lounge around doing nothing. She has no money! So Gray, after shuffling through a couple decades of this world's history and discovering that Craigslist is universal, applies for the first work ad she sees. In short, Gray joins the Goonion. She ends up making a deal with the guy who hired her. And her new boss. And her new neighbor. And-

Gray very quickly becomes the John Constantine of the criminal underworld. She brushes up on her people skills and learns to talk rings around other people, getting people to owe her favors as much as she dishes them out. Balance is the key here, as she’s learned from Danny. Gray is never tied down by too many IOUs at a time, and her tight grip on her companions and team quickly earn her a questionable but reliable reputation. She presents a morally-gray character, if you will.

Gray’s quick climb to power-that was definitely sped along by Clockwork-earns her a powerful position in the Goonion. If she plays her cards right, Gray doesn’t have to do any work at all. She just leans back and enjoys being paid for wearing pajamas all day and occasionally signing some paperwork. She siphons away bits of her own paycheck to a dimensional bank account she threatened asked Technus to set up, and Gray is finally able to slip more than a few tens into her father’s wallet when it’s time for him to pay his rent. It’s a good life.

Now, Vlad? Oh, he's fucked. This can work for whatever redemption au you want. He can be exactly like he is in the show or working towards bettering himself as a person. I imagine him being halfway to a redemption plot, and in an effort to gain the Fenton's trust, he starts hanging around with the family more. Jack loves this. The others do not, but what can they do? Everyone is just trying to be civil to each other in an effort to make Jack happy. Since old habits die hard, Vlad very quickly notices Danny's improved state of mind and is attuned to the Zone enough to feel when Clockwork stops time on their end. He starts to purposefully rile up Danny and realizes that the time stops happen right after Danny leaves the room in a fit of anger. Then the boy comes back all smiles and sometimes doesn't even remember what Vlad had said to him in the first place.

So he puts his ear to the ground. Whispers are floating around about a new portal that's been opened near Phantom's Keep. A natural one. A permanent one. No one can investigate due to its location, but the young king and members of his fraid have been seen frequenting it more often than late. Not suspicious in the slightest, Danny would have protested. Vlad goes poking around. Entering the Keep uninvited felt like millions of bugs tugging at his skin, but turning human helped ease the sensation. It was laughably easy to slip between the cold stone walls of the Keep, avoiding Fright Knight's walking path and sticking to the shadows. The portal was in the courtyard, under the watchful gaze of two stone gargoyles leftover from Pariah's reign. Right before Vlad can investigate further stick his head in and see what happens the world warps, and suddenly the older halfa is sitting on his ass in front of a very old ghost.

Looks like Vlad fucked around and found out.

Basically, Clockwork yoinked Vlad to his side of existence right before he entered the portal. Even if all he wanted to do was relate to Danny in an effort to mend their relationship, The Master of Time wasn't okay with Vlad going off into the DC universe all willy-nilly. Oh no. Letting Vlad loose in this world would lead to bad things regardless of his intentions. Even if Vlad promised to play by all the rules and pretended to be human, he was bound to slip up and cause trouble.

So there were two courses of action Clockwork could take here. One, he could pull in a few favors and wipe Vlad's memory, sending him back to his own universe until he inevitably went sniffing around again, and this whole song and dance continued. Or second, he could equip Vlad with similar ghost artifacts Manson and Foley possessed and temporarily seal away Vlad's powers while he was gallivanting around the DC universe. He'd be on Clockwork's payroll, so to speak, and could only act on the older ghost's instructions. Clockwork presented these two choices to Vlad. The older halfa chose the second option after weighing the pros and cons. He didn't want to be controlled by Clockwork, but he also didn't want to lose his memories (over and over again, from how he worded it.)

This is how Vlad's hero persona is born. I'm unsure if he should stick with his last name, Masters, or take on something different to distance himself from Fenton and his family. Let's stick with Masters for now.

Clockwork has this drowning little rat man on a rehab program and uses some fancy ghost jewelry to inhibit his halfa abilities. He doesn't make Masters do much, just drops him in here and there when the DC timestream needs a little nudge. It's not like Clockwork will have Danny deal with it; the kid already helps out with every other timestream when asked. Masters can help out here. And since his halfa abilities are blocked, he gets to do everything as a human, which brings its own set of challenges. The idea is that by throwing Masters face-first into a new world filled with people who could end his existence and be forced to win every fight or else, he'll come to appreciate what Danny goes through on a daily basis.

The JL Dark becomes very familiar with the mysterious Masters, who doesn't seem to have any powers but still fights like he does. The man can be extraordinarily clumsy and short-tempered but still graceful and light on his feet when it matters the most. More than once has someone caught Masters muttering under his breath, cursing out gravity and a 'purple-cloak wearing bitch.' Masters always shows up out of the blue at the most random times. He is literally just there, and sometimes even Masters himself looks shocked about his sudden scene change. But he's always suited up and ready to go, so not many heroes question it. They usually need the help anyway.

In the DC universe, Masters is wearing four magic bands, each engraved with the words Dominion of Time on them. Several bands made from tungsten were buried deep with Clockwork's Tower in an old wooden box made from aspen and diamonds. Each band was a blank slate, glowing slightly from magic long past. Clockwork had simply selected the four he needed, engraved the spells needed in ghost speech, and handed them over. Vlad grumbled and tried to find a loophole in the artifacts, but ultimately accepted his fate and wore them whenever Masters was needed.

Vlad's new outfit for this outfit is similar to Valerie's; it's loose and uncomplicated. (Actually, there are a lot of parallels between these two.) In the show, Vlad always wears a tailored suit and dress shoes. He's well-groomed and his hair is slicked back. He always tries to show off his wealth and power by having full control over his appearance. In layman's terms, he's the walking cliché trope of a rich billionaire villain in every superhero media to ever exist. After all, in a kid's show with a teenage protagonist, what's more intimidating than an adult nemesis who has their life together?

As Masters, Vlad is forced to throw all that out the window.

The hero outfit he wears was literally picked up off the street. If glowing metal bands were not adorning his arms, some would assume that Masters was a homeless man. The top was dug out from a dumpster behind a costume store, and the sandals were given to him by a woman who couldn't wear them anymore. His arm sleeves were sewn together from some blackout curtains he found at an old housing demolition site, and the pants were just some sweatpants that were a tad too short. The mask was bought from the corner store, his belt salvaged from a junkyard, and his scarf was actually a gift from Jack-not that he'd wear it around the oaf. The only 'expensive' things Masters wore were the four magic bands, a handful of large glass beads hanging from his belt, and the sharp metal claws he wore on top of each finger. The claws were bought on a whim years ago when Vlad was building his fortune, and boy, was he glad for them now. They were the only real weapons Clockwork allowed him to carry for some reason.

In other words, Masters is exposed. With his loose hair and flowing clothes, Masters is forced to trust the others around him to have his back. He's humbled every time someone covers an obvious blind spot of his that he's not used to compensating for. He gets dirty and messy, fighting to survive against enemies he knows nothing about. His outfit symbolizes his efforts to change. Masters is re-learning what it's like to be truly vulnerable in a world you don't understand with no help whatsoever. Clockwork has no issue pitting him against demons and ghouls even John Constantine would hesitate at, and his narrow victories quickly earn him an invitation to the Watchtower.

The Justice League is puzzled by this walking lump of wet spaghetti. He disappears so easily into the background and doesn't stand out at all. Every once in a while his eyes scrunch up like he's confused about something, but he won't admit that he's lost the conversation. Masters will offhandedly say weird things and turn as if expecting someone to be there, then suddenly stop himself with a soft flinch. He refuses any form of payment. He can stare down Batman. His appearances are random and the man carries no form of contact. Masters often has an aura of resignation and regret around him, as if he didn't want to be there in the first place. He's awkward around kids but fiercely protective of a few teen heroes. (Mostly Conner.)

It finally starts to come together in the JL's mind when Masters becomes more widely known in the world of supers. One of the higher-ups in the Goonion hates him. Dani held a gun to his head. Manson screeched bloody murder when she saw him. Nightingale declared herself his official nemesis. The final piece was when, after a long and exhausting fight, Masters temporarily removed his mask to wipe away some blood around his mouth.

The Flash, who was sitting next to him, nearly let out a squeak.

Masters' blood was bright green.

Masters' teeth were shaped like a shark's.

Masters was another fucking Fenton, wasn't he?

[kwanisms]

Under Your Skin 03 — s.changbin

playlist

➮ tattoo artist!Changbin × fem!Reader summary: Everything seemed to fall into place for Y/N. She had a loving boyfriend, her dream job, and the bestest friend in the universe. She never thought her life was missing something until she was introduced to Changbin, the town's newest tattoo artist who happens to be harboring an unimaginable secret. genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, “forbidden” love, strangers to lovers; supernatural themes; non idol au, tattoo artist au, werewolf au, supernatural au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, established boyfriend!Joshua (please note this story does NOT include cheating)

series taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @x-woozi @candidupped @snow-pegasus @brownieracha @avyskai @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream @biribarabiribbaem @mchslut @hgema @oiminho @ughyeka @honey-lemon-goose @fixation-dump @sleeplessdawn @changbinnss @racha-enthusiast @sanjoongie @chillllllli @nattisbored @chrollosforehead @tai-loves-skz @labyrinthonmymind @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @mamieishere @mariesakamari @buttergumz @emithecharmer @binnies-donuts @v3n0mszn @kazzilla @jihanlovic @thezombiepandaleague @moonl1ghtmuse @woozarts @ateezkeepmysoul

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a/n: here we have chapter 3. I lost some steam for this after being so strong in the beginning but I finally finished it. There isn't much to say other than here it is. I finished it lmao it's a slow burn so it'll take some time before we see any Changbin action. I hope you like it and as always, I love feedback and pls consider reblogging if you liked this chapter!

A huge thank you to Sky ☁️ for this entire story idea. Without her late night thoughts, this series wouldn’t even exist. Also a massive thank you to @icybluehosh for her professional input on all things tattoos. Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

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𝗰𝗵 𝟬𝟯 - 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁

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Soft subtle jazz tones floated through the air as you worked, a soft but catchy beat causing you to bob your head as you tapped your foot.

You’d been working on this new set, a beautiful antique set from Japan. You had finished making the gold paste earlier and were currently applying it to the broken seams of the carafe while Mr. Serizawa worked in the woodshop.

An old couch had been brought into the shop in dire need of restoration. The foam was lumpy and lopsided, the upholstery was ripped and beyond salvaging, and one of the back legs was broken, having splintered off. 

He’d spent most of the previous day stripping the loveseat down to its basics, tossing the old upholstery and foam cushion. You didn’t have much time to watch, having finished painting the details on the English tea set which was drying in the safety of your cabinet.

The whirr of the sander had been drowned out long ago as you listened to the music Mr. Serizawa put on instead. He did it as a courtesy to your ears but you’d learned a long time ago how to tune out the noise while you worked. 

You held two pieces of ceramic together, joining them at their seam with glue and once it set, you placed them aside to finish drying before you could add the resin. It was tedious work but you loved it all the same. Your eyes wandered to the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost six pm.

You wiped your fingers on your apron as you stood up, grabbing a cloth from your table as you walked over to the door of the woodshop, covering your nose and mouth with the cloth.

You peered in where you saw your boss looking over his work, sanding the wooden surfaces of the couch smooth before applying the stain. You took his break in sanding to call out to him and get his attention.

“It’s almost six pm, Mr. Serizawa!”

He looked up and you had to fight the urge to laugh at his appearance. He had forgotten his goggles and was instead wearing a pair of black sports sunglasses with blue shift lenses and his respirator. He always wore a pair of coveralls when he worked on furniture to protect his clothes from dust, stain, paint, and resin. He looked quite silly.

“Is it really?” he asked, his voice muffled by the mask. You nodded as he lifted the sunglasses.

“You don’t need to stay to close up,” he said as he turned off and set aside the electric sander, stepping over the cord as he moved towards you. “I’ll close up tonight. Shinju is making pork belly for dinner so it will be ready by the time I close up shop,” he added. You smiled at the mention of his wife.

Ever since his call the other day, he reported her progress each day. It filled you with relief that Shinju was doing so well. “Are you sure?” you asked softly as he started to walk back over to the work desk. He nodded, waving you away. “Just make sure to put that finished set out for sale!” he said, pointing as you started to walk away.

You moved to your station and cleaned up your supplies and left the pieces to dry as you opened the cabinet housing the finished English set. Carefully, you gathered all the pieces before closing the door and heading to the front where you set the items on the counter and started to write up a description and figure out a price.

As you were placing the set on one of the shelves, the front door opened. You looked up, expecting a customer but were surprised to see your best friend entering, the soft jingle of the bell echoing around the shop.

“Be right with you!” you heard Mr. Serizawa’s voice from the back. “I’ve got it!” you called back and turned to Lilah who smiled at you as she shut the door. “Is it a bad time?” she asked which you shook your head as you turned back to the shelf and set up the description and price tag.

Lilah walked over to look at the newest addition, leaning in to see all the tiny details.

“You really have a knack for that,” she noted as you moved behind the counter to add the English set to the inventory roster, adding the price and date. “Thanks,” you replied as you set the book back under the counter and looked up at your best friend. She was dressed rather casually you noticed but there was something about her make up that had you second guessing your assumption.

“What’s up?” you asked as she looked at you expectantly. “Are you off?” she asked. You nodded, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the counter. “Good,” Lilah said leaning in as well. “Cause we’ve been invited to a house party.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, stepping back and moving away from the counter. “Lilah,” you started.

She followed as you walked out from behind the counter and towards the curtain that blocked off the back of the shop. Lilah followed you, pushing the green curtain aside as she stepped into the backroom. “Come on, Y/N!” she whined. You turned to her and noticed Mr. Serizawa peering out from the woodshop door. “Is that Lilah?” he called.

Lilah turned to look over her shoulder. “Hi Mr. Serizawa,” she said politely, greeting him. His face lit up. “Oh good to see you!” he said with a smile. “Make her leave,” he added, nodding towards you as you sat back down behind your desk.

Lilah turned back to you, giving you a smirk as she waited for you to move.

You sighed heavily and stood back up, reaching behind to untie your apron.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay, Mr. Serizawa?” you called as you folded and set your apron aside. His head appeared in the doorway into the woodshop again.

“It’s Friday night,” he started. “Go have fun with your friends!”

Lilah smiled brightly, thanking him as she ushered you out of the backroom, grabbing your things hastily in an effort to get out of the building faster. You whined as she shoved you out the front door, allowing it to shut. You glanced back in time to see your boss locking the door and waving you off.

You allowed Lilah to steer you town the sidewalk, no doubt in the direction of the party. “Wait,” you stopped in your tracks, forcing her to halt as well. You glanced down at your outfit and looked back up at her. “You don’t want me to change?” you asked and she smiled, shaking her head.

“You look perfectly fine,” she replied, linking arms with you and starting off down the sidewalk again.

Compared to her outfit, you looked ready to run errands in your peach floral skirt and cream colored blouse. There’s no way Lilah would have deemed this party appropriate under normal circumstances. You stopped her again. “Why do you keep stopping?”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “What’s your deal?” you asked suddenly. “You’d never let me go to a party dressed in my grandma clothes,” you added, using her words, not yours.

Lilah rolled her eyes. “Will you stop,” she asked, taking your arm again. “You look cute right now,” she added as she steered you down the pavement to the end of the block. “It’s just a house party.” 

“And besides,” she continued. “You have a boyfriend, so it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone!” You rolled your eyes as you made a turn at the end of the sidewalk and started down the street that led into a residential area. “And another reason is because we’d have to go to your place and then come all the way back here which would take longer,” she said as you neared the end of the block where you could hear heavy bass coming from one of the houses.

The true reason why she didn’t want you to go home and change. She wanted to save time.

“Are we going to see Chris?” you asked as you neared the house.

It was a medium craftsman style home with a nice sized front porch with the signature columns framing it. The front door was a rich red wood with glass windows at the top. The house was two stories with a small fenced in front yard and a one car driveway leading up to a small garage.

The front door opened as the two of you headed up the steps, a few partygoers exiting just before Lilah shoved you over the threshold.

Inside was like a scene out of a movie. The living room was just off the foyer with a staircase just in front of the door that led up to the second floor. To the left of the foyer was the dining room where the dining table had been moved aside and a beer pong table had been set up.

A crowd was gathered in the dining room watching the current match. Next to the staircase was a hallway that led all the way to the back of the house but you couldn’t see much as it was pretty crowded. Lilah dragged you into the crowd, bypassing the living room where a DJ had set up a table and all his equipment.

Lilah led you into an opening in the wall and into the kitchen.

You wove through the crowd until you reached the kitchen island where the drink station had been set up. Lilah was quick to pour you a drink despite your protesting. “It’s not that strong,” she told you over the bass. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip, amused that she was right.

Lilah finished making her own drink before taking your hand and taking a large sip. She dragged you through the house, no doubt looking for Chris. You kept your wits about you, looking around as you dodged people and danced around them until you were back in the foyer, facing the dining room.

A few people had moved and you could now see on one end of the table was Chris and Minho. ‘They must be one of the teams,’ you told yourself as you sipped your drink. Lilah only waited a moment before dragging you into the mix and worming her way through the crowd until she reached Chris’ side as Minho aimed and bounced the ball in his hand into one of the cups on the opposite side.

Half the crowd erupted into cheers as Chris and Minho celebrated their small victory.

Chris turned from Minho and you watched as his eyes landed on Lilah and even you could see the way his expression changed. It was like no one else was in the room. It was the way Joshua used to look at you.

“Hey!” you heard him say, pulling Lilah into a hug. “You made it!”

You turned your attention to him as he spoke to you. “And you, too?” he asked, offering a hug which you accepted. Despite the empty cups in front of him, he smelled like cologne and not the alcohol you knew he’d consumed since before you even arrived.

“Yeah,” you replied. “She kidnapped me from work!” You nodded at Lilah who smiled sheepishly. Chris turned to look at Lilah, mimicking her grin. “I hope you don’t get in trouble for leaving work,” he replied. You shook your head as Lilah answered him.

“No, in fact, her boss practically kicked her out!”

Chris let out a laugh as he picked up his drink and downed the rest of it. He turned to Minho. “I’m gonna go get a refill,” he announced. Minho nodded nonchalantly before his eyes landed on you and you could have sworn you saw a small smile grace his features before he turned his attention on the opposing team. 

Lilah leaned into your frame to speak directly into your ear. “I’m gonna go help Chris,” she said before downing the rest of her drink and sending you a wink. And just like that, she left you alone.

You looked into your cup, wanting to avoid the gaze of practically everyone.

As you tried to act natural, you felt someone’s gaze on you and glanced up at the side across from Minho and Chris’ and felt your breath catch in your throat.

Changbin was standing with his friend, Jeongguk. They were the opposing team. Jeongguk was sporting a black oversized tee as he usually did but instead of his signature sweats you’d seen him in twice now, he was wearing a pair of jeans and some brown Timberlands.

Changbin on the other hand was dressed for the occasion, wearing a black graphic shirt with white geometric lines and black cargo pants fitted at the ankle and tucked into black combat boots and for the first time you’d ever seen, he was wearing black framed glasses. A pair of dog tags hung from the chain around his neck. Jeongguk was looking at Minho, a very cheeky smile on his lips as he pointed at Minho who glanced down and groaned at seeing a small white ball in one of the cups.

Changbin, however, had his eyes trained on you. His expression was unreadable but when he noticed you looking back, a small smile, almost a shy one, spread across his lips before he looked away. You looked away as well as Lilah and Chris returned with fresh drinks, laughing at some joke you hadn’t heard.

The party raged on around you and you downed your drink. Chris had offered to get you a refill but it was Minho who went instead, despite your protests. Your second drink dwindled quickly and soon you were venturing into the kitchen for something else to sip on.

The pong game had ended after Minho brought your second drink to you and the group had migrated into the kitchen nook, taking up empty seats around the table. Lilah had taken up residence on Chris’ lap and a girl whose name you didn’t know managed to steal Changbin’s lap and make it her spot.

You tried not to watch out of the corner of your eye as the two of them chatted animatedly about his tattoos and as he spoke, he pointed them out to her. You also tried not to pay attention to the way her hand rested on his bicep a little longer than necessary.

Changbin didn’t seem to mind the attention from what you could tell. As you tried to focus on anything else, you noticed in the living room Seungcheol who was leaning into and talking to… Joshua?

Your boyfriend laughed at something Seungcheol said before he caught your eye. He sent a smile your way and turned back to his friend. You managed to find something else to drink and were back at the table, ignoring the way the girl on Changbin’s lap was whispering into his ear.

You tried to focus on the conversation at hand.

“That place was so unsanitary, I’m glad they shut it down,” Ari said from her spot next to Minho who had his arm draped across the back of her chair. “It was an iconic staple!” Lilah argued, turning her head to look at Ari. The blonde rolled her eyes. “You got food poisoning from there like five times, Lil,” she reminded your best friend.

“When did you get food poisoning five times?” you interjected, drawing the attention of half the table.

The girl on Changbin’s lap finally seemed to notice you, giving you a once over before speaking.

“Uh, who the hell are you?” she demanded.

Your attention snapped to her.

You couldn’t focus on her face. Instead, you looked past her at Changbin.

He was looking at her with a look of unmistakable anger. He tapped her back, motioning for her to get up. She got up, still looking at you as he got up and excused himself from the table and disappeared into the crowd.

“She’s my best friend, Pax,” Lilah said sternly. Ari nodded, turning to look at Pax. “Don’t be a cunt, Paxton,” she added. You downed the rest of the liquid in your cup and excused yourself, feeling the overwhelming urge to run away and cry.

It had never bothered you before when some of Lilah’s friends asked who you were but when someone looked at you with such disdain, it really dug deep.

You returned to the kitchen island, glancing around. Joshua was nowhere in sight and you wondered briefly what he was up to. “Hey,” a voice said and you looked up. A man you’d never seen before was standing across from you at the island. “Keep walking buddy,” another voice said and you watched as Minho and Ari passed you, heading for the dance floor.

“Yeah,” Ari added. “She’s taken!”

The two of them disappeared into the dancing crowd, leaving you to the mercy of this talkative stranger.

“So you’re not single I take it?” he asked as you searched through the available drinks. You shook your head. “Nope,” you answered. He leaned in, watching you with brown eyes. “Then where’s your boyfriend?” he asked. You looked up to meet his gaze. 

He was decent looking and who knows. Maybe if you weren’t dating Joshua, you might have taken him up to one of the bedrooms. “He’s around here somewhere,” you replied, sifting through the small trough of ice on the counter, looking through the canned and bottled drinks.

“You should try the punch,” the guy said before winking and standing up straight. “Your boyfriend is a lucky man,” he added before bidding you a goodnight and walking away. Your eyes fell on the bowl of punch and deciding what the hell, you grabbed a clean cup and reached for the ladle.

You scooped a couple ladlefuls into your cup and placed the ladle back into the bowl before lifting the cup to your lips. Before you could take a sip, however, a hand grabbed the cup and tore it from your hand. You looked over as Changbin dumped the cup into the sink and tossed the cup before holding up an unopened can of soda.

You looked from the can up to his eyes and then took the can, offering a small thanks.

He gave you a small smile as you opened the can and took a sip, silence falling over the two of you.

“Lilah mentioned your tolerance,” he said just loud enough for you to hear him. You felt heat rise to your face so instead of speaking, you took another sip of the soda. Changbin watched you before speaking again. “And I’m pretty sure I saw someone spike the punch with something other than alcohol.”

You looked at him, brows raised. He was… looking out for you? You nodded silently, taking another sip of your soda before raising the can. “Thanks by the way,” you said and started to walk away. Changbin followed as you wove through the crowded kitchen.

“So, where did Paxton go?” you asked, noticing she was no longer seated at the table. Changbin glanced at the table before his gaze fell back on you. “Eh, she’s probably with someone else right now,” he answered. “To be honest, I wasn’t really interested in her.”

Changbin had no idea why he was even telling you this. It’s not like you cared about his dating life. Or so he thought. “What about Hana?” He looked up at you, the shock on his face must have shown because you continued to speak. “She seemed nice.” Changbin nodded slowly, still astonished you were even asking.

“Uh, she was,” he admitted. “But we didn’t really have that much in common. The attraction was mainly surface level,” he added. He let out a chuckle. “Actually, I’m pretty sure she only wanted to date me because she might get free tattoos.”

You looked up from your drink, clearly surprised by this admission. You looked away and said something under your breath, prompting him to ask you to say it again.

“If people want you to tattoo them, they should pay for it. Regardless if they’re dating you or work for you,” you replied. “Art is art and people need to remember that artists are people who deserve to be paid for their work.” If Changbin hadn’t already respected you as an artist he certainly did before.

“I couldn’t agree more,” he said more to himself than to you but you seemed to have heard him anyway. “Take my art for instance,” you said as he listened. “If I just gave it away to friends or my boyfriend or my family, the shop would never make any money off something I spent hours, even days, making.”

Changbin nodded as you continued. “Art is a valid career and people need to remember that,” you added, taking another sip of your soda. Changbin watched you briefly before contributing to the conversation. “I’m glad someone else feels the same way about art. A lot of people see art as a hobby and not a livelihood so they expect you to do it for free,” he said as he leaned against the counter.

“They expect you to do it for free because someone else did it for free,” you interjected, catching Changbin off guard. “Which is why I always tell people to never sell themselves short. Don’t do anything for free, especially if you’re good at it.” Changbin’s lips pulled into a half smile.

The conversation between the two of you dwindled as you both watched over the crowd until Changbin noticed you fanning yourself with your hand. “You alright?” Changbin asked, brow knitting together in concern. You forced a smile. “I’m just a little warm. There’s a lot of people here.”

Changbin tossed his empty container in the trash and stood up straight. “You wanna get some fresh air?” he asked and you stared back at him, contemplating your options. You could stay inside where it was really warm but where Joshua could see you or you could go outside with Changbin and cool off.

You hadn’t seen Joshua in a long while so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to go outside. It’s not like you were with a total stranger. Changbin was friends with Chris and if both Lilah and Chris trusted him, then you had no reason not to trust him either.

“Sure,” you replied finally, standing up straight and downing the rest of your soda. Changbin took the empty can from you and tossed it before letting you lead the way to the backdoor, squeezing through the crowded kitchen, into the hallway before finally stepping out into the cool night air.

The backyard was a decent size, fenced in with a privacy fence. The deck was large, accommodating several partygoers and an eight person hot tub that was currently being used. You skipped down the steps, feet landing on the grass. In the corner to your right was a small garden, a large oak tree stood, a rope swing with a wooden seat hung from one of the sturdier branches.

Changbin followed as you walked over to the swing, taking a seat as he stood nearby.

“This is a really nice place,” you noted, looking around the backyard. Changbin nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’m not sure whose place it is,” he added with a chuckle. “Chris and Minho dragged us here,” he continued, moving to stand behind you.

“Yeah, me neither,” you replied, chuckling when you felt him gently push you. “You gonna push me?” you asked as you swayed lightly on the swing. Changbin chuckled, grabbing the rope to stop your momentum. “Sorry,” he said softly. “Old habits.”

You glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. You felt heat rise in your cheeks as you looked away. Changbin let go of the ropes and moved around to lean against the trunk of the tree. “So,” he started, hands in his pockets. “Is that one tea set still at the shop?” he asked.

You turned to look at him. “Which tea set?” you asked, cocking your head. “The kintsugi one,” he answered. You hesitated before answering. “Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s still there.” Changbin nodded silently. “Why do you ask?” you continued. Changbin fought the urge to smile.

“Jeongguk keeps talking about it. I think he really wants it but doesn’t want to admit it.”

You smiled, looking down at your knees. Changbin glanced down as well. He hadn’t said it earlier because he wasn’t sure if it was crossing a line but you looked really nice. The peach skirt with floral pattern complimented your skin and the cream colored flowy blouse looked good on your frame. Your makeup was subtle and different from almost any girl he normally associated with.

His eyes wandered of their own accord, moving down your legs to take in the shoes you wore. Beige colored mary jane style pumps with low heels completed the look and Changbin had to force himself to look away from your legs. If he stared any longer, you might think he was a creep.

“How many tattoos do you have?” you asked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. “Uh,” he hesitated, counting in his head. “A lot,” he finally answered with a chuckle. “Where are they?” you asked, leaning your head against the rope. “Well,” Changbin said, standing up straighter. “I have them almost everywhere,” he answered. “Arms, legs, chest, back,” he continued.

“Do you have full sleeves?” you asked, looking up at him. Your question was genuine and full of curiosity. Something he didn’t expect from you. He nodded. “I do,” he answered. “From the shoulder down to my wrists and a few hand tattoos,” he added. “Which I’m sure you’ve seen by this point,” he added with a chuckle, showing the tops of his hands to you. With a smile, you nodded slowly. 

“And your chest?” you asked. “Oh, just one,” he said softly, raising his hand to place it over his chest tattoo. “A tiger,” he explained. 

A smile grew on your face. “I have plans to add more,” he added. “Jeongguk has the sketches on his tablet.” You smiled at him as he spoke. “Do you have any tattoos?” he asked suddenly and you laughed loudly. “Sorry,” you said as your laughter subsided. “No,” you continued, shaking your head.

“Lilah is the tattooed one.”

Changbin nodded slowly. “Have you ever thought about getting one?” he asked and again you shook your head. “No,” you repeated. “It’s never really interested me before,” you added. Changbin watched as you swayed gently on the swing. “Do tattoos bother you?” he asked, tilting his head.

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “No,” he said softly. “They’re just tattoos,” you added. “Most people in this town are divided when it comes to them. Half the population has them and the other half doesn’t,” you explained. Changbin watched as you started to turn the swing, the rope twisting together above your head. “Some people think archaically,” you continued softly.

“They think people with tattoos are somehow inherently bad.”

Changbin snorted. He’d experienced his fair share of those kinds of people. “And what do you think?” he asked, watching as you lifted your feet and spun around on the swing. “I think tattoos are a lot like accessories only you can’t change them or take them off easily,” you started, putting a foot down to stop your momentum.

“They don’t change a person. You are who you are with or without them,” you continued. “It’s just art but instead of being on a canvas, your skin is the canvas.” Changbin stared at you with new found appreciation. You looked up to meet his gaze, a small smile gracing your features.

Changbin opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“Y/N?” a voice called, making both of you look towards the source.

Changbin watched as your boyfriend, Joshua, walked towards the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, looking from Changbin to you and back. “Everything is fine,” you said, smiling at him. “We’ve just been talking,” you added. Joshua’s gaze shifted to Changbin again.

“Is that right?” he heard Joshua murmur. Either you didn’t hear Joshua or chose to ignore it, the smile on your face not faltering. “I’m heading home,” Joshua announced. “Would you like me to walk you home?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. Changbin glanced at you as you got up from the swing.

You turned to face him. “Thank you for the talk,” you said, brushing off your skirt. Changbin nodded, smiling as you crossed the short distance where Joshua stood. “I’ll see you around,” you added, looking back over your shoulder at him. Changbin nodded. “See you around,” he said.

You took Joshua’s arm and allowed him to steer you towards the house as Changbin watched your figure disappear into the house. Jeongguk appeared moments later, jogging down the steps and walking over to where Changbin stood. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to,” he said.

Changbin shrugged. “You found me,” he joked. Jeongguk nodded, glancing back towards the house. “Were you out here with Y/N?” he asked, walking over and taking a seat on the swing. Changbin nodded silently. “Yeah,” he answered.

Jeongguk stared up at him, one of his brows raised. “It’s not like that,” Changbin said, rolling his eyes. “We were talking inside, she got hot so we came out here to cool off and get some fresh air.” Jeongguk nodded slowly, still giving Changbin a look. “Nothing happened,” Changbin clarified.

“Dude,” Jeongguk said, tattooed hands holding onto the rope. “She’s got a boyfriend.”

Changbin shrugged, gesturing wildly. “Nothing happened! We were talking!” Jeongguk nodded. “I know man. But you know how people are,” he replied. “They’re gonna talk. And you don’t want that kind of attention, trust me.” Changbin nodded, moving around behind Jeongguk and paused.

“You ready to go?” Jeongguk asked. “That Paxton chick was looking for you but I saw her making out with some dude in there like minutes before that.” Changbin nodded again, staring at Jeongguk’s back. “Yeah,” he said, pulling his hands from his pockets.

“I’m ready to go. I just need to do this first,” Changbin said. “Do what-YAH!”

Changbin pushed Jeongguk hard enough to cause him to slip off the wooden swing seat and onto the ground before he took off towards the house. “SEO CHANGBIN!” Jeongguk called as he clumsily got up and chased after him, Changbin giggling maniacally as he squeezed between the other partygoers.

“I’m heading out!” he called to Chris who looked up and nodded, waving at him with Lilah still perched on his lap. Changbin headed for the door as Jeongguk started to enter the kitchen. Changbin managed to make it out the front door and out onto the sidewalk as Jeongguk exited the house and made a beeline for him.

“Truce?” Changbin asked, backing away as his friend advanced on him. “Truce?!”

“No mercy,” Jeongguk said, trying to grab Changbin who managed to dodge and duck Jeongguk’s attempts before the older finally gave up. “You’re too small,” he whined as Changbin laughed, keeping pace with him as they walked away from the house.

“Too fast for you,” Changbin clarified. Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure,” he retorted.

“Too fast and short.”

Your walk with Joshua was mostly full of silence as you held onto his arm, thankful he matched your pace as you walked. The night was cool and the air crisp now that the sun had set. The sound of crickets still lingered as you walked through the mostly empty streets.

“So,” Joshua finally said, breaking the silence between you. “What were you doing outside with Changbin?” he asked. You looked at him, shrugging your shoulders. “We were just talking,” you answered. “We started talking inside the kitchen. He warned me that the punch bowl might have been spiked with something other than alcohol,” you added.

Joshua looked at you, eyes wide. “Really?” he asked. You nodded and continued to speak. “Yeah, so he gave me an unopened can of soda and then we went outside cause I was feeling a little warm. Too many bodies in one room,” you added. “And we just talked.”

“What did you talk about?” You looked up at Joshua again, trying to discern the look on his face. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuinely curious or if he was prying. Either way, you had nothing to hide from him. 

“We talked about his tattoos,” you answered. “He asked if I had any and I told him no. We also talked about art.” Joshua nodded as you walked, mulling over your words. “Art, huh?” he asked more to himself than to you. “You know, the last thing I want to do is make you feel like you’re a child incapable of making your own choices,” Joshua started and you suddenly felt as if you should have lied.

“But I don’t like the idea of you and him alone together,” he continued. You held back what you really wanted to say, choosing instead to smooth over it. “We weren’t alone,” you reminded him. “There were plenty of other people outside.”

Joshua looked at you as the two of you neared your apartment building. “A bunch of drunk people,” he said as you slowed to a stop at the base of the stairs. “Joshua,” you started, letting go of his arm and turning to face him. “I was fine. Chris and Lilah trust Changbin and I trust them, so why shouldn’t I trust Changbin?” you asked.

Joshua sighed, taking both your hands in his and pulled you closer. “I’m just looking out for you,” he replied, placing your arms around his waist and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “I don’t trust any man alone with you,” he added.

“Don’t trust them,” you started, pulling back to look up at him. “Or don’t trust me?”

Joshua clicked his tongue in mild annoyance, taking your face in his hands. “I don’t trust them,” he replied. “I trust you fully,” he added, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. “Then,” you said as he pulled back. “Trust me to handle myself,” you continued.

“I’m not a damsel in distress that you have to save all the time,” you reminded him.

“I’ll see you Sunday,” you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “After church?” he asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head. “I have to have dinner with my parents,” you explained. “I need to borrow one of their cars and the fee is dinner,” you added.

Joshua looked at you with a mix of concern and confusion.

“Why do you need to borrow one of their cars?” he asked. “I can take you anywhere you need to go, you know that,” he said softly, caressing your cheek. “I know,” you chuckled, taking one of his hands and pulling it away from your face. “But you work Monday,” you reminded him.

“What’s Monday?” he asked, cocking his head. “Mr. Serizawa asked me to go to the next town over and pick up Daniel,” you explained. “Lilah is going with me so I won’t be making the drive alone.” Joshua nodded and sighed. “I wish you’d told me sooner. I would have requested it off,” he replied.

You smiled at him. “It’s alright,” you responded, pulling his other hand from your cheek. “I’ll be okay,” you added. “I’m just going to the ferry station to pick him up and then coming straight back, but it will take most of the day,” you continued. “Besides, a little road trip with Lilah should be fun.”

Joshua smiled and nodded. “Well, I suppose it’ll be okay. I’ll see you when you get back then? We could grab dinner, maybe watch a movie at my place?” he said, holding onto your hand as you climbed one step. “Sure,” you said, looking back at him. “Perfect,” he replied.

“Get some sleep,” he said as you took another step. “Hey,” he called, gently tugging your hand and making you look at him. “I love you,” he said, stepping up onto the bottom step. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his, following his lead as his lips parted and his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“I love you, too,” you replied as you pulled back. “Get some sleep, babe,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and letting go of your hand as you climbed the rest of the steps. “Goodnight,” you called, looking back as you reached the door. “Night, babe,” he replied as you unlocked the door and entered the building.

You headed up the stairs to your door, unlocking and letting yourself into your apartment. Tomorrow you’d tackle your chores since Sunday you had church and Monday morning you’d be leaving to go pick up Daniel.

You dropped your purse on the counter and shrugged off your jacket, draping it over the back of one of the island barstools. You sat on the couch, bending over to remove your shoes and stood up to take them to the door, making sure the door was locked.

You headed to your bedroom, slowly stripping out of your clothes and changing into something more comfortable. You headed back into the kitchen to grab a snack as you had left work and gone straight to the party without eating dinner.

While you ate, you scrolled your social media feeds on your phone before finally turning off all the lights and settling down for bed, leaving your phone on the charger on your nightstand. It didn’t take long after climbing into bed for you to pass out.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

It had been a couple days since the party and you had gone to your parents’ house after church the following Sunday for dinner and to ask your father to borrow a car to pick up Daniel. You’d sat through the usual interrogation that occurred, asking about your job, your relationship, and somehow your parents managed to swing the conversation around to Lilah.

You did your best to answer the questions as vaguely as possible. After agreeing to spend the night at your mother’s request, the next morning, you headed out, stopping at your place before driving over to pick up Lilah.

As you pulled up to Lilah’s building, you slipped your phone out of your purse and typed out a quick message. You knew Lilah could sometimes take a moment to answer or even read her messages but as you looked up from your phone, you were surprised to see Lilah already walking towards you.

She waved as she got into view. You waved back, putting your phone in the holder on the dashboard as Lilah opened the door and got in. She smiled as he set her bag on the floorboard behind your seat and started to buckle her seatbelt as you put in the address for the ferry station.

“Hey,” Lilah said as the seatbelt clicked in place. “Hey,” you replied pressing the start button on your phone navigation. “How was dinner with your parents?” Lilah asked as you put the car in gear and pulled out of your parking space.

“It was… dinner with my parents,” you replied with a slight chuckle. “Did they grill you about your job again?” You nodded as you drove, following the road that led to the highway. “As usual,” you added. Lilah shook her head as she settled into her seat.

“And did they ask when you and Joshua are getting married?” You glanced at Lilah and your expression said everything. “Of course they did,” she scoffed as you continued to follow the signs for the highway. “Why do they always ask that? It’s not like you’re in a big rush to get married and settle down,” she added. “This isn’t the nineteen-fifties. You don’t need to be married with kids by the time you’re thirty.”

You hummed in agreement as you turned onto the highway and started to speed up to merge with traffic.

“You know how they are,” you replied. “I’m sure Joshua is getting the same treatment.”

Lilah snorted as she pulled out her phone and started fiddling with the bluetooth settings of the car.

“Yeah, well Joshua has always been a bit… old-fashioned.”

You glanced at your best friend as she focused on pairing her phone.

“And what does that make me?” you asked softly.

Lilah didn’t look up as her phone connected and she started playing her music. “You know how I feel about your relationship with Josh,” she said softly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. You sighed softly as you changed lanes to go around a van crawling ahead of you. “I know,” you replied.

An awkward silence settled between you as Lilah turned the music up a bit.

She had always made her thoughts about Joshua known, especially after she and Seungcheol split and now that Joshua was starting to show more controlling tendencies. You understood and appreciated her concern but you knew you could handle your boyfriend when it came down to it.

“So,” you finally said, wanting to change the subject. “Tell me about this new tattoo you’re getting.”

It seemed to be the right call on your part, asking Lilah about tattoos always put her in a much better mood. She started off showing you pictures of the inspiration of the tattoo she was getting. She explained the details, even the minute ones. She finally showed you a drawing of the final design and explained the colors and shading that would be used.

“It sounds really cool,” you said as she put her phone back in the console. “I love the flowers.”

Lilah’s smile widened. “You wanna go with me to my appointment?” It wasn’t uncommon for Lilah to ask this and more than once you’d gone with her to get piercings but you’d never been to one of her tattoo appointments. “When is it?”

“Wednesday,” she replied, watching you as you contemplated. “I’m not off until six on Wednesday,” you explained. Lilah nodded. “It’s at seven,” she offered, hoping it might sway your decision. “It’ll take a few hours but you’re off on Thursdays,” she continued.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch as a smirk threatened to spread across your face. “I didn’t realize you had my schedule memorized,” you replied to which Lilah let out a laugh. “You’re my best friend,” she started as the song on the stereo changed. “Of course I know your schedule.”

You grimaced but said nothing. You thought about the conversation you’d had with Joshua the night of the party. He didn’t trust Changbin to be around you alone so surely being surrounded by people at the tattoo shop was fine.

Then again, you suspected it was really you Joshua didn’t trust though you couldn’t fathom why. You’d never so much as thought about another man since you started dating him. You’d never entertained the thought of cheating nor would you ever.

You were loyal.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Lilah’s voice snapped you out of it. You blinked rapidly and looked over at her quickly. “Sorry,” you replied. “What did you say?”

Lilah settled back against her seat. “I asked if you want to go with me to my appointment after you get off work,” she repeated. You nibbled on your bottom lip, checking your mirrors before changing lanes to go around yet another slow moving vehicle.

“Fine,” you finally answered, switching back into the lane in front of the truck. “I’ll go with you but I’m not getting anything and I expect you to respect that,” you added. Lilah nodded excitedly. “I’m just glad you’re going with me!” she said, grabbing her phone and changing the music.

“For moral support,” you explained. “That’s all.”

The first hour of the trip was spent listening to music, chatting. Lilah told you about the progress of her situation with Chris, keeping you up-to-date on all the juicy gossip among her friend group. You didn’t care much for gossip but you knew Lilah and how much she loved it so you let her carry on.

“Which reminds me,” she said as she finished telling you about Ari’s mishap at the party where she fell going up the steps with Minho. “Where did you go?” she asked. You glanced at her before looking back at the road. “When?” you asked.

“During the party,” Lilah asked. “Ari and Minho went upstairs to hook up in one of the many rooms,” she stated. “Hana spent the whole night outside in the hot tub, Paxton says she hooked up with Changbin--” you snorted, drawing her attention. “What?” she asked.

You glanced at her and then back at the road, fighting the urge to laugh. “She’s lying,” you replied.

Lilah eyed you suspiciously. “How do you know?” she asked. “I mean, I did see her making out with a guy that looked an awful lot like him,” she said, watching as you burst into laughter. “When does she say this hook up occurred?” you asked. Lilah shrugged. “I’m not sure. Probably around the time you disappeared.” You laughed again.

“She may have hooked up with a guy,” you said as you kept your eyes on the road. “But it certainly wasn’t Changbin,” you added. Lilah narrowed her eyes. “How do you know?” she asked. “Cause he was with me outside,” you replied.

Lilah’s jaw dropped.” You got in the hot tub in your skivvies and didn’t tell me?!” she yelled. You looked at her incredulously. “Okay first of all, never say skivvies again,” you started, laughing. “And second, no,” you continued. “Changbin stopped me from drinking the punch and gave me a can of soda and we started talking.”

Lilah watched you as you continued to explain. “And then I got warm inside the kitchen so we went outside to get some fresh air and continued our talk. We were over by the garden. And then Joshua came up and I left with him,” you explained.

“Changbin was with you the whole time?” Lilah asked and you nodded. “So unless he went back in and hooked up with her after, which I doubt because he told me he doesn’t even really like her, she’s either lying or she doesn’t remember who she really hooked up with.”

Lilah let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Changbin told you he doesn’t like her?” she asked, to which you nodded. “Yeah. He said he also doesn’t really like Hana,” you continued. Lilah sighed, leaning back in her seat. “Is there anyone he does like?” she wondered and you shrugged.

“Maybe stop trying to set him up with your friends and let him do his own thing?” you asked and Lilah clicked her tongue. “That’s no fun,” she pouted, crossing her arms before she gasped. “What?” you asked, looking around. “I have an amazing idea!” she said, bouncing in her seat.

You groaned. “I thought you saw something,” you whined. “Don’t do that gasping thing when I’m driving!” Lilah grimaced. “Sorry, but wait until you hear this idea!” she said, sitting forward. “I have the perfect match for Changbin!”

You turned to look at her. “We just talked about this Lilah!” you admonished. “Leave the poor man be!” Lilah shook her head. “I can’t. This pairing is just too perfect!” she said, pulling her phone out and scrolling through it. “I know this girl. I think she’d be perfect for him.”

You sighed as you continued to drive. ‘Poor Changbin.’

The next two hours were spent listening to music until you stopped at a small town to get coffee and something to eat now that you were both more awake and hungry. “Look at her,” Lilah said, showing you a picture of a really pretty girl with a pale complexion. She had split colored hair, half blonde and the other half black. 

In the picture her hair was curled in soft waves reaching her shoulders, half of it pulled up into a high ponytail with strands framing her face. She had makeup similar to the style Lilah wore, graphic liner, heavy blush on her cheeks and nose, highlighter, false lashes, but she differed in that she wore nude pink lip colors.

She was covered in ink, tattoos decorating her chest, shoulders, and arms. She had multiple nose piercings, an upper lip piercing, stretched ears and multiple cartilage piercings. She had a slim waist with curves. 

She wore a high waisted black pleated skirt with black fishnets and combat boots. The shirt was black with white stripes and a tiny green alien peeking out of a small pocket on the chest tucked into the skirt. Half her curled hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, strands falling and framing her face.

“She’s pretty,” you noted with a nod. Lilah swiped to another picture. “She’s an instagram model too,” she explained, showing you the next picture. It was of the same girl kneeling on a bed, wearing a high waisted black thong with lace and a cropped shirt with a Mario star on it. She had extensions in her hair, part of it pulled up into twintails, the rest cascading in waves.

She wore a pink headset with kitty ears, white thigh highs with pink bows and in her hands was a gaming controller. You said nothing, instead nodding as you waited for your food to be ready. “She’s really cool,” Lilah said, fawning over her phone.

You watched as she scrolled a bit more and showed you a few more pictures before asking for your opinion. “Do you think he’d like her?” she asked. You looked at your best friend. “Why are you asking me?” you asked. Lilah shrugged. “I thought maybe since he told you what he didn’t like, he might have told you what he does like.” You snorted, shaking your head.

“Most certainly not,” you replied. Lilah sighed, returning her attention to her phone. “I’ll ask her if she’s interested anyway.” You said nothing again, instead focusing on the barista as she bagged up your food and grabbed your coffees. 

Back in the car, you ate your sandwich quickly while Lilah fiddled with her phone, exchanging messages. “She’s interested!” she said excitedly. “She wants me to send a picture of Changbin. Should I just take one from his insta?” she asked, looking up at you.

You shrugged, wanting to stay out of it. “Do you have any pictures of him on your phone?” you asked. Lilah stared at you unblinkingly. “Why would I have pictures of him on my phone?” she asked. You shrugged again. Lilah fiddled with her phone. “I think Chris follows him,” she murmured, searching through Chris’ follow list.

You started the engine and pulled out of your parking space, pulling onto the road and making your way back to the highway as Lilah searched for Changbin’s account. “Shit, it’s private,” she hissed. “And that’s bad?” you asked as Lilah grabbed your phone, unlocking it with your passcode.

“How do you know my passcode?” you asked incredulously. “It’s not like it’s a secret,” she said, looking up at you. “It’s your dead dog’s birthday,” she reminded you. “Isn’t yours Chris’ birthday?” you asked, eyeing her. She stuck her tongue out at you as she pulled up instagram, going into the search bar.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to keep your eyes on the road and on her at the same time. “I’m gonna follow him from your account,” she said nonchalantly. “What?” you shouted, reaching for your phone. “Hey, hey!” she shouted, shielding your phone from you.

“Eyes on the road, maniac!” she added, pointing at the road. “Why can’t you follow him from your account?” you asked angrily. “You follow his tattoo page, don’t you? And you follow the shop!” Lilah ignored you, typing in Changbin’s name. “I don’t follow either!” you added.

“I know,” she said softly. “That’s why I’m making you follow them all right now,” she added with a mischievous grin. You tried to snatch your phone again only for her to pull away. “You’ll crash if you keep doing that,” she retorted.

You checked the mirrors before pulling over and parking the car.

“What are you--”

You reached over and snatched your phone, looking at the screen. “You’re literally insane,” you said as you made sure she wasn’t able to follow any of the accounts through your phone before opening your settings and changing your passcode, shielding the screen from her.

“Y/N!” Lilah pouted as you locked your phone and set it in the console. “Use your own account,” you replied, putting the car back in drive and slowly pulling forward to pull back onto the highway. Lilah grumbled as she grabbed her phone and tapped away on the screen.

The next couple hours went by without issue, mostly listening to music as Lilah texted back and forth with a few people. “He followed me back,” Lilah announced as you followed the signs for the ferry station. You were getting close to the coastal town. “He doesn’t have many pictures on here,” she said as she scrolled. “Which one should I send?” she asked as you got off the highway and came to a stop at the light.

You glanced at the phone and she showed two different pictures.

The first looked more recent. It looked as though he’d just woken up, his hair was messy and curly. ‘Is that what his hair naturally looks like?’ you wondered silently. His tattoos were visible and he was wearing his signature fitted black tee shirt.

The other picture was older. His hair was a completely different color. It almost didn’t look like him. His hair was styled and he wore a black suit with a red tie. He looked amazing. His hand tattoos were missing and you wondered how old the photo was.

“The first one,” you answered. “It looks more recent,” you added. Lilah nodded, looking back down as she took a screenshot of the picture and you waited for the light to change. The drive through the sleepy seaside town was quiet, most people were at work or school as you drove, winding down the side of the mountain. In the distance you could see the ocean, waves crashing into the sandy beach.

You pulled into the ferry station parking lot with some time to kill and parked the car. “Let’s go get some pictures,” Lilah said excitedly. You grabbed your jacket from the backseat and got out, locking the doors and pulling on your jacket as Lilah pulled her hood up over her head and shoved her hands in her pockets. You followed behind her, checking the time on your phone before pocketing the device and rushing to catch up with your best friend.

The look out over the ocean gave a spectacular view and you could see an island not far from shore. “You want to go down to the shore?” Lilah asked over the wind. You nodded and followed her down the steps leading to the shore. The sand was unlike what you expected. Less like sand and more like stones. Pebbles. You were glad you chose to wear sneakers and were sure Lilah was faring just as well in her boots. “Look!” Lilah called, hurrying over to a spot and kneeling down.

You followed her and leaned over her back as she unearthed a rather large piece of sea glass. “Whoa,” you said as she lifted it to reveal another piece under it. You reached down, grabbing the second piece, revealing yet another piece of sea glass.

“It’s like a rabbit hole,” you murmured, picking up the other piece. “These are so cool,” Lilah said, looking over the piece in her hands. You looked down at it. She held a black piece with tiny white flecks from who knows how many years spent in the sea water.

It was shaped like a shark fin, smooth and rounded at all three points and flat. “I wonder what this is,” Lilah said, flipping it over to look at the other side. “It’s glass,” you pointed out. Lilah looked up at the pieces in your hands. A bright pink and a deep purple, both frosted like hers.

“What kind of glass is black?” she asked, looking back down at hers. You held out your hand, lifting to inspect the glass she placed in your palm. “It’s probably from a really old bottle,” you started, handing her the pink and purple to inspect.

You held the black up towards the sky, tilting and turning it. “It’s green,” you stated. “Along the edges, it’s hard to see without the light,” you explained. “It’s probably from really old beer or gin bottles,” you added, handing it back to her, taking the pink and purple from her.

“What about those?” Lilah asked, nodding at your hands. “The pink is probably from the Great Depression era,” you noted. “Pink glassware was common during that time period because it was decorative but extremely cheap,” you explained, looking at the pink piece.

“The purple,” you began, shifting your gaze to it. It was a deep rich purple color, frosted just like the others due to exposure and time spent in the ocean. “Probably came from purple glass. Between 1840 and 1880, hair tonics were commonly sold in amethyst bottles,” you explained, turning the piece over. “But it could very well be glass made with manganese.”

Lilah stared at you as you looked over the glass. “What’s that?” she asked. “Venetian glassmakers discovered they could neutralize the color caused by imperfections in glass by adding manganese to the sand and create clear glass,” you explained, handing over the purple piece.

“But over time, the glass will turn purple when exposed to ultraviolet rays,” you continued, looking down at the ground, searching for more glass. “I’ve heard sea glass glows under a black light,” Lilah said, looking up to watch you explore. “Is that true?” she asked.

You shook your head, pushing some pebbles aside and unearthing another black piece of sea glass. “No,” you replied. “Uranium glass glows under black light,” you replied, digging out the piece and holding it up. ‘More green edges,’ you noted.

“Uranium glass has uranium added to the glass before melting,” you explained. “It produces green glass that then glows under a black light,” you continued. “That’s so cool,” Lilah said as she watched you dig in the pebbles. “How do you know all this?” she asked.

“We’ve gotten a lot of different glass types in the shop,” you said, looking up. “Including an entire tea set made from uranium glass,” you added. You managed to find a few more pieces of sea glass ranging from blue to clear but no more purple or pink.

You stood up, brushing your hands off as a horn sounded in the distance and both you and Lilah turned to see the ferry in the distance. “Let’s go,” you said softly, leading the way back to the steps. You and Lilah had found a decent amount of sea glass and pocketed it to take back home.

Back up at the station, you and Lilah huddled close to the building to avoid the wind that had picked up. “Fuck! I should have worn sweat,” you cursed and Lilah laughed, huddling closer. “Would they hurry up and disembark already?” she snapped.

Finally it seemed like the wait was over and the gates opened, passengers making their way off the boat. This early in the morning you didn’t expect so many passengers but it sort of made sense. People making the earliest commute possible.

You spotted Daniel and waved, calling out to him. He spotted you and a smile spread across his face, weaving through the other passengers until he reached you, pulling you into a hug. He’d grown taller, nearing almost six feet. “Jii-chan said you were coming so I was really excited to see you,” he said as he let you go. “You got taller,” you noted, making him laugh.

He turned, noticing Lilah. “Lilah?” he asked, almost shocked to see her. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he added, pulling her into a hug as well. “Y/N asked me to keep her company on the drive out here,” she replied. “And she annoyed me the whole way here,” you added, dodging Lilah’s attempt to slap your arm. 

Daniel was amused by your antics as he followed you two back to the car, listening and laughing as you bickered back and forth. Once his luggage was put in the trunk and the three of you inside, strapped in, you put the car in drive and pulled carefully out of the parking lot.

You asked Daniel about his time in Busan and Jeju.

“It was amazing!” he said excitedly. “We went to the aquarium in Busan and hung out on the beach most of the time,” he explained, going into further detail, describing the beach. “And then in Jeju, we went to their aquarium and we also went hiking. So much hiking!”

You smiled as he went on. “And then, since we finished our itinerary early, we took the ferry to Japan,” he continued. You nodded, glancing up in the mirror at him. “That would explain why your grandfather asked me to pick you up at the ferry station and not the airport or bus station,” you mused.

“Tell me about Japan,” Lilah said, turning in her seat to look at Daniel.

You listened to him tell his stories of Fukuoka and the surrounding areas. He talked about the food, what the group did, and even showed pictures on his phone of him and his friends.

“It sounds like you had a really good time,” you said after listening to him go on for almost an hour. He nodded as Lilah took his phone to look at a photo of him and his friends. She swiped to the next photo and let out a yell. Daniel noticed and tried to grab his phone but Lilah held it out of his reach.

“Who is this?” she asked, looking at a picture of just Daniel and a girl. She showed you. It was very pretty girl you recognized him meeting with for study sessions. “Is that Kari?” you asked, taking your eyes off the road briefly to get a better look.

“Give it back,” Daniel protested, trying to grab his phone from Lilah. “She’s cute!” Lilah remarked as she swiped through a few more photos of Daniel and Kari. “Will you stop it!” Daniel grumbled, fighting to regain control of his phone but Lilah swiped again and gasped.

“What?” you asked, glancing between her and the road. She showed you the phone and it was a picture of the two, Daniel was taking the photo and Kari had her head turned kissing his cheek. “Daniel!” you said, sounding scandalized. He groaned, leaning back in his seat and pulled his beanie down over his face.

“Dannie’s got a girlfriend!” Lilah said in a singsong voice as she looked at more photos. Daniel groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry, Dannie,” you said, making him peek out from under his hat. “I won’t tell your grandparents.”

He sat up, readjusting his beanie and waited, watching Lilah before he made his move, snatching his phone back. “Yah! I was looking at pictures of you and your girlfriend,” she whined. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he clarified. “We haven’t even been on a date.”

“Then change that,” Lilah said, turning to look back at him. “Ask her out. Go to the bowling alley or something else. Something you kids find fun these days.” You glanced at her. “You kids?” you asked her and she shrugged. “He’s in high school,” you added. “He’s not twelve.”

“Take her to the fall festival,” you suggested. “That’s coming up soon.” Daniel shook his head, not looking up. “I can’t ask her out,” he murmured. “And why the hell not?” Lilah asked, turning to look back at him. “Because,” Daniel said softly. “You saw her,” he added. “She’s gorgeous.”

Lilah scoffed and you snapped your fingers. “Look up,” you said. “Look at me Daniel.”

He looked up, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Don’t do that to yourself. You are an extremely intelligent, funny, and good looking guy. Kari would be an idiot to say no to you,” you said in a firm but gentle tone. “And if she says no, I’ll kick her butt,” Lilah added. “She’s a minor,” you said incredulously. “You can’t beat up a minor, Lilah!”

Daniel smiled as the two of you bickered. “Thanks, you two,” he said softly.

The next hour passed quickly as Daniel told Lilah more about Japan and what Fukuoka was like. You listened, keeping your eyes on the road as you drove. Another hour in, you glanced down at the gas gauge and sighed. “I gotta make a stop,” you announced, pulling off the highway at the next exit.

“We’re running low on gas.”

Daniel and Lilah continued to chat as you filled up, both of them heading into the convenience store. While the pump worked, you pulled out your phone, checking your notifications. You had a couple texts from Joshua, asking how the trip was going.

You texted him back before noticing another notification from Instagram. You had a new follower and opened the app. Your eyes widened as you read the username, tapping on the profile and your lips parted in a soft gasp. Changbin had found and followed your account.

Your thumb hovered over the follow back button before tapping it quickly as Lilah and Daniel headed back to the car. You pocketed your phone as the pump switched off and took the nozzle out of the tank, placing it back in the cradle.

Getting back in the car, you set your phone in the console, buckling your seatbelt and Lilah and Daniel divided up their snack haul. “We got you something to drink and some snacks as well,” Daniel said as he pulled a bottle of soda out of the bag and set it in one of the cup holders.

“Thanks,” you said softly as you started the engine and pulled out of the gas station parking lot, following the signs to get back on the highway.

As you drove, you tuned out Lilah and Daniel’s conversation, instead mulling over the notification you’d gotten from Instagram about Changbin’s personal account. How did he find you? Had Lilah gotten through before you grabbed your phone?

You glanced over at your best friend, meeting her gaze. “What?” she asked softly.

You shook your head and looked straight ahead. “What?” Lilah asked again. It took a couple more minutes for Lilah to pry it out of you.

“Did you like one of Changbin’s pictures on my account or something earlier?” you asked softly. Lilah’s confused expression morphed into one of excitement. “No,” she answered. “Why? Did he follow you?” she asked excitedly. You narrowed your eyes, glaring at her.

“What did you do?” you hissed, not noticing how Daniel leaned forward between the two of you.

“Who is Changbin?” he asked suddenly, making both you and Lilah jump. You glanced at his curious expression. “No one,” you said quickly, hoping Lilah would drop the subject but when you looked at her, a mischievous grin had taken up residence on her face.

“Don’t,” you warned her. “I just want to know why he followed me.”

Lilah laughed excitedly, grabbing your phone. “What did you change your passcode to?” she asked as she stared at the screen. “It’s none of your damn business,” you retorted, snatching your phone from her hands only for her to pout at you.

“I just need screenshots of his pictures to send to Riley,” she grumbled as you set your phone in the pocket on the driver’s side door, far from her reach. “I told you,” you replied as you continued to drive. “Follow him from your own account.”

“And what would Chris think?” Lilah asked, crossing her arms. “Uh, that’s you’re following your tattoo artist on instagram who you also happen to be friends with?” you offered. Lilah scoffed. “You’re no fun,” she mumbled as she sank down in her seat.

“Is someone going to explain what’s going on?” Daniel asked, making you and Lilah glance back at him. You’d partially forgotten he was there as you and Lilah bickered about Changbin and his instagram account. “Who is Changbin?”

Lilah turned to look back at him, turning in her seat. “He’s new to Sejong,” Lilah explained. “He just moved here and opened a tattoo shop on Market,” she continued. “And why are you following his instagram from Y/N’s account?” Daniel asked slowly.

“Because I need pictures of him to send to this girl I know who is interested in him!”

You sighed as you followed the signs for Sejong. “Despite the fact that he didn’t like either girl you threw at him before,” you interjected. “Changbin isn’t a wall that you throw girls at like pasta and expect them to stick. Let the poor guy settle into Sejong, let him figure things out for himself.”

Lilah’s lips curled up into a devious smirk. “You like him, don’t you?” she asked. Your eyes widened and you turned to look back at her. “What?” you asked incredulously. “I knew it!” Lilah said excitedly, sitting up quickly. “You like him!” Daniel looked between you and Lilah quickly, eyes wide.

“Lilah,” you said sternly. “I have a boyfriend.” Lilah rolled her eyes. “Yeah, a shit one,” she murmured. You reached out, smacking her arm. “Ow!” she exclaimed, holding the spot you hit. “Don’t start that shit again,” you snapped. “Joshua isn’t perfect,” you continued. “None of us are.”

You stared at her pointedly. Lilah conceded and sunk back into her seat. “Fine,” she groaned. “So, this Changbin guy,” Daniel asked, leaning forward, breaking the tension. “What kind of ink does he do?”

The rest of the ride, Lilah showed Daniel pictures on Changbin’s professional instagram, showing off his previous work and explaining the tattoo she commissioned from him. You listened as you drove. The sun had started to set as you reached the outskirts of Sejong, driving through town and heading for the Serizawa’s house. Daniel had wanted to come back and stay a few days with his grandparents before moving back into the apartment above the shop.

“Thank you so much again,” Daniel said as he leaned down to peer into your window, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “It was good to see you, Lilah,” he added. Your best friend leaned forward, smiling at him. “You too, Danny,” she replied. Daniel turned his attention back to you.

“I’ll see you at the shop,” he said and you nodded. “See you later,” you replied as he waved and headed for the front door of his grandparents’ house. You waited, watching to make sure he made it in safely before driving off and making your way to Lilah’s building. The ride was silent as you followed the memorized route.

“I’m sorry,” Lilah said, her soft voice punctuating the silence. “For what I said about Josh,” she clarified. “I know I should stay out of it,” she continued. “But I can’t help it. Not when I see how he treats you from the outside.” You pulled to a stop outside her building.

“He’s too controlling,” she added. “I know you care about me,” you started, turning to look at her. “But please trust me when I say I can handle it. I know how to handle my boyfriend,” you added. “If I need help, you will be the first to know.” Lilah nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning over the center console to pull you into a tight hug.

“You’re still coming to my tattoo appointment, right?” she asked as she pulled back, making sure to grab her bag and things from the cupholders. You nodded. “Of course,” you replied as she opened the door and got out, leaning over to look at you through the open window. “You promise?” she asked.

You nodded again with a smile.

“I promise.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Wednesday came much faster than you were expecting. Lilah had asked the days leading up to the appointment if you were still going with her and you kept reassuring her you’d go. It wasn’t like you hadn’t attended her appointments before, you had. So why she was so adamant about you attending this one was lost on you. Until you showed up to White Lotus Studio.

Lilah had insisted on you meeting her at the shop instead of going there together. You didn’t really question it since you only had an hour after getting off work to go home, change and meet her. You didn’t really need to change but you preferred to.

The walk to the shop didn’t take long and soon you were walking up to the door, stepping aside as a couple of patrons exited, chatting excitedly about whatever work they’d gotten done. Lilah was seated inside on one of the black armchairs you’d sold Changbin as you crossed the threshold into the building. It seemed to be a busy day, each station was occupied.

Minho was sitting on a black stool, working on the leg of a man you’d seen briefly at some of the parties Lilah brought you to. In the same space, Chris was explaining jewelry options to a girl who was getting her ears pierced for the first time, her friends crowded around her but staring at Chris instead of the jewelry.

You walked over to Lilah who was talking to Hana and looked up in time to catch a glimpse of Changbin through a glass window. He was talking to a client, no doubt explaining something related to the tattoo he’d just done as he wrapped it. Your eyes lingered a moment longer as you really studied him.

You’d only ever seen him outside the studio in social settings. Parties, the club, and your work. You never saw him in his own element before. He looked much more confident in this setting.

You tore your gaze away before he caught you staring and smiled as you moved to sit on the ottoman across from Lilah. Your best friend smiled widely, leaning forward to pull you into an awkward hug. “You made it!” she said happily. You chuckled as she let go and nodded. “I said I would,” you replied.

You turned to Hana, nodding politely. Hana returned the gesture and then went back to her phone, thumbs tapping on the screen. You took the lapse in conversation to look around the shop. It was a completely different space from what you remembered. The walls were mostly an off-white color except for a bump out that was painted entirely black with a massive tiger painted.

The decal was impressive and looked imposing and intimidating, as if the tiger was leaping from the wall. Whoever had painted it was incredibly talented. Behind Lilah was a counter, behind which Paxton stood. She threw a dirty look your way but you ignored it. You were here for Lilah and if Paxton didn’t like it, that wasn’t your fault.

The front of the counter was glass, showing off a vast array of jewelry for all types of piercings. Bright lights mounted to the underside of the counter top made the gems in some of the pieces sparkle. You looked away at the black velvet sofa. You wondered where Changbin had gotten it as it was almost a perfect match to the armchairs. 

Behind the sofa, on the same wall as the tiger bump out, large rectangular planters stood behind the sofa, dark bamboo stood against the wall in contrast with the paint.

You looked towards the front of the shop, a low console table, also painted black with a matte finish and glass surface, stood under the large box window with books sitting atop the surface. The box window had a small collection of decorations in it, a few small statues of buddha, a dragon perched atop its treasure hoard, a golden lucky cat waving at anyone who passed by.

The rooms were separated by half walls with large glass windows, the doorways were open square arches. The walls inside each room were different in the decor and decals. In the room Minho and Chris were working, a dragon decal had been painted in the center of the wall, lined up with the door. A neon sign, green in color, hung on the wall next to the dragon displaying the name of a brewery in town.

There was a backlit shadow box with comic strips framed and spaced evenly from top to bottom.

You looked away from the room, taking note of the light wood floor with pale ashy tones, the black and gray ornamental rug that filled the lobby area was stunning and the patterns very intricate. You wondered if Changbin knew about the history of the rug and if so, you’d love to hear about it.

Changbin had gotten so used to the sound of the bell that he almost didn’t hear it anymore, especially when he was in the middle of an appointment with a client but whenever the tattoo gun wasn’t in his hand, he paid more attention.

Looking up as the bell rang, he saw two patrons leaving, both having been serviced by Chris. Changbin was about to return his gaze to the client who was currently counting bills when his heart skipped a beat. You had just walked in, politely bowing to the clients who were leaving.

It had been several days since Changbin had last seen you at the house party Chris and Minho had invited him and Jeongguk to. You looked just as radiant as ever. You wore a light pink jacket over a flowy cream colored dress where the hem fell just above your knees.

The tights you wore with the ensemble were nude with a swirly floral pattern. You’d paired the look with black suede pumps with straps which brought out the black details of the dress. A thin black ribbon tie at the high neck, black buttons that went up the front of the bust. It was a simple look but you made it look anything but simple. Every time Changbin saw you, somehow you always managed to look so well put together. It was clear you spent a lot of time picking out your outfits and planning things.

From your outfit to your makeup and hair. It was a huge contrast to your best friend who Changbin had noticed was wearing high waisted black cut-off jean shorts, a black tank tucked in and a black oversized cardigan. She wore black combat boots much like Changbin and it never managed to surprise him how different the two of you were.

Like night and day.

Changbin smiled as his client handed him a wad of cash, thanking him for the newest work on his calf before exiting. Changbin quickly counted the money, moving over to the counter and opening the top drawer where he kept his built-in safe, carefully putting in the code and opening the door. He separated a few of the larger bills before adding the cash to the safe, closing it up and tucking the rest in his wallet.

He went about cleaning up his station to set up for the next appointment, trying not to look out the window where he could only see the top of your head. He could faintly hear you talking to Lilah but couldn’t make out what the two of you were talking about.

He picked up the spray bottle on the counter and gave the chair a few sprays, quickly wiping the surface down. He moved about his station, opening and closing drawers and cabinets as he gathered the supplies he would need for Lilah’s tattoo. Once he had the basics, he exited the room, popping over to Jeongguk’s station to check on his progress.

He then left the room and walked into the lobby. He noticed how you were looking around, no doubt inspecting his choice in decor. He suddenly felt self-conscious. How would you perceive him through his design choices? Were you impressed or underwhelmed?

He shook his head, and walked over to where you and Lilah sat. “You ready?” he asked, taking note how you didn’t seem to hear him as he spoke to your best friend. She nodded and Changbin beckoned her to follow him.

As you were lost in your thoughts, staring at the rug, Lilah stood up and snapped you out of your thoughts. “Come on, spacey,” she joked and you got up, following her back and into the room. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized Changbin was the only artist in the room. It then dawned on you that Changbin was going to be doing her tattoo.

Lilah hopped up on the chair and pulled out her phone, connecting her head phones to the device and leaving one ear free. “Just the line work today, right?” Changbin asked as you stood awkwardly by the doorway. Your eyes raked over his form, taking in his outfit of the day.

He was wearing another fitted black tee tucked into black cargo pants with the cuffs of his pants tucked into his signature black combat boots. His hair had been straightened and styled, showing his forehead. He had a simple silver chain around his neck. It seemed that this was kind of his go to outfit.

Changbin turned slightly to glance your way before chuckling to himself. “You know you can sit down, right?” he asked, nodding at the chair near the chair Lilah was sitting on. You murmured a thanks and walked over to the chair, removing your jacket and sitting down

You glanced around the room, taking in the features. Changbin’s station was the only one in the room. The same floor ran through this room as the rest of the shop. The walls were the same off white with a custom made neon sign in the shape of a lotus hanging above the counter top that ran the length of the wall opposite the doorway.

The countertop was black quartz, the cabinets below the same off white as the walls with gold hardware. The chair Lilah sat on was a bright red leather with an adjustable headrest, arm rests, foot rest and heavy circular base. The entire chair looked fully adjustable and quite comfortable.

Changbin was looking over supplies sitting on a silver rolling tray. Various tools and equipment sat before him. He had a few small ink pods waiting to be used. You continued to scan the items, noticing he had two pairs of black gloves. ‘Two pairs?’ you wondered to yourself.

A stool, at least you thought it was a stool, sat near him. It looked like a small chair with a back and arm rests but the arm rests were backwards, sticking out from either side of the back of the stool. You looked away from the equipment to the artists as Changbin moved over to the counter and opened a drawer, grabbing a small clear bag of black rubber bands and shutting the drawer before he walked back over to Lilah. 

“If we can knock out the shading this time too, that’ll save you another session,” he said softly as he looked up. Lilah glanced over at you. “Do you mind if we stay a little longer?” she asked. Changbin turned to look at you as well. You shook your head. “No,” you said softly. “It’s your appointment,” you added with a smile towards your friend.

She beamed and nodded as Changbin turned away. “Alright,” he said moving to the side of the chair and you watched as he pushed a button and the leg rest started to raise, splitting in half. “Is the headrest in a good spot?” he asked as he finished raising the leg rest. Lilah nodded and scooted back into the seat and got comfortable. Changbin moved back over to the tray, using his toe to pull the stool closer.

You watched as he sat on it, the backrest in front of him. “You can move closer,” he commented towards you as he grabbed a glove and pulled it on before putting the other on. You realized your chair had wheels and you slowly scooted forward, moving closer to Lilah as Changbin prepared the tattoo gun.

You didn’t pay much attention to the process as it looked extremely complicated but it was still fascinating to watch. Changbin rolled closer, bringing his tray with him. You watched as he prepped Lilah’s skin, wiping the area with a cotton pad and taking a brand new disposable razor.

You watched with rapt attention as he prepared the area, shaving any hair and wiped the skin again. Once he was ready, Changbin grabbed the stencil he’d prepared and placed it on Lilah’s thigh. He pressed it firmly against her skin, making sure it stuck before peeling the paper away.

“Check the placement,” he said softly, waiting patiently as Lilah hopped up and walked over to the mirror to check it out. “Perfect,” she said excitedly, returning to the chair. Changbin nodded and moved into position. Once he got started, you watched him work.

He didn’t speak much as he worked, focusing instead on tracing the lines of the stencil. You’d been to a few of Lilah’s appointments before but most of the tattoos you’d witness her get were smaller. This was the largest piece you’d seen her get.

It was a large lion’s head, mouth open in a silent roar. You continued to watch silently as Changbin worked, finding the constant hum of the tattoo gun comforting. You glanced up to see Lilah had her eyes shut, mouthing to lyrics to whatever song she was listening to.

The song playing over the speaker of the shop’s intercom was a familiar one, you’d heard Lilah play from her playlist before. It was a heavy rock piece with a lot of drumming. It wasn’t your favorite kind of music but you didn’t mind it. You watched the tattoo take shape slowly, watching the way Changbin worked slowly but diligently. He clearly didn’t like to rush things, something you could appreciate.

After he’d managed to get half of the lines done, you looked up, hearing footsteps behind you. You turned back to Changbin. “Do you mind if I look around?” you asked softly. He glanced up briefly before shaking his head. “Just don’t get in anyone’s way,” he said with a slight smile.

You got up, leaving your jacket and purse in the chair and headed out of the doorway. Across from the room Changbin was set up in was a larger room with two stations in it. The one near the door was empty but the other station had Jeongguk, sitting in a similar stool as Changbin. He was working on an arm tattoo. The client was a young woman, maybe around Lilah’s age.

Her arm was resting on what you assumed was a separate arm rest, inside of the forearm exposed as Jeongguk colored in the line work of a tattoo you assumed he previously had done. His style was much different than Changbin’s but the tattoo was still just as intricate and beautiful.

It was an hourglass design inside a compass. You apologized softly when Jeongguk glanced at you. “I’m just curious to see what everyone else is doing,” you added. Jeongguk smiled and shook his head. “Don’t apologize,” he replied. “I don’t mind spectators,” he added with a chuckle.

After watching a couple more minutes, you left the room and peeked in to see the progress of Lilah’s tattoo. Changbin had almost completely finished the lines. You decided to check the other room. Paxton was no longer behind the counter and was instead coming back from the back of the shop.

You turned to look into the room Minho and Chris were in. Minho was still working on the same tattoo as before while Chris now had Hana in his seat. You leaned against the frame, offering a polite smile to Hana who surprisingly returned it. Chris glanced back and smiled widely.

“Lilah still getting her piece done?” he asked to which you nodded. “I’m just looking around. The boss said I could,” you added with an amused tone. Minho glanced up before going back to his work. You walked over, making sure to stay a reasonable distance away.

The tattoo he was working on was a traditional style dragon with clouds behind it. The lines were thicker than the lines on Lilah’s piece but you could tell it was intentional. “You spying on me?” Minho joked as he glanced back at you. Shaking your head, you moved a little closer. “Admiring your work,” you replied.

Minho chuckled and continued to work. “Next you’re going to tell me you want a tattoo,” he mused. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to nudge him as he was working and turned back to Hana and Chris. “You wanna watch?” Chris asked, looking over at you.

You glanced at Hana who shrugged. “I don’t mind,” she added. You walked over and stood beside them. “What kind of piercing is this?” you asked. “Bridge,” Hana replied simply. You pointed at the bridge of your nose and Hana nodded. You nodded and watched as Chris took a black marker and marked either side of the bridge of Hana’s nose.

“Is that where you want it?” he asked, handing her a handheld mirror. You watched as she tilted his head, checking the placement before handing the mirror back. “Yep,” she said simply. Chris nodded, grabbing an alcohol wipe and opening it. He carefully wiped the spot before picking up the needle.

“Alright, he said softly. “Close your eyes. Deep breath in.” You watched as he carefully lined the point of the needle with the mark. “Deep breath out.” As Hana breathed out, Chris pushed the needle in, carefully lining the point with the opposite side to make it even. Once the needle was all the way through, he turned to the tray, opening the package with the jewelry.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed as he removed one of the balls from the barbel and placed the end into the open end of the needle. You watched with morbid fascination as he pulled the needle through, guiding the barbel into the new hole. He removed the needle and grabbed the ball, screwing it on and making sure it was firm and tight.

“And done,” he said simply. Hana opened her eyes, taking the mirror from him to look at the new piece of jewelry as Chris started to clean up. “Be honest,” Hana said, turning to you. “How does it look?” You inspected it a little closer. “It looks really cool. It’s perfectly even, too,” you replied. Hana smiled and looked back into the mirror.

You excused yourself and headed back to Lilah, passing Paxton who glared at you once again. You still didn’t know what her issue with you was but you decided not to dwell on it as you entered Changbin’s station. He’d finished the lines and was now working on shading the lion head.

“How was your trip?” Lilah asked, eyes still shut. “Fascinating,” you answered as you sat back down. Changbin glanced up at you and smiled before returning to his work. “Jeongguk was working on an arm tattoo. It looked like some kind of mandala,” you explained to Lilah. “Minho was doing this really cool traditional dragon tattoo and Chris did a bridge piercing,” you relayed, feeling like a child telling your mother what happened in school that day.

The rest of the appointment passed quickly and soon Changbin was turning off the tattoo gun and setting it down. “Alright,” he said and Lilah opened her eyes. “Let me finish wiping it down and then I’ll cover it. You looked up from your phone, having zone out a while ago while playing some kind of coloring game on your phone. Changbin wrapped up quickly.

As he was finishing, Jeongguk peered in. “We’re ordering from the noodle place down the street,” he announced to Changbin. “You want your usual?” Changbin nodded without looking up as he applied vaseline to Lilah’s tattoo and started securing the plastic. “Get some of those beef dumplings,” he called out. He looked up at Lilah. “You know the drill. Bandage stays on for four days, no soaps except that antimicrobial I told you about, lotion for sensitive skin without dyes or perfumes, blah blah blah,” he added as he got up and started cleaning.

“If the bandage comes off before four days, come back in and I’ll replace it,” he added as Lilah walked over to the mirror, pulling out her phone to snap a picture of it. “And send me that picture,” he added as he noticed her taking another. “I want to add both it and the finished piece to my instagram.”

Lilah nodded and opened her messages to send him the picture. “So what do you think?” Lilah asked, showing off the new ink. You smiled, inspecting it. “I like it,” you replied. “The lines are really clean and the shading is really good. It’s gonna look pretty sick with the color,” you added.

“Does this mean you want to get something?” Lilah asked, wiggling her eyebrows, making you laugh loudly. “No,” you replied. “Absolutely not.” Changbin removed his gloves and tossed them in the trash bin, the snap of the gloves making you and Lilah look over at him.

He had a playful smile on his face. “Is my art not pretty enough for you?” he asked jokingly. You shook your head. “Your art is beautiful,” you replied, catching him off guard. “I just don’t have any desire to get a tattoo,” you explained. Changbin chuckled lightly. “I’m just messing with you,” he replied. “Tattoos aren’t for everyone,” he added. “I get that.”

Lilah thankfully punctuated the subject with her change in topic.

“How much do I owe you?”

You turned to gather your things as Lilah paid Changbin, thanking him once more. “Come back once you’re ready to add some color to that,” Changbin reminded her. She nodded and turned to you. “I’m gonna go see Chris really quick. I’ll meet you up front.” You nodded as you unplugged your phone from your charger and packed up.

As you were pulling on your coat, Changbin spoke up.

“If you ever change your mind,” he said, drawing your attention. “About getting a tattoo,” he added, noticing your confused expression. “I’d be happy to do any work you’d like done.” You smiled warmly. “Thanks,” you said softly, picking up your bag as he leaned against the counter behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d love to be your first,” he added, an amused undertone to his voice.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you met his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at you. Something in the playful smirk on his face. Before you could respond, you heard Lilah calling your name, pulling you from your trance.

“I gotta go,” you announced. Changbin nodded, the same smirk still on his face. “See you around, Y/N,” he said softly and you turned away, forcing yourself to walk out of the room and towards the front of the shop where Lilah was waiting.

You followed her out onto the sidewalk, Chris locking the door behind the two of you as they set about closing the shop. “Are you hungry?” Lilah asked, linking her arm with yours. You nodded slowly, still mulling over Changbin’s words and playful banter. “Yeah,” you finally replied as Lilah steered you in the direction of the town square. “Let’s get some dinner,” you added.

“Good,” Lilah said excitedly. “Cause I’m starving.”

ⓘ If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging as it helps me out more than you know. All graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

[coffeefiction]

Megatron's "Not So Interesting' Life

So, I have this thought of an au for a while, where the war never happened but the world is littered with anomalies, entities and all that jazz, right? And Megatron, is just a normal mech, with a normal life, being friends with "normal" people and finding their newly crowned Prime off. Oh! He also gets these cool abilities that I have yet to properly set down-

If you have any ideas on what I should do with this story! Or questions! Let me know! Have fun!

_______________________

Megatron knows that he special he has always  known this. How could he not? From a young age, he could instinctively distinguish between a walking glitch of a fake and an actual mecha. It was as if his optics had been calibrated to detect the unseen threads of the universe. Shadows danced at the edges of his vision, and he always had the gnawing sense that something lurked just beyond his peripheral awareness. Not that he cared. In fact, he barely gave it a second thought.

Megatron has always known that he has abilities, that he has a gift. He knew this. He could see what others couldn’t. Yet, for the longest time, he refused to acknowledge it, treating it as little more than an inconvenient quirk. That was, until he befriended a few of those shadowy entities that liked to pass themselves off as part of the mortal world. He never really minded—they weren’t doing him any harm, again, he barely cared.

They are attracted to Megatron's gift, I mean, who wouldn't? Having the ability to sniff out someone's bull is pretty helpful.

You see, Megatron grew up in Kaon, and growing up in Kaon, which was and is a place dripping with superstition, Megatron had heard his share of horror stories: the dark, Unicron’s spawns, Primus’ Youngs, and the whispers of what prowled in the shadows. These tales were used to scare younglings into good behavior.

Megatron himself had his fair share of those stories, although, some of the elders do love to exaggerate those stories.

He likes it, not because it makes it creepy. He didn’t find them scary—he found them funny, mostly because of his friends. For reasons he still couldn’t quite fathom, his closest companions growing up were a spark eater, a ghoul, and a demon. Hearing their outrage over the inaccuracies in these tales was endlessly entertaining.

“You can’t eat a spark like that,” Starscream, the spark eater, would hiss in annoyance whenever he hears these ridiculous stories  . “Why do they always describe it like I’m slurping energon soup? There’s nuance!”

“Ghouls: do not hide under berths: waiting to snatch younglings” deadpanned Soundwave, the ghoul, glaring at Megatron. “Soundwave: not a sterotype: Stories; exaggerated”

And Shockwave, the demon of the group would just simply twitch in annoyance.

And unlike Iacon, who rarely has anything to do with superstitions and such beliefs were dismissed as primitive nonsense. (or as media likes to portray it). Kaon has plenty, it thrived on superstition, unlike Iacon,  If Kaon had a museum for the supernatural, it would probably need its own skyscraper.

Megatron can attest to it, as stated before, he is friends with some of the horrifying entities that the tales always tell. Not only that, He’d had his share of encounters with those dark forces, not all of them pleasant. Most of the time, it ended in one of three ways: a fight, a frantic escape, or an unsettling brush with death. The only reason Megatron was still functioning was thanks to his friends, who often bailed him out of tight spots to save his arf.

Yet despite all of this, Megatron barely cares.

He doesn't do much, than work at his boring office job, visit his friends and reassure them that he is well, one of the literally lives in Vos! But at least his trip is always payed, courtesy to his friend. Outside of that? His life is completely barren and uneventful.

That is, until he met the new Prime that goes by the name Optimus Prime. Not, met met him, more like saw him in the holos and the streets during the coronation parade. He didn't wanna be there to be honest, but Starscream wanted to be there, he was in town for royal duties as the Prince of Vos and he wanted to Megatron to hang out with him, that isn't the mech's lonely apartment or Soundwave's house, or Shockwave's lab.

And Megatron, is a friend, so Megatron decided to go with Starscream, begrudgingly of course. 

When Megatron first laid his optics on the New Prime, he immediately sensed something was off, and he can tell that Starscream noticed too, yet he seem calm, which was odd. Normally, Starscream would have been on high alert, his predatory instincts kicking in. But this time? He wasn’t reacting defensively. That wasn’t exactly a good sign, isn't a bad one either.

Spark eaters tend to have heightened senses, they have the ability to sniff out their pray, and they have the ability to semi manipulate the perception of others, making it easy for them to blend in. If Starscream wasn’t threatened, that meant whatever this “off” thing was, it wasn’t something Starscream recognized as dangerous—or perhaps it was something he couldn’t categorize at all.

Megatron looks at the Prime, observing him closely. Their newly crowned Prime seems nice, he speaks very confidently yet softly, a leader with stern yet does not weild his fist to cage those around him. He spoke to the crowd with warmth, crouched to address younglings optic-to-optic, and carried himself with an air of calm authority.

Megatron….he knows there is something wrong, something off with the Prime. Megatron could feel it, like static in his circuits. He wanted to dig deeper, to pull at the threads of this mystery. But before he could, Starscream interrupted.

Megatron has to put those thoughts into a file and store it for later to entertain his friend. A bored Starscream always never ends well.

Soundwave can attest to that.

So Megatron talks to Starscream as they watch the parade from the distance in the balcony of Starscream's  fancy hotel. They watch as the Prime mingle with the civilian, as he interacts with the younglings with such care.

“Ugh. Look at that pompous mech!” Starscream sneered, slumping dramatically in his chair.

Megatron arched an optic ridge. “What are you talking about? He seems fine.”

“Fine? Look at him, so pristine, so proper!” Starscream gestured wildly at the balcony railing. “He’s too sweet. It’s disgusting. He’s practically dripping syrup on those younglings!” 

"Shouldn't I be the one making complaints here? I'm the one who's gonna get affected if his rule is slag" Megatron quipped dryly, already dreading the new rules and laws that will be set if this Prime is like the other ones before him.

“Oh, please.” Starscream waved him off. “If it were up to you, you’d just brood in silence and not say a word.”

“I would, actually,” Megatron muttered. “Besides, you’re the one verbally attacking your own kind right now.” He pointed out, wanting to immediately change the topic, for all that is stands in this world, Starscream is right, he would probably just brood in silence, rules kept him safe after all.

Starscream makes a disgruntled noise. "That thing down there, is far from being my kin."

Megatron grows confuse, he looks at Starscream. "What do you mean?"

“My own kind?” Starscream’s wings twitched irritably as he leaned back in his chair. “That thing down there is not my kin.”

That got Megatron’s attention. He turned to Starscream, optics narrowing. “What do you mean?”

Starscream huffed, clearly annoyed he had to explain. “Look at him! He’s too…off. Too stiff to be a spark eater, too mellow to be a ghoul. His frame doesn’t match anything I recognize. And his voice?” Starscream shuddered theatrically. “It’s wrong. It’s too nice. No one’s voice is that…perfect.”

Megatron frowned, glancing back at the Prime. Now that Starscream mentioned it, he can see more of the odd things about him. The balance of his movements, the precision of his words, the faint flicker of something beneath the surface—it didn’t quite add up.

Huh… Yeah, he can kinda see that now.

[firstdeerwife]

C.1

𝓓𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂

New Orleans.

The city buzzed with the energy of a new era, where jazz music flowed through the cobbled streets and electric lights shone like stars on the humid southern nights.

In the heart of this bustling city, an exclusive event gathered the elite of society in an elegant mansion with white columns and well-tended gardens.

_____ O’Connor moved through the room with the grace of someone trained for such occasions since birth.

Her pale blue silk dress, fitted at the waist and falling in soft folds to the floor, enhanced her slender figure.

Her lips, painted a deep red, curved into a cordial smile as she greeted the guests, but there was a trace of melancholy in her eyes.

Beside her, Charles Beauregard, her fiancé, a man of distinguished bearing and impeccable manners, never stopped paying attention to her.

Charles was everything one could expect from a gentleman: generous, polite, and deeply in love with _____.

But she, while appreciating him as a friend, did not feel the same.

Her heart, always so controlled, rebelled against the idea of a loveless marriage, a union sealed by her parents' and society's expectations.

"_____, dear, would you like another glass of champagne?"

Charles asked, offering her the glass with a warm smile.

"Thank you, Charles."

She replied, taking the glass but not drinking.

"You’re very kind."

Charles was aware of the distance _____ maintained, but he never stopped trying to win her affection.

He knew she was not in love with him, but he believed that, in time, his persistent kindness and devotion would win her heart.

_____, however, knew that day would never come.

The soft music and murmured conversations filled the room when _____'s attention was drawn to a figure at the entrance.

The master of ceremonies had just announced the arrival of a special guest, and as she turned, _____ saw him.

Tall, with dark hair and dressed in an impeccable tuxedo, the man exuded a charisma that seemed to draw all eyes toward him.

He was known as one of the most famous radio announcers in the country, though few knew his face in person.

"_____, I want to introduce you to someone."

Charles said, noticing her gaze and gently taking her arm.

"He is an acquaintance of mine, and I’m sure you’ll like him."

The man approached, and as he did, _____ felt a strange tingling at the nape of her neck.

There was something about him that felt oddly familiar, though she couldn’t pinpoint why.

"_____, this is Alastor Hartfelt."

Charles said, smiling as he made the introductions.

"Alastor, I present to you my fiancée, _____ O’Connor."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss O’Connor."

Alastor declared, taking her hand and lightly kissing the back.

His dark, intense eyes met hers, and for a moment, it seemed as if time stood still.

_____ smiled, trying to decipher the strange feeling of having seen him before.

Maybe at another gala.

She thought.

Or perhaps he just has a familiar face.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Hartfelt."

She responded with calculated courtesy, though her mind continued to wander.

Later, as the orchestra began to play a waltz, Charles, ever attentive, offered his hand to _____ to dance.

However, before she could accept, Alastor intervened softly.

"Charles, if you’ll permit me."

He said with a charming smile.

"I would very much like to dance with your fiancée."

"Of course, only if Miss O’Connor agrees."

_____ was surprised by the request and the slight boldness of Alastor, looking at Charles, who nodded with a slight smile.

"Certainly."

She replied, accepting Alastor’s hand.

As they twirled across the dance floor, surrounded by the opulence of the room and the enveloping music, Alastor broke the silence with a soft but firm voice.

"Is this your first time at an event like this, _____?"

He asked, using her first name, which surprised her slightly.

"No, I’ve attended many of these events."

She replied, somewhat disconcerted by the familiarity in his tone.

"But... I don’t recall seeing you at any of them."

Alastor smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and guided her in a smooth turn before responding.

"I’m good at blending in, though that’s not what I usually do in my work. Sometimes, it’s better to observe from the shadows."

_____ felt a slight shiver at his words, as if there was something more hidden in them. However, she decided to play along.

"A famous announcer who prefers the shadows. It’s an interesting combination."

She declared, keeping her gaze fixed on his.

"Interesting is a word that could describe many things tonight."

He responded, leaning slightly toward her as he spoke.

"For instance, this conversation... and this dance."

_____ felt her heart quicken slightly at the intensity in his voice.

She wasn’t sure if it was the way he looked at her or the words he seemed to choose so carefully, but she couldn’t deny there was something about him that attracted her in a way she didn’t fully understand.

"You seem like someone who appreciates the unusual, Alastor."

She declared, trying to stay firm in the exchange.

"And you seem like someone who, despite being surrounded by luxury and attention, seeks something more."

He replied, with a precision that left her momentarily speechless.

_____ couldn’t help a brief laugh, almost as a nervous reaction.

"What makes you think that?"

She asked, intrigued by his perception.

Alastor looked into her eyes, pausing for a moment in the rhythm of the dance, as if carefully considering his response.

"Sometimes, you can see in a person’s eyes when their heart yearns for something more... something they haven’t yet found."

_____ felt a lump in her throat at the truth in his words.

Before she could respond, the music began to soften, signaling the end of the dance.

Alastor, aware of this, leaned a bit closer to her.

"I hope this isn’t our last dance, _____."

He said in a whisper.

Before she could reply, the music ceased, and Alastor led her back to Charles with the same elegance with which he had started the dance.

_____ felt oddly disoriented, as if the brief conversation and dance had stirred something within her.

She watched Alastor as he walked away, feeling that, in some way, their encounter had not been a mere coincidence.

[xxanaduwrites]

much ado about nothing, major

ii. bluell & blue skies

the main hub

pairing: john “bucky” egan x (ofc) maude “blue” bluell

warnings: this story will contain mature themes, descriptions of injury, blood, sexual content, swearing, as well as, physical and mental illness. proceed with caution.

— ii. some inappro-pro jokes courtesy of curt & mentions of beating a dude up, that’s all i got folks !

word count: 5.5k

there must be something or nothing at all.

The sound of clinking glasses, chattering men, giggling women, and tapping feet amongst the beat of swinging jazz filled the Officer’s Club and the ears of one Maude Bluell at roughly around 2100 hours.

The newly polished nurse of Thorpe Abbot’s infirmary leaned rather uncomfortably against a nearby wall with her fellow colleagues observing the function. Now changed out of her more suitable work attire, she stiffened like a board in the confines of her neatly pressed Red Cross issued uniform. Already becoming rather used to her usual loose white ward dress and cap, the fitted material of the more proper wear seemed foreign to her. Too foreign to be a uniform worn just a week prior, in route for base transfer.

The more she spent in the infirmary, the more time was proving itself to be heavier conceptually speaking and lighter actuality speaking. The truth of the matter was that Nurse Bluell witnessed enough loss in one week that could very well add up to more than whole lifetime.

So maybe — just maybe the Dirty Shirley Q was attempting to shove into Maude’s hand — wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “‘S not all that bad, Blue. Just a cherry little thing with a pinch of alc. ‘S like sucking up straight candy.” Susie slurred and the bright red liquid swayed like a wave in a storm trapped in glass.

“Not everyone wants to rot out their teeth and stain their tongues red like you, Q.” Lottie pointed out and grimaced at the concoction with a sweet cherry on top. To prove her point further, the blonde took a sip of her less colorful drink — a simple gin and tonic.

If the concept of “two sides of the same coin” could be defined by people, Maude was certain Lottie and Q were the perfect definition.

It became quite apparent early on that Lottie upheld a more serious and resolved persona, taste aligning simplistic and rather blander than her bubbly and eccentric colleague Q who flourished in a rather colorful nature.

In an odd way, even though the two could get into the occasional spat over their differences, they overall leveled each other out in a way where Blue wasn’t sure where she exactly fit in. How she found fit into such an established dynamic.

“And not everyone wants to deny every name on their dance card, but here you are,” She countered, clearly commenting on something Maude was unfamiliar with. Something that spiked a nerve in Lottie. The red headed nurse noticed the newbie's confusion drawing prominently in her features. “Lots has a look but no touch policy,” She explained, the drink flailing about even more dangerously as she exasperated, enough for Maude to accept this drink from her without a word.

Crossing her arms over her chest, the all work, no play blonde ignored her former colleague and turned to her new one. “It’s not entirely true. You see, I look at it this way. We touch men all day long –” Sue promptly cut Lottie off with a well timed snort, and Lottie sighed but continued on, “rotating between check-ups, wrapping wound after wound, and seeing them in their most vulnerable states…I just – I don’t know, something about it doesn’t sit right with me,” she shrugged nonchalantly, not knowing that her words laid heavily on Maude’s own chest.

“But, there’s no denying that the girl lovesssss to look!” Sue chirped in, nudging her friend’s shoulder who’s mischievous grin was hidden behind the rim of her gin and tonic. “Speaking of, has anyone caught your eye yet, Blue? See anything you like?” She mused, fishing for the hot gossip as she liked to do.

Had anyone caught her eye? Well a very certain major who had waltzed his way into the infirmary just this morning had, but could she admit such a thing when she was trying to convince herself otherwise?

“Oh I – I dunno,” Maude finally spoke up and blushed madly, cheeks promptly dusting pink.

She suddenly felt grateful for the Dirty Shirley and took a sip, the tart yet sweet mixture coating her tongue in a delightful way. The condensation of the glass felt cool against her now heated skin, and she prayed it would cool down her unease in the current conversation. If not, at least she could simply blame it on the drink. Not that she knew very well what it was like for herself. She wasn’t much of a drinker to begin with, but she had been around enough functions with family and friends alike to know how flushed face one could get on a glass or two – worse with a few more added into the mix.

“Give the girl some time. She just got here after all and we haven’t given her a run down yet on who’s who.” She noted. “Wait, have we?” She asked, turning to Blue for confirmation to which she shook her head in a delcarative no. “Oh then, this’ll be a thrill. Perfect timing then, ain’t it Sue.”

“Absolutely! You’re in good hands Maude Bluell. Can’t go wrong with Lots full boring government names in conjunction with my fun nicknames for the full effect.” Sue added.

“It’s not boring, it’s official and makes our job a whole lot easier.” Lottie reasoned. “At least I can identify each pilot by their title and rank efficiently with no hiccups on their health charts.”

“Hey! It was just one time, and in my defense it’s not my fault that two Majors decided to have the same goddamn nickname, and it’s no help when Croz only refers to them as the “two Buckys” in conversation.”

“Two Buckys’?” Maude questioned, rather perplexed.

“Yes, see the blonde over there. Strong cheekbones. Full lips. Bright blue eyes,” Lottie — as loud as Maude could hear over the blaring music and as subtly as she could, a good two gin and tonics in — pointed to the definition of such a man seated right in front of the Officer’s band.

Maude followed her eye and nodded in confirmation.

“That’s Major Gale Cleven,” She said in her left ear.

And on her right side Sue added in, “Buck, or in other words — if you couldn’t tell — the man Lots was fawning for before she found out he’s got a girl back home.”

Lottie shot her a look.

“What? Made it real obvious with those detailed descriptors. I’m simply stating facts.” Sue regarded Lottie while fetchinf the cherry out of her own Dirty Shirley “Anyways, Name’s Marge. Short for Marjorie. High School sweethearts from Wyoming or something like that.

Major Gale “Buck” Cleven — Maude repeated over in her head, trying to commit it to memory.

“Couldn’t help it. He’s a real gentleman. Quite reserved but extremely smart. Doesn’t drink. Doesn’t smoke. Doesn’t gamble. Doesn’t dance with a single girl. It intrigued me.” Lottie concluded and then continued on, “next to him, to the right is Major John Egan.” Lottie trained Maude’s gaze just where she wanted her and just where Maude herself had not expected to be.

Major John Egan. Major Egan. The man Lieutenant Payne had mentioned in his demotion and replacement from today’s mission. The man who walked right into the infirmary at 0900 hours and churned something deep inside her, yet to be deciphered.

Out of his flying gear and signature sheepskin jacket, she took in the sight of Major Egan in his more formally pressed uniform, and her breath hitched. There was no denying how handsome he looked all cleaned up, but she wouldn’t make that known to them. Not now and especially not here.

“That’s Bucky.” Q was back in her right ear, and Maude wondered if this is what it felt to have an angel and a devil on your shoulders, whispering different things. “Confusing, aye?”

“Bucky,” she repeated aloud, a small laugh escaping the nurse as she twirled the straw around in her drink. “So it’s Buck and Bucky then, not the Buckys.”

“Technically, yes.” Lottie nodded.

“Quite redundant.”

“Precisely, but for good reason I suppose. Sue can explain that one further.”

“Oh yes!” She lit up. “So apparently, Major Egan has always been known as Bucky back home and when he first saw Major Cleven, well he couldn’t get over how much he looked like some fella named Buck from Manitowoc, Wisconsin — also his home — and they’ve been stuck like glue ever since. All in good word from Curt of course who filled me in on all this business.”

“Right…and oh! Over here is Captain Bernard Demarco.”

“Benny.” Sue cut in again.

“He’s the one that has that sweet pup Meatball running around, and….” Lottie kept the flow going, canning the conversation on the redundant nature of the Buckys.

Maude tried her best to stay attentive, taking in the passing faces and attaching them to their respected names, yet she couldn’t help but draw her gaze back to Major Egan who’s long fingers were tapping against the arms of the chair he occupied to the beat of smooth jazz as he spoke to his friend next to him. She attuned her bouncing stare to the drink starting to take effect in her system, but also to her remembrance of why she truly pulled up to the function — to find Lieutenant Crosby and properly congratulate him on his promotion.

Yet, through the whisking crowd of people, the target of her mission became indetectable.

At some point Katherine “Tatty” Spaatz, daughter of Lieutenant Carl Spaatz, and Helen — both Red Cross volunteers for the Clubmobile circling the Eighth Air Force’ First Air Division — joined in on the conversation, greeting the nurses, and meeting the new addition to their circuit.

Tatty recounted stories to Lottie of countless pilots trying to get in her good graces just to secure a promotion from her father. It never worked, while Helen continued to help Sue familiarize Maude with the crew on base. Helen was in the middle of trying to point out another pilot to the nurse when the band started playing a new song — a popular song that not only Sue knew very well, but Maude too. Blue Skies by Irving Berlin. Maude hummed it to herself the past week any chance she got. Any time she was feeling rather blue so to speak — ironically enough. And Sue — well Sue wasn’t one not to be observant.

“Blue!” She interrupted Helen’s tagging game by latching onto Maude’s arm. “It’s your song.” She proposed excitedly.

Maude, taken aback for just a moment, collected herself enough to correct the notion and Helen’s sudden raised brow. “Oh — I — ‘S not my song. I just like it.” She shrugged.

“But your Bluell. Blue. Blue Skies!” Q slurred shirly as ever. “Come on Blue. Sing for us.”

“Oh no I — I don’t sing,” The shy nurse mumbled out, not lying so to speak but not telling the truth either. Sure, Bluell sang, but only when she was alone. When no one else was present. When she had a good sense of privacy. Humming was one thing, but singing no — singing was a whole other ball game.

“‘S not true. I’ve heard you.” She assured, making escaping this proposition even more impossible.

Maude gasped. “When?”

“Just the other day. When you were out hanging the sheets up on the line,” the red head recalled, not giving up by any means.

As a newbie of sorts, Maude was appointed to hang up the freshly washed sheets outside to dry before the beds were made back up — neat and clean in preparation for the inevitable return of injured pilots. Q usually came out with a basket to collect the dry ones, and on one particular day, she had caught the nurse there — singing away in what she assumed to be a rather private area. Instead of making herself known, Q took a moment to listen to the newbie's voice, connecting to what she could only imagine to be what fluffy clouds would sound like if you could hear them in one’s ears, if clouds could in fact sit in such a way — soft and airy on a summer’s sunny day.

“My, well I —I” Embarrassment dusted Maude’s features as she found herself at loss for words in being discovered.

“Yes, she has quite the voice!” Lottie suddenly overheard the conversation, added in, piquing the interest of the Clubmobile girls.

Maude silently wondered if her colleagues and newfound friends were really her friends at all.

“Oh! Now I must know. Would you sing for us?” Tatty asked, absolutely intrigued by this information and ever-so slightly tipsy herself.

“I – I dunno,” Maude replied shyly, her fingers reaching up to the edge of her collar, tugging the material away from her now heated skin.

“It would boost morale,” Helen reasoned, actually considering the state of their boys and how music seemed to ease their souls.

Especially one Major John Egan who, little to Maude’s current attention, was absolutely fizzing with delight just across the way.

“Do you know what this is missing?” The Major probed suddenly to the blonde Lottie described in heavy detail only moments prior.

Buck, knowing his friend and exactly what he would be up to whenever music was involved did not hesitate in replying. “Nothing.”

“Vocals.” John announced, totally disregarding his friend’s input on the matter.

With a sigh, Gale reiterated, “no, it’s not.”

“I’m gonna sing.” John proposed, as if it was not already obvious enough to Gale.

Already ten steps ahead of his antsy friend, Gale’s reflexes proved to be on par and he eased John back down in his seat just as fast. In complete conjunction as one Nurse Maude Bluell was being eased herself. Right in front of the band and the lone microphone propped on a stand next to the conductor. A conductor who found himself rather confused with the sudden presence as well as the rest of the club when she nervously tapped it with a cherry red nail, freshly done up by Q. A necessity as the red head liked to say in her chain of convincing for the night. A chain that Maude had found herself unmistakably tied to for the rest of the evening with a reasoning of Biddick’s MIA on center stage.

“Looks like a lady has beat you to it.” Gale hummed in complete amusement. An amusement not reciprocated by his friend, slouched in defeat with his arms crossed over his chest in utter disappointment.

The nurse cleared her throat suddenly, trying to stifle her nerves and block out the faces that were drawn to her every move. So much so that she even had one Major John Egan attuned, eyes glued to her like a hawk catching their prey.

A twinge of familiarity washed over him as he took in the young woman with full red lips and pinned up hair, a complete contradiction to the nurse he saw in scrubs just a few hours prior attending to Lieutenant Joseph Payne. Yet, what captivated him, what really set in that sense of recognition were her eyes. Those hazy green eyes that had almost rendered him speechless in completing his promotional tasks for Croz.

“B—Blue Ski —“ the raven haired woman’s vocal chords betrayed her rather quickly leading the men — with a lack of better judgment enraptured with booze filled minds — to laugh at her mishap.

“Learn your place sweetheart!” Someone hollered far away. Too far away for Bucky to attach a face to voice so to speak, but close enough that he could make out every single syllable, every single word clustered in a sentence that made his blood boil tenfold.

He was no singer himself — hell he couldn’t carry a note for the life of him, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that singing — singing your heart out was freeing. It was fun. It was a way to forget the truth of it all. The truth of this reality, adhered to a war wrapped in violence and a future of uncertainty. A future only men lucky enough could promise.

Instead of jumping out of his seat, finding the man, and beating him to a pulp like he really wanted to for speaking to a lady in such a disrespectful manner — he decided on a different approach. An approach that would ease the clear embarrassment of the pretty raven haired nurse in front of him.

“Jack,” he whispered over to the pilot on his left, cringing at the scene. “should I sing?” He asked him, hoping to gain a better sense of backup clearly not tuned to his level headed friend.

To Bucky’s misfortune, Jack was with Buck on this one. “No.”

He tried again, this time with another colleague adjacent to buck. “Should I sing?” He motioned again.

And again. “No. You’ll just make it worse.”

John sighed. “Alright, you’re right. You're right.” He feigned a nod in agreement, putting on a facade that did not last long enough to see the light. Looking back at the nervous nurse caged in laughter of no good nature, John knew there was no shot in hell he’d leave her there imprisoned. Whatever bit of jealousy had set him off as he saw her hit the stage of sorts was long gone.

So, he hyped himself up, readying himself to take flight just as he did every time in a B-17, and tapped his fingers against the wooden edges of his chair. Letting out a breath, he finally stood up and danced his way over to the mic, leading Gale to send him a classic knowing glance of his that was reserved to him alone anytime he whipped up an antic.

“It’s my song, Buck!” He reasoned to his best friend just before turning around and coming face to face with the green eyed goddess.

Completely surprised, Maude nearly gasped at the sudden intrusion but collected herself enough to follow his gaze as he fitted himself behind her.

“May I?” The Major whispered against her ear, his arm brushing against her hip as he reached for the microphone in front of her.

His touch proved to be magnetic — electric even, and it shot something within her enough to keep upright and reply ever-so carefully. “My yes. Of — Of course, Major.” She went to step out of the way, but a warm and gentle hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her up against John’s side.

She could have melted then in his embrace, fitted so perfectly next to him as he grasped the mic and stared down at her as he began to sing….

Never saw the sun shining so bright

Never saw things going so right

Noticing the days hurrying by

And then, just as she was starting to feel comfortable being serenaded, but considering the prospects of a duet, Major Egan’s hand flexed at her side, signaling the tilt of the mic close enough in her direction that they could sing together.

Yet, to her surprise he let her have her moment alone.

When you’re in love. My how they fly.

And the lines came out clear — clearer than she could ever imagine, but that was all she would contribute. She’d let the Major take the reins on the rest of the song with a simple nod of encouragement.

Blue days

All of them gone

Nothing but blue skies

From now on

With a final flourish, he dipped the young nurse. Her heart dropped to her stomach at the sudden movement, sending shock waves throughout her whole body in a reminiscent way. One that reminded her of her childhood. It brought back memories of the very first time she ever rode the Coney Island Cyclone with her father. The creeks of the wooden structure probed nervous jitters as the roller coaster went up, up, up — only to bring sweet relief as the cars swooshed down, down, down. And down she was now with Major Egan’s charming features in her direct line of sight. Pretty pearly whites, deep blue eyes, and large warm hands leaving her breathless yet grounded in his embrace.

If it wasn’t for the cheers that rounded out amongst the ladies and the hardy laughs that echoed from the men, the Major and nurse could have very well been locked in their own world — where it was just the two of them, alone. But they weren’t alone. They were surrounded by a bubbly crowd of fellow airmen and red cross members alike who were now making their way to the floor to dance out their newfound excitement.

Yet, the caging of it all felt rather intimate to Maude — who was now being pulled right back up by Major Egan. With a bit of a stumble and a trip of a heel, he caught her before she could trip — a strong arm wrapping around her lower back, urging her upright like a straight torpedo.

Her cheeks reddened ripper than the deep shade of lipstick coating her lips as her hand subconsciously found itself situated on Egan’s chest. Palm fizzing against the eloquent beat of his heart.

“Hi,” he mused, eyes sparking in delight as he took in the small frame of the nurse in front of him — her lack of height noticeable at this newfound proximity.

His prominent figure towered above her, forcing her to crane her neck back and head upward to look him in the eye. It wasn’t surprising. Truly it wasn’t. His stature became apparent the moment she first saw him. But now, standing right in front of him, practically caged over his towering presence was intimidating. “H-Hi.” She managed out and then tumbled in a frantic frenzy. “Bucky — I mean J— Major.” She sighed in an effort to compose herself and settled on, “Major Egan.”

Maude’s fumble did not fail to surprise the Major. It struck a pitch of laughter out of him instantly.

A pitch that Maude didn’t catch as a reaction to his sudden charm of her. “My apologies.”

So John, well he would swing until he got a home run. “No need to fret, doll.” He reassured her. “‘M not a formalities type anyways. Nothing good comes out of being a tyrant in team sports.”

“You’re an athlete then?” Maude questioned, trying to annunciate her words as loud as possible considering the boisterous music in the room.

Bucky chortled and matched her. “Far from that. Much more enjoy being an observer. A listener. More of a reader nowadays to keep up with the score.”

“Understandable.” She nodded, tilting her head ever-so subtly to get a better reading of him. “And what team has the pleasure of your devotion, Major?”

“Bucky. Please. Call me Bucky.” He corrected her. “And baseball. The New York Yankees,” he replied and her eyes alit with a familiarity John picked up on without fail. “You like the Yanks, doll?”

“Yes — well no. I mean being from Brooklyn it’s only customary for me to be a Dodgers fan. But you — you’re not a New Yorker, so I’ve heard.”

“That’s right. You’re fairly acquainted with me, ain’t yuh? Yet, I can’t recall the same for you. No shot in hell would I ever forget a gal quite as pretty as you.”

“That’s rather kind of you, Maj — Bucky.”

“Got a name, doll? A nickname even? Rank?”

“Maude. Maude Rue Bluell. American Red Cross Nurse for the 100th bomb group. Just touched down last week. But, I’ve found myself replying to the call of Blue. Quite redundant in name. I know. Yet, I have a bit of suspicion that it’s more complimentary of my mood as of late,” she revealed, more than she intended. More than she even expected. Usually — in matters such as this one — she’d find herself to be rather shy and timid. Especially in the presence of such a devily handsome man as Major Egan himself.

But something — something in the way he spoke to her was easing. His teamwork mantra proved to be a strong suit in his personality. She could tell he was a good leader just by his attitude and stance — equalizing himself against a woman in such an untraditional light. Subconsciously, it made Maude more drawn to the young man in uniform.

The edge of his lip curved up in a smirk. “Blue, huh?”

Bluell only had a second to nod in confirmation before the Major grabbed her hand, spinning her in a circle in accordance to the music. He pulled her back just as fast, her back aligning perfectly against his broad solid chest. A strong arm wrapped around her stomach, slender fingers taking shelter against her hip.

He leaned over then, the combination of his lips and mustache tickling the delicate skin of her ear quickened the pace of her heart. “Seems I’ve found myself my very own Blue Sky then,” he whispered.

She let out a laugh. A real genuine one. Lips perking up in a sweet smile.

“Smooth, yeah?” He mused, his lips still close enough to brush a smile against her ear a second time and his voice still low yet husky enough to warm up her insides.

“Mhm,” she hummed simply, rolling her emerald eyes playfully in an attempt to conceal her affections. “Out of the park.” She mused, swaying back and forth in his hold.

“That’a girl!” He chirped as she spun out of his hold.

Their hands puzzled right back together instantly, feet tapping to the beat as they danced with the rest of the pairings on the floor. There they were, forgetting all their troubles in the heat of the party. Just as the other girls intended. Just as John intended. Maybe for once, Maude could admit that the Club was the best medicine for her troubles, even if it would wear off come morning.

John and Maude danced well off into the night, until the nurse’s heels left blisters on her soles and a sheen of sweat dusted the curls on Bucky’s forehead. The Major was one to take notice, channeling his inner gentleman as he excused himself to fetch the two of them refreshments from the bar.

Alone, she moved out of the boisterous crowd to meet the girls but stopped short once she noticed Lieutenant James Douglas approaching them.

Meanwhile, John was situated at the bar next to Buck when a call came through for them. “Buck. Egan”

“Sir.” Buck replied as John took a swig of his drink, waiting patiently for Maude’s to be fixed up.

“From who?” Bucky asked intrigued.

“Operator, I have Majors Cleven and Egan…” Red murmured before passing the phone to Buck.

Buck took it with ease, a chorus of his name ringing out of the speaker from a far too familiar New York accent. “Yup.”

“Ayeeee Buck is that you?” Lieutenant Biddick exclaimed on the line just as John was leaning over to listen in on the conversation.

“Curt.” Buck confirmed, leading John to follow suit an octave louder in a Bucky like fashion.

“Curt!” John banged his fist on the table, pleased to know Curt had made it.

Susie being nosey as she tended to be, did not fail to excuse herself from the flirting attempts of Douglas on Helen. She whipped across the floor in an instant, locking a careful arm around Bluell, dragging her to the bar with her. “It’s Curt!” She chirped, beaming from ear to ear.

“Buck! Buck!” Curt repeated as the girls found themselves at the bar. Q fitting herself right next to Gale on his right – Maude sandwiched between her and Red.

“Yeah, it’s Buck and John. Susie’s here too. Where’d you end up?” Gale spoke for the two of them.

“Ughhhh, that’s a very very good question, but we’re safe and sound ‘er.” Curt replied amidst his own boisterous surroundings. He pulled the phone away for a moment to ask, “Hey! Aye, wh – where am I?”

“Where are ya?” Someone asked far away. Too far away for John or the girls to grasp, but close enough for Gale to catch the tail end of.

“Where am I?” Curt repeated.

“In the devil’s dope son!”

“Ugh–ah we made a wee bit of a mess up ‘er.” Curt explained. “Well – the people are really swell and they’re looking after us. It turns out they don’t like the English much either, but they like me because I’m Irish!”

Again muffled voices took over. “You’re not Irish.”

“I’M IRISH!” Curt yelled, brushing smiles across the faces of Buck, Bucky, and the girls.

“No you’re not.”

“Hey, my family's Irish.” He was still going on, the group trying their hardest not to burst out in laughter. “I told ya I’m an American but anyways… Buck – hold on, hold on.” A rustling sound took over for a moment as Curt resituated himself. “Ugh, I wanted to call you and to let Sue know I’m ‘ight but…Thank you Buck…Thank both of you for saving our asses. I mean it.”

“Yeah, well alright you just get back here soon, Curt.” Buck replied.

“We miss you Curt. We’re glad you’re still with us!” John yelled.

“He’s okay. He’s really okay!” Susie bit back a smile.

“He’s quite alright.” Maude assured, resting a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Eh – John said he misses his little spoon.” Buck joked and Sue laughed.

“Heyyyy I’m the big spoon ‘er remember?” Curt chided. “Just ask my Sue. Where’s my Sue?” He asked, unraveling the lollipop she supplied him earlier.

“It’s gonna be cold tonight Curt!” John added.

Curt’s voice became muffled as he shoved the petite treat in his mouth.. “Gotta tell ‘er I’m sucking ‘er cherry rye now.”

“W–What?” Buck’s eyes widened up in surprise and embarrassment at the rather inappropriate and unexpected joke.

John did not fail to miss the twist of Gale’s features. He picked up on it rather quickly, his interest peeking instantly. “What he say? What he say?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “You know what Curt. Lemme pass the phone. Sue, Curt wants to talk to you.”

She squealed excitedly and grabbed the phone. “Hi baby!” Soon her fingers were wrapped around the cord, mirroring how wrapped up she was in conversation with her man.

Maude watched her friend beam with a newfound sense of radiance. Her joyfulness bounced off of her like bright sunbeams, warming up Bluell just as much.

She was so stuck on the picture of her friend, she didn’t realize John had weaseled his way next to her until he was nudging his shoulder with hers. “Doll..” He pushed a glass of water across the table in front of her.

“Thank you.” She hummed. A smile was still plastered across her face as she took a sip.

“So much for being blue, huh?” John mused, completely infatuated with her smile. “Nothing but blue skies…from now onnnn…” He sang in her ear.

Her cheeks began to sting from smiling so much. “You're something else, Major Egan.”

“Well – I’d hope so. Rather be something than nothing at all, you know?” He replied thoughtfully, so thoughtfully that his simple yet profound words settled deeply within the confines of her chest.

“I –” She began to say something, anything really but lost her train of thought in an instance when a fellow pilot interrupted across the Club to make an announcement.

“Come on everybody! Bike race in the mess hall – who’s in?”

“I am.” Bucky stated.

“Me too.” Buck agreed.

And that was that. It was settled. The boys would be racing and Maude and the rest of the ladies would be pulled along to watch.

John grasped Maude’s hand then to do just that, but stopped her in his tracks as he leaned over to whisper, “wait – don’t I get a good luck kiss?”

His forwardness took her by surprise, and even though his charm was very well infectious, she found herself hesitant to appeal to his wishes. “I wouldn’t suggest pushing your luck, Major, but I’m not the kind of lady to oppose a reward in the face of a victor.”

“Ah,” He held their conjoined hands up and kissed the back of hers, sending goosebumps across her fully clothed skin. “More reason for me to win then, hm.”

“Precisely.” She hummed in agreement, right before he took off, dragging her along. Leaving her in a fatal attempt of matching his long strides as she giggled and yelped out his name.

Before she knew it, she found Lottie and the rest of the girls in the Mess, perched and ready to watch the race along with Croz who was mounting a bike not too far away. She congratulated him in passing, and he was happy to see her. It was all a frenzy of fun and games, absolute excitement – until it wasn’t. Until the boys were just reaching the finish line, – Bucky right behind Buck – and the alarms were going off. Alarms that reminded them of the war they were truly in. A war that kept them on their toes and left them taking shelter. Left John without his kiss and Maude running dry of her medicine.

There would be more blue days than blue skies for Nurse Maude Rue Bluell and Major John Bucky Egan – but this night – this very night proved to be the catalyst of something new for the two.

Something that would become much ado.

iiii!! idk how i feel about this but enjoy peeps. feedback would me amazeballs. also curt is wilddddddd 👀🍒🍭

love ya’ll,

xanadu

tag list:

@rubberpsyche

@luminouslywriting

@justheretoreadthxxs

@karmasloverrr

@precious-little-scoundrel

@hellfirequinnie

@yorkshirekiwi

@beingalive1

@andreakz

[afewproblems]

Here is a Ballet Dancer!Steve/Fruity Four Dancer AU - courtesy of @magpiemuseum and this post! Thank you for sending this! I adore this idea!!

I’ll diverge from it slightly and suggest that Steve and Nancy met through ballet.

They dance together, are often partnered with one another in productions, they work well with one another and start dating fairly quickly, it works. Steve loves Nancy, and she seems to care about him deeply as well. But after Will and Barb go missing and only Will comes home, well…

Nancy just doesn’t have the heart to stick with it after that.

So she moves into jazz to express some of that anger and grief. Karen is disappointed in her daughter, that she didn't stick with it the way Karen did but she isn't going to be like her own mother, not again, so she agrees. Nancy has a knack for it, picking up the movements and techniques quickly, just like everything she does, it's with fiery, furious determination.

Steve keeps going with ballet, he's only allowed to because his teachers insist he's good enough to get a free ride to any school once he graduates. His father begrudgingly agrees but never attends another production after Steve turns 15. They don't talk about it.

The multiple concussions over the years eventually begin to affect his performance, the fight with Jonathan, the plate with Billy, the one lift another dancer in their company attempted as a joke during break that ended with Steve having to go to urgent care for stitches. Just his luck.

Now, he can't even handle one rotation in a pirouette without having to sit down until the spots in his vision go away.

He keeps at it, practicing, avoiding spins as much as possible, but since this won't enable him to get into college and his grades are slipping with the absenses and lack of interest, his father finally has the opportunity to tell him its over.

Steve starts at Scoops the day after graduation.

He meets Robin, it's not an immediate spark which is fine by Steve, he's still mourning the loss of his company and all the friends he had made along the way, the wonderful instructors he met over the years. Robin ignores him for the most part until she catches him in the back room one day, humming along to a Madonna song on the mall speaker system as he easily jumps through a pas de chat across the small space.

She interrogates him about this, but it's not as though he ever hid his ability, it's just not something he ever did through school. He had swimming for that.

She studies him for a moment before launching into a quick tap solo as Tiffany's, I Think We're Alone Now, plays softly in the background.

Steve claps with the biggest grin on his face as Robin shyly explains how she's been taking tap for years, in between band practice and the drama club, she hopes it will help her get to Julliard eventually.

It's better after that.

And after the Russians and the awful truth-serum makes its way out of their system, they sit in the bathroom stalls of Star Court. Steve tells her he's never felt like this with almost anyone else, and Robin closes her eyes.

She tells him about Tammy Thompson, and about Nancy Wheeler who she's seen in passing after tap, aggressively dancing in the small studio in Indianapolis her mother takes her to. She tells him that she'd always been jealous of how they'd look at him, how they would never look at her that way, and how it crushed her.

And Steve gets it. He slides under the stall to sit with her, and his heart hurts as he sees her tense up in front of him, he can't have that.

Steve bites his lip as he softly tells her about the guy in their company, the one who had tried the lift with him, you know, as a joke. The one Steve had tried to kiss the day before, not as a joke.

Danny had insisted it was fine, he wasn't interested in Steve like that, but they could still be friends and it didn't have to be weird.

And then he dropped him the next day. You know, accidentally, as a joke.

Robin grabs his hand at this and squeezes it tightly.

He tells her Tammy Thompson sounds like a Muppet so maybe they both have terrible taste.

They don't talk about Nancy. Not quite yet.

After Star Court burns down they are inseparable, two halves of the same heart, platonic soulmates Robin will say in the same breath as she calls him dingus.

He loves it.

They start at Family Video together, complain about Keith and his aggressive annoyance with Steve, but the job is easy enough and actually pays a dollar above minimum wage so Steve tries not to complain too too much. They dance in the break-room, Robin tries to show him some simple tap sequences while Steve corrects her positions. It's harder for Steve to nail down the foot rhythm, but the movements are easy enough. Robin is a little stiff, but she manages to eventually mimic the positions enough to satisfy Steve.

But if course it couldn't last.

Vecna nearly tears apart the world, he succeeds with tearing apart Hawkins and the Upside Down monstes rear their ugly flower faces once again. They meet Eddie, Hopper comes back from the dead, they close the gates, and Steve carries Eddie out of the depths of hell without bleeding out.

Max dies, or nearly dies, the explanation goes over his head as they sit in the waiting room of the hospital after Steve is finally stitched and bandaged up.

They all make it.

It's a long road to recovery, especially for Max with the extensive damage to her eyes and legs, but eventually she walks again, now with a cane which she uses to catch Mike in the ankles every chance she gets, so it helps.

Mike has no idea how she always knows it's him, it's baffling.

It's harder for Steve to move now with the build-up of scar tissue on his sides, it isn't until he cries out in pain after trying a simple jete that he grieves yet another loss.

He stops dancing after that.

Steve tries to be happy for Robin and Nancy, who finally, finally, start dating. Jonathan seems to understand, but his grief has always been quiet. Argyle helps, the two of them are seen together more often than not in the wake of Jon and Nancy's breakup. Steve knows exactly how it feels not to have someone to lean on in the aftermath of Nancy Wheeler. He's happy for them, or he tries to be.

He wishes he had that.

Steve still see's Robin, they are soulmates after all, but it isnt quite the same anymore. Nancy seems to have taken up the mantel of the other half of Robin's heart, and Steve?

It's fine. He's fine.

He starts spending a lot of time with Eddie. They commiserate about the kids and their attitude, Steve tells Eddie more about the Upside Down and how he  got roped into it all.

The topic of dance comes up as an accident.

Eddie makes a comment about college and the future which prompts Steve to snort. It isn't as though he has any options anymore, he can't continue with ballet, he barely had the grades to graduate, he's going nowhere fast.

Eddie looks at him, his face surprised at first, whether by the information or by the dejected tone of Steve's voice.

He tells him about his own experience with dance, how after his uncle took him in that he found channeling his frenetic and nervous energy into contemporary dance.

Pouring his breath and emotions into the movements, it's always helped to slow his brain down from the constant mile-a-minute thoughts that used to over take him.

He tells Steve that despite the new scars that littler his torso, he's managed to keep up with the movements, that the practice seems to even help with the pain.

Steve is enraptured by the description, a small flicker of hope burns in his chest as he asks to see in a small voice.

Steve is immediately blinded by the 1000 watt smile Eddie gives him.

And oh.

Oh he's in trouble.

Eddie is beautiful when he dances, it's a fascinating departure from the precision of ballet and even the fast pace of tap that Robin has shown him. Eddie left his hair down so the curls sweep around him as he moves.

This is all storytelling and emotion, it's deliberate but free, and Steve can hardly breathe as Eddie finishes.

"So what's the verdict big boy?" Eddie pants as he pushes his wild curls out of his flushed face.

Fuck, and that image alone has Steve blushing as well.

Steve swallows roughly, "Think you could show me a thing or two Eds," he murmurs softly as Eddie laughs.

They spend the rest of the afternoon with Eddie correcting Steve's posture and positions, slowly directly his movement, and letting his hands linger on Steve.

He's still physically sore by the end of it, and he wants nothing more that a couple of tylenol and a long warm bath once he heads home for the night, but Eddie's smile and the memory of his hands and gentle patience leave Steve feeling warm and hopeful for the first time in a long time.

He doesn't have to give up something that had been such a large part of himself for so long.

He can still dance.

It feels like he can breath again.

Steve goes to sleep that night and dreams of dancing with Eddie.

And in this one, he doesn't drop him, not once.

[randomvarious]

Next Evidence - “Dune” Stockholm Mix Sessions 2 by Jesper Dahlbäck Song released in 1999. Mix released in 2000. Deep House

It’s kinda strange how you can’t find a proper bio about this French deep house duo anywhere. You’d think that when an enormous major label like Capitol/EMI puts out someone’s album, it’d help to generate some kind of fanfare for the artist, but it doesn’t really appear to have done so in the case of Next Evidence; at least not to the point where some professional music writer publishes a few sentences online about what the duo does and where they’re from. All we really have to go on here is a poorly written, unverified thing from some last.fm user. Crazy.

But allow me to piece together a narrative here that differs slightly from that last.fm entry. Next Evidence was made up of Maxime Cohen and Michael Tordjman. In ‘97, while they were both in their mid-20s, the pair put out their debut record, and in '98, they started their own small record label, Basic Recordings, which ended up releasing material from a handful of house talents, including Julien Jabre and Dennis Ferrer.

The following year, with five releases solidly under their belt as a duo, Next Evidence put out an EP called Sands on the Paris-based Versatile Records. And it’s on that little EP that you’ll find a deep house banger of theirs called “Dune.”

Now, what appears to have sonically set Next Evidence apart from most of their fellow deep house peers is that they had a special affinity for African percussion. While most deep house makers were just using standard drum machines or software to construct their backbeats, these guys were on some different shit, making sure that just the basest parts of their own productions were unique enough to catch and then captivate one’s ear. And that approach, when it comes to just the music itself, will definitely give you a leg up on your competition, because at jump, when all you’ve really introduced is your drums, you’re already putting out something that doesn’t sound like most of what else is out there, and your tune’s barely even gotten started yet! And that���s not to say that others weren’t also using African percussion in their deep house at the time, but it definitely wasn’t nearly as commonplace as other methods of crafting a backbeat.

So, next, you add some space-dubby synth-work to the track, and then by making some slight alterations here and there, you can just coast on that combo for as long as you’d like and you’ll still have a mighty fine track, right? Well, yeah, you could do that, but Next Evidence had other ideas, because just as you really start to sink yourself into this groove for the long haul, they decide to unexpectedly seep in some fantastically sex-wet jazz sax, courtesy of some French dude named Denis Guivarc'h, who’d apparently been lending his talents to records for years before this one and still does to this day. He’s doesn’t appear to have ever released anything on his own, but you can hear his exploits on a sizeable chunk of releases that have been coming out since the early 90s.

And then after Guivarc'h finishes his part, a new top layer of percussion suddenly arrives, courtesy of a guy named Nicolas Krassilchik, who provides an awesome solo on timbales, further enhancing this experience even more. According to Discogs, this was only Krassilchik’s second-ever appearance on wax, but it sure as shit doesn’t sound like it, because his contribution here is simply electric. And Krassilchik is another guy who’s never released anything on his own either, although he was a member of a group called 26 Pinel, who ended up putting out a couple albums in the mid-2000s.

This fully-packed track is amazing. Like, I would’ve totally dug it if it was just only made up of those drums and synths; it was that good already. But then Cohen and Tordjman decide to bring in those back-to-back sax and timbales solos, and the song just ascends to another plane 😌. 

What a superb tune from this duo who you can barely find anything about online, even though they’ve had a major label album release!

[demonic0angel]

Your Damian Fenton post gave me severe Uncles+Aunt Everlasting Trio vibes.

After the Moment TM of Danny being jealous about Jazz fixating so much on Damian, and everything had been said and resolved, I can imagine Damian being a little insecure, because his own Uncle looked like he didn't like him.

The goggles being a gift from Danny would be the turning point for the two of them.

Imagine, Danny in the lab, looking over notes from Frostbite about some experiment that he wanted to try out, maybe to take neutral ectoplasm and make it into healing ectoplasm, and he's pulling out his hair a little bit, because it's a lot all at once, and Damian wanders into the room, a little nervous, because while Uncle Danny already said it wasn't his fault, Damian still desperately wants his family to like him.

It's the "lightbulb moment" of a successful experiment that turns it around into Danny and Dakian being thick as thieves.

Danny bouncing on the spot, watching the mixture settle and change colors, and as he feels Damian approach curiously, in true Jack Fenton fashion, Damian gets to be squished against Danny's chest like a teddy bear while listening to his Uncle rapid-fire explain what just happened. It's actually pretty nice, getting to go limp and be swung around while cradled against Danny's chest, while Danny purrs with joy.

By the time he's set down again, Damian has a cursory understanding of what the experiment was, and also undeniable proof of love from his Uncle.

From there, Danny breaks out his old lab coat, from when he was Damian's size with the matching safety goggles, and has Damian put them on so they can take a photo together and send it to Jazz.

I can imagine Danny ruffling Damian's hair, giving him the Gremlin Smile and telling him "your mother's gonna flip if she catches you here without safety gear. But don't worry, your uncle's gonna make sure you know how to stay safe."

Danny gets whapped with the newspaper for using Lab Time as a bonding moment, but Damian is still clinging to him and constantly swishing the ends of his lab coat like he can't believe he's wearing it.

From there, by the time Danny, Sam and Tucker finally start dating, Damian has at least one patch in all his jeans, courtesy of Tucker, and he keeps stealing one specific t-shirt from Sam, because she left it in Danny's room and Damian thought it was the coolest thing ever, so he's going to steal it, like the gremlin Fenton child that he's learning to be.

Sam shows up the next day with a whole suitcase of graphic t-shirts for Damian to try.

Do you think the reason why Damian meets the Bats is because the Trio have eventually moved to Gotham, and Jazz+Damian are taking a vacation to go see his Aunt and Uncles?

The Trio take their nephew to a dog park so he can pet the dogs? Maybe also because they adopted a puppy from a shelter and whenever Damian is with them he HAS to be involved in walking the dog every day?

Regardless, one of the Bats see this mini-Bruce racing a dog through the park, and immediately have to go stick their nose into it, to great distress to Damian, and some seriously ruffled feathers from his Uncles, Aunt and Mother. Luckily, not Grandma and Grandpa, this time, because they're busy attending a seminar with Frostbite and his students, or there would be even more threats of bodily harm than there already were.

Danny, Tucker, and Sam were definitely a large part of his life since they babysat him when Jazz was busy. He bonded with them a lot over shared hobbies and interests (Sam with gardening and plants, Tucker with cars and machinery, Danny with ghosts and science and stars).

Honestly, when I thought of Danny being jealous of Damian, it was meant to be a moment between Jazz and Danny since Damian would've been like,,, seven when it happened. However, your idea is super cute! Danny and Damian do often do experiments and hang out with each other, but that's a post for another day 😌 the coat is specifically from Jazz since she gave it to him for his first birthday with them.

The reason why Damian meets the Bats is that the entire Fenton family went there to visit for vacation, but the real reason was that Jazz was planning to move there for work and wanted to take Damian with her, so she wanted to check it out first. Of course, shenanigans ensue as Damian makes friends with the Batkids (who are endeared by the tiny, mad scientist) and then eventually meets Bruce.

[beardedmrbean]

So if "mansplaning" is when a man explains a woman's area of expertise to her as if he's the authority and she isn't, what would you call it when a woman explains a man's area of expertise to him like she knows more than he does? Because that happened to me today.

about to sign out for the night saw this, there's a word that's been used not by me.

very similar to mansplaining but remove man and insert a offensive word that starts with "c"

Or you could just be normal and accept that sometimes people are telling you things you already know for a variety of reasons that you may not be aware of.

Guys explaining Deadpool while in like for the movie to one of the women that wrote a bunch of the comics (I think it was) for example, she understood that the dudes were excited and wanted to share. Also she knows that as a comic author her face isn't likely out there too much so it was dudes just jazzed to talk about the character to someone they had no idea knew more than they could hope to know.

Conversely if they had known and they went in in a condescending fashion, she would be within her rights to be a massive bitch right back at them.

So ya, try to go with a proper perspective before making a judgement.

If I'm walking around the Saturn V building at Kennedy Space center and start talking about how all that stuff worked only to find out that I was talking to Harrison Schmitt one of the last men to walk on the moon, I'd feel foolish but I imagine he wouldn't be upset since have you ever heard of him or would you know what he looked like.

I'd like to think that courtesy could be extended to lots of people to save a lot of butthurt

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

So I've got a AU for you.

My idea is this there is a old man ghost bald head massive Ghost fire beard and it's got all these trinkets and stuff in it like a dwarf beard but this guy is like 9 ft tall and about 8 ft wide ( not really ). Anyway this ghost has been living near Amity park for a very long time he has a Time core any one of his abilities is visions. And whenever anyone has asked him why he's an Amity Park or more like a building in the woods all he will say is "I'm waiting for the king to arrive".

So being a ghost with a Time core has given him some advantages he can look into the past and learn things from one of his passions and obsessions is weapon forging or just plain creation he's a blacksmith he looks like a blacksmith he has a green leather apron and the funniest thing is people know he's there they just ignore him it's like a dirty secret the select few know and just won't talk about hell Danny actually meets him before the accident is parents had got word and decided that Danny should join them on the hunt the end result is Danny's parents being beaten unconscious and thrown out of the ghosts forge while Danny is left alone because he didn't attack the ghost the ghost has the courtesy to tell him that his parents will be fine just bruised bodies and egos. This gets Danny's respect and gives him a bit more courage so after a while Danny talks to him and after a while talking Danny drives his unconscious parents home.

But now there's this vendetta that his parents have but they don't just keep running at this ghost they know what's going to happen if they try anything their weapons will be destroyed and dismantled and they'll be beat unconscious at best broken bones if they really piss him off. Sorry for so often his parents come home after getting their ass kicked by this ghost and Danny is kind of concerned but also really amused and jazz just doesn't believe them. And this keeps going on until the portal accident.

You know I didn't mean to put so much there I just kept on thinking up stuff anyway you can edit how you like and head on from there hope you enjoy this idea. Also I used voice to text from my phone for this and I didn't really look over it sorry not sorry.

Sorry, I've been meaning to clean out my inbox but I always get distracted. This is more of an oc than an au but im loving it! Let Danny have a break :D

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

NY headcanon post!! <3

Headcanons:

-scrawny sad angy cat man

-the tallest of their brothers, around 5'10

-he's also the youngest sibling cuz I said so <3

-he/him, they/them pronouns

-would absolutely be the biggest sweetheart if life for him wasn't the entire "r/f*ckyouinparticular" subreddit

-he's usually nice when he wants to be, which doesn't happen to often (it does but he doesn't know how to express it)

-it's pretty much agreed by the whole fandom that he's 10 cats in a trench coat right? Thought so.

-^loves headpats, head scratches, chin scratches, pets, and all that jazz and will lay in your lap and purr. (That sounds weird but oh well I am weird-)

-^climbs on everything. They're really good at it too. If theyre being chased by one of their brothers or friends (they have those??? 😨😱), theyll find the nearest tall object (like a tree. Or the fridge. Or the vents.) and climb it/into it.

-^is always protecting their stomach like a damn cat. If he's fully relaxed and laying down around you and not tense and curled up, consider getting a lottery ticket cuz you sir/ma'am/Mx. are lucky as hell.

-^has claws, but has almost no idea how to use them. He just knows to swing and hope they hit their target.

-^✨fangs✨

-he's actually very good at cooking and loves cooking for people! Though as for themself, it's either nothing, a cup of coffee, or some random thing he finds.

-*points* AUTISM. ADHD. PTSD. DPD. BPD. DEPRESSION. ANXIETY. PANIC DISORDER. GO TAKE YOUR MEDS NEW YORK BEFORE I BEAT YOUR A-

-I'm very nice to them and I've given him: anemia, insomnia, an iron deficiency, and asthma, as well as misaligned leg bones (courtesy of England and my f*cked up brain) and chronic bodily pains (courtesy of me projecting)

-doesn't know what sleep is.

-will sleep when hell freezes over

-sunbathes in the sunlight like a damn cat tho.

-cannot handle being pinned down in any circumstance. It gives him BAD flashbacks.

-will snuggle up to the OG13 and Main 6 any day, but ESPECIALLY when it's a bad day with his ptsd. They feel safe around the others. And the others will protect him at any cost.

-He has a very hard time figuring out whether or not all the BAD stuff is over :(

————————

@misery-has-no-company-now @almostangrything @alaskashigh @stawpny <— professional NY simps /lh/silly