#also the age up is not for weird purposes i SWEAR its just a future au

[oceanof-starz]

dhhffgrhs ILOVE THEM. AARRUGUGUDHCHDHSBA HEIDIDISUE THREEMT HEMTHEMTBTHEKEM YAYAAY ILOVE THEM!!

[willowcrowned]

Okay but has anyone considered Obi-wan/Cody/Satien (is that how its spelled?) Regardless, hes got two hands for his two mandalorians, the au where this happend is gotta be top notch ridiculous ye?

Okay thank you so much for giving me a reason to think about this, because this AU contains three things I adore: polyamory, ships where everyone is frighteningly competent, and Obi-Wan

In this AU, Ventress is somehow even less well-adjusted (bear with me). What this means is that, instead of taking a gap year and finding herself after her family is brutally murdered, she decides she needs to get revenge even more now. What does this mean? In the short term, she still becomes a bounty hunter, but in the long run? She’s looking for a Sith lord team up so she can punch Dooku (with a lit lighstaber) in his stupid, elitist, backstabbing face.

So when Maul invades Mandalore, what happens? Ventress comes right along, ready to give her ‘I know we hate each other, but consider teaming up to kill someone we both hate even MORE’ space TED talk. And though Maul may be terribly annoying, a closet theater kid, always in a tits out kind of mood, and denying his gay awakening, he’s not stupid. He knows Sidious is coming for him, sooner rather than later, and he knows he needs more people on his side than his (impressively beefy) brother. He and Savage agree to the team-up.

Cue Obi-Wan showing up, ready to save his sort-of girlfriend, and finding Pre Vizsla, who got REAL sus the second ANOTHER lunatic with a red lightsaber showed up, occupied by capturing Maul, Savage, and Ventress. 

Obi-Wan saves Satie, who convinces him to call Cody for a quick evac, and they’re running away, flirting, and arguing over shooting things (as usual), when they spot Ventress, Maul, and Savage, about to be executed.

Oh, they both think, hell no. And then, because they have a stupid moral code that makes them do stupid moral things, they go save them.

A little background on Obi-Wan at this point: He has been fighting in a war for over two years. He is exhausted, close to a breakdown, and seriously questioning his place as a General. Next to him at all times, supporting him, helping him, and saving him, is Cody, who is clever, kinder than he has any right to be, and is, of course, devastatingly handsome when he does his special, unique-to-Cody half-smirk.

Obi-Wan, to put it mildly, is totally gone on him. Obi-Wan also, to put it less mildly, is his commanding officer in an army that Cody can’t leave on pain of death. To do anything— make any advance beyond the flirting that he engages in with most people— would put Cody in a very uncomfortable position, whether or not he returns Obi-Wan’s feelings. So Obi-Wan watches him from afar, hoping against hope that his affections are returned, and that one day, after the end of the war, there will be a future for both of them.

A little more background on Obi-Wan at this point: He has always respected Satine. Their correspondence fell apart just a few months after the end of his mission with Qui-Gon, but he’s been keeping up with her professional accomplishments for years. Over time, the love he bore for her faded, leaving him with good memories and an enduring appreciation for her courage, her cleverness, and her ability to deliver devastating blows to someone’s confidence with a few well-placed words.

Until he sees her again. And yes, alright, he might be angry that she’s choosing to stay out of the war— he knows what good she could do— but he understands her fears, understands the very real possibility that if Mandalore gets embroiled in yet another war, they may never recover. The thing is... well, she’s still very beautiful, especially when he’s yelling at him, and as slowly as his feelings had faded then, they come back in a rush now.

He has very much fallen in love with Cody, and he is very much still in love with Satine.

Cut back to the present— Obi-Wan and Satine rescue the three most annoying Sith in the galaxy and get the heck out of dodge. Cody, because he’s Cody, comes swooping in with a last-minute rescue.

At this point, two things are occurring.

The first: Obi-Wan is stuck in a room with four people he’s periodically flirted with over the past few years, two of whom he’s desperately in love with, one of whom he had a weird encounter with that he can never tell Anakin about when she and him got trapped in a middle school auditorium, and one of whom is definitely wearing no shirt and all that jewelry for a reason. It is Supremely awkward for him.

The second: Every single person in that room, each of which is (barring Savage) deeply attracted to Obi-Wan, is realizing that Obi-Wan is dressed in Mandalorian armor, and while Obi-Wan in three layers of tunics and a cloak is an absolute knockout, Obi-Wan in Mandalorian armor may very well kill them (and he won’t even have to touch his lightsaber to do it).

For one single moment, everything is absolutely still as they all stare at each other.

...And then Maul starts on the ‘I will rend your flesh from your bones, feel my wrath, Kenobarrgh’ spiel, and Satine stuns him. Oh, and Savage. Ventress agrees to watch the two of them if they don’t stun her, and Obi-Wan agrees.

Which then leaves him, Cody, and Satine in a room alone.

A word on Cody at this point: He has been bred from birth to be the perfect soldier— loyal, clever (but not too clever), and rigourously adherent to protocol. Yet, within three months of knowing Obi-Wan, he’s, well, calling him Obi-Wan in his head. Even just that is a gross breach of protocol, but he’s compromised in more ways than one. He talks to Obi-Wan, now, not just as a subordinate, or secondary advisor, but as a friend, as a councilor. Every time Obi-Wan touches him— never for longer than a brief second— his skin lights up under his armor. One time, Obi-Wan fell asleep on him for half an hour, and Cody’s was sure everyone would hear his heartbeat. 

What he’s doing— how he feels— he knows it’s putting Obi-Wan in danger, knows that if the Kaminoans had wanted to the clones to be equals to the Jedi, they would have told them so. And look, he knows what the natborns would call the way he’s feeling, but he can’t feel that way. He’s a clone— he’s expendable by definition. Even if, on some off-chance, he makes it out of this war alive, there’s nothing for him. Obi-Wan couldn’t care for him like that, couldn’t care for a man with the same face as millions of others, born and bred only for war. So it doesn’t matter how he feels.

A word on Satine at this point: Obi-Wan, when he left, was a gawkish, bumbling thing of red hair and freckles and the sweetest smile. Obi-Wan, when he came back, was graceful, eloquent, and very, very handsome. He is also infuriating. (This does not change how attracted she is to him in the least.)

She’s not a romantic, really, but she is a realist, and she knows she’s loved him in some form or another for over twenty years. She knows she can’t ask him to return it— knows that asking him to leave the order for her wouldn’t just be for her, it would be for Mandalore, and while the politician in her cries for her to claim him, the person in her who loves Obi-Wan could not abide tearing him away from his culture for her own purposes. She still loves him, deeply and irrevocably, and she knows he still loves her. (Maybe, she thinks, after the war... But she can’t afford to be sentimental).

What do Cody and Satine have in common? They’re both extremely competent, both instinctively ruthless, and they both love Obi-Wan. Oh, and they’re also both immediately jealous of their counterpart.

They know they shouldn’t be. They know it’s not fair, not when Obi-Wan isn’t theirs anyways, but it doesn’t change the surge of envy and dislike that happens when they see Obi-Wan use the soft voice he only uses for the people he likes best on the person across from them.

Cody knows he can never compare to the Duchess, who is beautiful and well-spoken and has held Obi-Wan’s heart since they were fifteen. Satine knows she can never compare to Cody, who has been at Obi-Wan’s side every second since the war’s beginning, who is so much closer in ideals to Obi-Wan than she is, however it might appear on the surface.

Fortunately, they don’t have to deal with it for long, because Ventress comes in with Maul and Savage and proposes a team up, at which point Maul reveals the identity of the Sith Master.

Obi-Wan swears a string of words that Cody and Satine are both very impressed by, and agrees to the team up. Cody and Satine, who are both going to Coruscant anyways, agree to it too.

What ensues is a good deal of scheming, during which Cody and Satine avoid each other like the plague, Obi-Wan is repeatedly told to get some sleep, and Ventress cuffs Maul to a door on multiple nonconsecutive occasions. When they get to Coruscant, Satine has already told Padmé, who has in turn told her group of anti-war (and anti-Palpatine) senators, Cody has given Rex a heads up, and Ventress, Maul, and Savage have been metaphorically sharpening their lightsabers for ages.

(It occurs to Obi-Wan, at one point, after he’s woken up from his enforced 25-hour nap, that Palpatine must have created the clone army for a reason— must have a failsafe in place— and he asks Ahsoka to pull all the data the Kaminoans have on the clones. They find out about the chips, and Ahsoka immediately immediately holds the Kaminoans at laser sword point until they reprogram every order into a command that dissolves the chip.)

The thing about organizing a coup together is that it makes it very hard to avoid each other. Cody and Satine are forced to work together, and, what do you know, it turns out that even with seething jealousy at work, they end up respecting each other. (Note: Obi-Wan comes into a room at one point to see them both bent over a commlink, heads together and hands nearly touching. He short circuits.)

In any case, coup, Palps dies, Republic fixed, whatever.

What’s important is that Obi-Wan gets really, really injured— so much so that he might die. Cody and Satine have dealt with him being dead before (Deception arc anyone?), but this? Watching him slowly fade, knowing there’s nothing they can do about it? That’s worse.

One night, when Anakin has fallen asleep, they have a long conversation in low voices about Obi-Wan, darting from fond to furious to devastated over and over again. If he wakes up— if, not when— they agree to say something to Obi-Wan, to let him know that they love him. It’s a meager consolation after all they’ve been through, but this is the end, in one way or another, and they deserve to be honest with him.

(Cody thinks, privately, that he will be— well, not tossed aside, because Obi-Wan isn’t the sort of person who does that, but there won’t be a place for him by Obi-Wan’s side anymore. Obi-Wan is a Jedi, a negotiator, a peacekeeper, and Cody is a soldier for a now-ended war. He is already steeling himself to accept Obi-Wan’s polite rejection with equanimity, to not cause more pain to the man. (It will be easy, he knows, to wish him every peace, every happiness. Cody has only ever wanted to see Obi-Wan happy. This does not mean it will not be painful.) Obi-Wan said once that he would have left the Order for Satine if she’d asked— she will ask, now, and Cody knows Obi-Wan will leave, can see the love written in his face, in his spine, in his hands, whenever he is around her. Satine will ask, and Obi-Wan will leave, and Cody will be left to look for a place in this new galaxy.)

(Satine thinks, privately, that Obi-Wan’s feelings for her must be long faded, replaced by his obvious ones for Cody. Obi-Wan is a warrior, a Knight, and Satine is a diplomat who foreswore violence long ago. She is already steeling herself to accept his rejection with grace. (It will be easy, she knows, to wish him well. She has only ever wanted good things for him. This does not mean it will not be painful.) He said once that he would have left the Order for her if she’d asked, and whatever he’d felt then for her pales to what he feels now for Cody. Cody will ask, and Obi-Wan will leave, and Satine will rule as she always has.)

And then Obi-Wan wakes up.

Cody and Satine let him have his long talk with Anakin first, partially because they know how important it is to him, partially because Anakin wouldn’t let them if they wanted to, and partially because they are dreading their own coming conversation. When Anakin has finished, and Obi-Wan is asleep again, they go in, hand-in-hand, and wait for him to wake up.

When he does wake up, he sees them holding hands and immediately comes to several wrong conclusions. Wrong Conclusion A: Cody and Satine are in love. Wrong Conclusion B: Cody and Satine are going to try to break the news that they’re in love to him gently. Wrong Conclusion C: This conversation is about to break his heart.

Then they speak.

At the end of it, Obi-Wan has some Thoughts. Thought One: alkdfjhskhsgjljlbhkgkjbjvnab,gkjvn;qlerghjsv?????!!!!fwbfwlkrehwogwhuwrijvhfdbhkf!!!! Thought Two: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Thought Three: Oh, we’re all idiots. Fantastic. 

He then passes out, because being on the edge of death for days and then having a shock to your system this big tends to do that to you.

When he wakes up, he is mildly more coherent. Then he sees that Satine and Cody are asleep on each other, and the coherence is lost, but he does manage to wake them up and get across three things:

Thing One: He is desperately in love with them both.

Thing Two: He’s leaving the Order for a multitude of reasons, but they are a Significant Bonus.

Thing Three: He would very much like if they both held his hand while he falls back asleep.

Cody takes Obi-Wan’s right hand, Satine takes Obi-Wan’s left hand, and the three of them stay like that, fingers intertwined, for a long, long, while.

[novelconcepts]

fic: heading into the dark (and we’ve got to hang on to each other)

Life, as Dani Clayton sees it, is full of darkness. Little darknesses, like a mother who draws away even as she continues to draw breath, and big darknesses, like loss that comes out of absolutely nowhere, and all the variations in between. Life is unpredictable. It’s ugly. It’s cruel. 

Life also grants the laughter of small children, and wonderful dinners prepared by good friends, and Jamie’s hand in hers. 

There is, certainly, no shortage of lights in the dark. 

***

“Teach me,” she says one day, a month or two into the great experiment that is Moving to America with Jamie. “Come on.”

“Teach you,” Jamie repeats dryly. “To incur lung cancer?”

“You do it,” Dani points out, aware that she sounds rather petulant and not particularly caring. Jamie’s smiling the half-smile she gets whenever she’s about to let herself get talked over the edge of something. “Come on, I want to see what all the fuss is about.”

Jamie shakes her head, but she’s already lost this battle, and she knows it. Her foot braced behind her on the wall outside their apartment, she turns her head toward the setting sun and exhales a long stream of blue smoke. “Fine, sure. But when you love it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I hardly think I’m in danger of--”

“Shut up and c’mere.” She cups her hand around the half-smoked cigarette, holding it up for Dani’s assessment. It’s awkward, the pass-off between her hand and Dani’s more of a fumble than anything else, and Dani nearly drops the damn thing. Jamie laughs. “Easy, now, don’t go wasting it. Now. Put it--”

“I know where to put it,” Dani laughs. Jamie raises her brows teasingly. 

“I’ll just bet you do. Okay, right, here’s the thing. When you inhale, you’re gonna want to take it slow. Nice and easy, but make sure you’re pulling the smoke deep into your lungs, or it’ll defeat the whole--”

Dani’s already sucking in a breath, and she’s just realized Jamie’s eyes have gone wide when her body recoils from the invasive swirl sweeping into her lungs like a hurricane. 

“Easy, I said!” Jamie pries the cigarette from Dani’s suddenly-limp grasp as she doubles over on a gagging cough. Her lungs burn, her hand groping for Jamie’s sleeve, and even though it feels fucking awful, there’s something so wonderfully steadying about Jamie’s hand rubbing circles between her shoulder blades. 

“Now’s not the time for an old-fashioned I-told-you-so, is it?”

Eyes streaming, Dani tries to fix her with a glare, but Jamie’s outlined in the red-gold of a setting sun, her lips pursed around the cigarette once more, and she can’t find it within herself to do anything but laugh. 

***

“You really don’t know how?”

“Don’t laugh,” Jamie grumbles. “Never got around to it, is all.”

Dani’s leaning forward, practically falling off the beach chair in her excitement. Jamie, she has learned over these past few months together, is not the sort of person who doesn’t know things. She may not be good at everything she tries--she’s a rotten cook, for example, though a passable baker--but it sometimes feels like Jamie’s lived more in thirty years than Dani will if granted twice that time. Sometimes, when Jamie is sweeping a billiards table, or fixing a door hinge, or replacing a bit of questionable wiring in the bathroom without managing to electrocute either of them, Dani catches herself thinking there’s nothing Jamie doesn’t know. 

She can never decide if this is more overwhelming or reassuring, truthfully. 

But this. This is just too damn good. 

“You have to let me teach you,” Dani says. “You have to, come on.”

“I think you’ll find I don’t,” Jamie says, arms crossed over her chest. Dani slides from her chair, darting a glance around. It’s unseasonably chilly for June in California, the sky a mottled blue-gray that suggests a storm could strike at any moment. The beach is blessedly clear, and she takes the opportunity to slip into Jamie’s lap.

“Please? It’ll make me so happy, to get to teach you something, for once.”

She can see Jamie doing the calculations, brow furrowed over uncertain eyes. On the one hand, if learning how to swim had been on her radar, she likely would have picked it up ages ago; on the other, Dani’s arms are around her neck, nails tracing lightly under the tousle of her hair, and this is not the sort of conversation starter that often leads to Jamie saying the word “no.”

“Right,” she says grumpily at last. Dani isn’t quite sure whether it’s the batting of her eyelashes or the scrape of short nails across the nape of Jamie’s neck that gets the job done, but Jamie is hoisting them both out of the white plastic chair. “Fine, then, Poppins. Lead me to the slaughter.”

The rain holds off all afternoon, long enough for Jamie’s uneasy flapping in shallow waves to transition into clumsy-yet-useful buoyancy. When Dani places a hand lightly beneath her back and eases her into a calm float, her brow creases. 

“Hey,” Dani says quietly. Her free hand cups Jamie’s cheek, smoothing salty water into her skin. “Look at me. You trust me?”

“Always,” Jamie replies, the word coming almost before Dani’s question is complete. She opens her eyes, and Dani smiles. 

“I’d never let you drown, Jamie. Promise. And who knows? This might come in handy someday.”

***

“It’s...big,” Dani says, a bit nervously. Laughter explodes out of Jamie like a firecracker. 

“It’s not! It’s wee as all hell, Poppins.”

“Bigger than I thought,” Dani amends. “You sure we can keep a place like this afloat?”

The idea of running a business still seems like something out of an extended fever, if she’s honest with herself. At first, it had been a laugh--a conversation held over an empty pizza box and two spent bottles of wine, with her head in Jamie’s lap and her legs all twisted under a blanket. She’d told Jamie she felt weird about getting back into teaching, about the idea of subjecting any kids to whatever mad road her mind might lead her down. 

“They’ll need to be able to rely on me,” she’d said, a little too drunk to really feel the weight of the sentiment. Jamie’s fingers drifted through her hair, her thumb catching on the shell of her ear. “Can’t do that if your teacher’s in the middle of losing her marbles.”

“You’re not,” Jamie had said, with that soft resolution Dani loved so much in her. “But s’all right. You don’t have to go back just yet--ever, if you don’t want to. We can do something else for an honest buck.”

It was a conversation, a way to make herself feel better about the imminent future and all its secrets...and then, seemingly all at once, it was real. A real little shop, just down the block from their apartment, with a real counter and real shelves and a real back room for custom arrangements. Jamie could grow here, anything she liked. And Dani could bask in the peculiar sensation of having a purpose again, even if not the one she’d expected. 

It’s a lot those first few days--weeks--months, but a year in, Dani finds she’s taken to the shop like almost nothing else in her life. She loves talking to the people who bustle in looking for arrangements for mothers and wives and graduation events. She loves the way Jamie tends to the flowers with a gentle hand, always willing to pop off a fact or insight about any given type. She especially loves the way Jamie looks at closing time each night, the way she combs her shaggy hair back from her eyes and leans over each bud in turn to murmur reassurances. Back in the morning. You all get on, best behavior, until we meet again. 

She slips up behind Jamie, arms around her middle, and rests her chin on Jamie’s shoulder. “I like that you do that. Talk to them.”

Jamie favors her with a soft, tired smile. “Nothin’ ever blossomed without good communication, Poppins.”

***

Dani starts saying I love you so much faster than either of them is prepared for. The first time the words slip from her mouth, they’re standing in the devastation of what once qualified as their kitchen. Batter drips down the side of the refrigerator. There’s flour caked in Jamie’s hair, giving the effect of a grumpy old witch woman whose magic potion rebelled in the most cataclysmic sense. 

“Swear to Christ,” she says gruffly. “I had the damn mixer in the damn bowl.”

The way Dani sees it, there are two ways to respond to this: with scolding, or with hysterical laughter. She settles on the latter almost without conscious decision, scooping up a handful of flour and tossing it into the air like confetti. Jamie’s mouth opens and closes, words not quite enough for the moment. 

“You,” she says, “are irreverent.”

“And you,” Dani replies, skating across the slippery tile until she has Jamie backed up against the postcard-bedazzled front of the fridge. “You’re wonderful.”

Jamie looks like she wants to contradict this statement, perhaps thinking of the cake that now decorates the walls. “This was going to be for your birthday, you--”

Dani is kissing her, hands gripping Jamie’s collar. She hasn’t felt this relaxed in weeks, melting against Jamie when hands settle around her waist like Jamie’s been looking for a reason to give in all afternoon. 

“I--could still--” Jamie’s mouth moves down her neck, more than half distracted from her own words. “--fix it--”

“You’re right where you’re supposed to be,” Dani tells her, or thinks she does; it’s a bit hard to focus with Jamie’s hand sliding around and down that way, with Jamie’s hips bucking lightly against her. 

“It’s like you don’t even want a birthday cake,” Jamie murmurs, biting her shoulder gently through the thin fabric of a co-opted Blondie shirt. “Did I say you could borrow this?”

“Take it back, then,” Dani breathes. 

Later, tucked together against the cabinets, she turns her face against Jamie’s neck. Her hand is trapped between the tile and Jamie’s back, going steadily numb. Moving isn’t even a concept. 

“I love you,” she says. It comes out a little slurred, a little sleepy, but entirely true. Jamie raises her head, shifting to look her in the face. 

“It’s all to do with my grade-A baking talents, isn’t it?”

***

Jamie doesn’t say it back right away. Most of the time, Dani gets it. Doesn’t want to push. There was so much of that in her old life, in what she sometimes thinks of as the Era of Danielle--every step of the way with Edmund felt like someone was standing behind her, hands pressed into her back, shoving her along. Into a man, yes, but more than that: into a preconceived notion. Be somebody’s wife. Be somebody’s answer to the question of who they want to be in the world. Be small, be quiet, be the person who says yes and yes and yes, absolutely, even when you want to scream. 

The last thing she’d ever do is push Jamie, so she doesn’t make a big deal out of it. If Jamie loves her--and Dani’s fairly confident she does, at least on the days when the old ghosts aren’t cracking out of the walls to tell her otherwise--then Jamie will get around to it on her own merit. 

Still, when Jamie does, it takes her by surprise. 

“I’m pretty in love with you, it turns out,” she says, like she’s been steeling herself for this moment for weeks--and, Dani thinks, judging by the single moonflower on the counter, she probably has. Jamie, who pretends to play the game of life with such casual disinterest. Jamie, who pretends it’s all one-day-at-a-time. Jamie, who spent hours in secret cultivating this one tiny symbol that says so unbelievably much about her, just so she could tell Dani all this in the right way. 

There’s a couch in the back room, a wide squashy old beast that Dani had been adamantly opposed to when Jamie first pointed it out. “It’s ridiculous. What are we going to do with that?”

She has to admit, pulling Jamie along and latching the door behind them, that it seems like an excellent idea now. It’s only by the thinnest grace of self-preservation--she likes this shop, likes this life, would very much like not to be run out of Vermont by some old-fashioned jackass peering through their window and seeing too much--that they make it to the couch at all. 

“It’s okay, then,” Jamie says, falling backward onto overstuffed brown leather and pulling Dani with her. “This problem of ours?”

Dani kisses her, the giddiness and desire so powerful a combination, she almost feels drunk with it. Jamie laughs into her mouth, one hand already working the buttons of her blouse, that laugh turning into a low, liquid groan. Dani, fingers slipping between waistband and skin, has already beaten her to the punch. 

It’s in moments like these, she thinks. Moments like these where everything falls into place. Not just being with Jamie, but being with Jamie here, in a place they own, on their own terms. Not just being with Jamie, but being with a Jamie who has been clarifying her love for a year, doing so with hot tea and cool smiles and repairs around the house and gentle reassurances. She said it here, planned out like a proposal, and she’s saying it again and again--”love you, fuck, love you--” as Dani winds them closer together, but it wasn’t the first time. Not really. Jamie’s been saying it since the moment she took Dani by the hand and asked if she wanted company while she waited for the darkness to consume her. 

Jamie rocks under her, making a softly desperate little noise into her mouth, and Dani has never felt so understood. Never quite put it together like this before. That Jamie thought she had to say it a certain way, show it a certain way, is wonderful and absurd and silly. 

“I like this problem,” she says. “Best problem I’ve ever had.”

***

“You like it?”

Jamie’s voice is too-casual. The kind of casual that says, look, if you don’t like it, I’ll understand, but I’ll spend the next six months going slowly crazy coping with that knowledge. Jamie gets this kind of “casual” only so often, and usually, Dani likes to string it along before reassuring her. It’s a little mean, maybe, but the way Jamie always sags against the nearest bit of furniture with a hand over her eyes, groaning, “Jesus Christ, Poppins, you could just be gentle with me” does something exceptionally pleasant to her stomach. 

This time, she’s not even thinking about teasing Jamie. 

This time, she’s just staring. 

“If you don’t like it,” Jamie says, a bit more hurriedly now, “you can say so. I mean. Can’t do much about it, truth be told, but we can work through the issue. Get into some couple’s therapy, talk it out...”

“Stop talking,” Dani says through a shockingly dry mouth. “Please.”

Jamie’s mouth swings shut with a little click. Dani rises from the chair she’d been curled in, feet tucked under as she flipped through a Stephen King novel that hit just a little too close to home. She moves across the living room like a sleepwalker. 

Jamie, expression somewhere between warily anticipatory and genuinely frightened, is still holding the hem of her shirt aloft. Dani pauses, swaying slightly, a magnetism rising between them that she sometimes thinks should fade with time, should logically become less as the years become more. For a long beat, they just look at one another. 

She’s sinking to her knees before she realizes, hand sliding up Jamie’s stomach to grasp her fingers, the shirt hem, clutch both tight. Jamie drags in a breath. 

“Oh. S’like that.”

“Apparently,” Dani mutters, closing her free hand around Jamie’s hip and pressing her mouth to the line of flowers rising from the band of her jeans, coiling around the left side of Jamie’s stomach. Jamie sucks in a breath. 

“Okay, when I was sitting for the thing, I certainly wasn’t thinking, Poppins has a thing for tattoos, but can’t say I’m complaining...”

“How long?” Dani asks, the words muffled around slow, deliberate kisses. Jamie rocks back on her heels, one hand sliding down into Dani’s hair for balance. 

“I know you are not asking me detail-oriented questions while you do that.”

Dani pauses, grins, waits. Jamie groans. 

“How long did it take, or how long have I wanted a bloody tattoo?”

“The latter.” The flowers are blue and white, strung along a twisting vine. Dani is presently making it her personal life goal to kiss each and every one, licking gently upward as she goes. Jamie’s eyes flutter, grip tightening. 

“You are a truly--”

“Tread wisely,” Dani murmurs, biting at her hipbone. Jamie inhales. 

“’Bout a year. Or maybe six weeks. Or maybe my whole life, I dunno, sometimes these things just sneak up on you.”

“Tattoos sneak up on you?” Dani tilts her head back, grinning. Jamie peers down at her, hair falling messily across her forehead, expression soft. 

“Wouldn’t be the first thing.”

She gets more as the years go on--little yellow daffodils, chains of wildflowers, small, carefully rendered roses--almost always in places easily hidden. Each time, the sight of ink on pale skin, the patient way Jamie quietly explains each one in bed, letting Dani map them out beneath curious palms, sets her heart racing in a way she can’t explain.

It’s the permanence, she thinks the day Jamie comes home with a small moonflower on her inner forearm. It’s the promise of the thing. 

It’s the tomorrow of it all. 

***

“How hard can it be to put together a bedframe, Dani,” she mimics. Even to her own ears, her voice is shrill. She’s making too big a deal out of this, and she knows it. 

But for fuck’s sake, sometimes Jamie is hard-headed. 

“I’ll have it done in an hour, Dani,” she goes on, hands windmilling above her head. “I know you’ve got a busy day, so just leave it to me, Dani.”

“Okay,” Jamie says, “okay, I know you’re upset, but in what world have I ever used your name that many times in a sitting?”

Dani freezes, turning slowly on her heel. Jamie takes a step back. 

“Right, correct, this is not the moment for glib.”

“Jamie,” Dani sighs. “You promised.”

“I did,” Jamie agrees, “and I could say I tried, but we both know how I feel about lying...”

The apartment is a little bigger than their last, and everything fits all different. Dani knows it’s going to be good for them--they outgrew the last place far sooner than either had wanted to admit, and this one has a beautiful view of a park. Plenty of space for Jamie’s ever-growing plant collection. Plenty of space for stretching out and warming the cozy little world they’ve built together. 

Still, it’s different, and different has a way of setting Dani’s teeth on edge. There’s something about a new home that reminds her of moving into Bly a lifetime ago--the exhilaration mixing with trepidation mixing with shadows she doesn’t yet know the names of. They've been here a week, sleeping in a blanket fort in the living room, Dani waking most mornings with carpet marks dug deep into her skin. She wants their room situated. She wants to sleep in their bed. 

She wants Jamie to build the damn frame like she promised three days ago. 

“I sometimes have trouble telling,” Jamie says, her accent thicker as it always is when she’s reasonably sure she’s stepped in it. “Am I actually in trouble?”

Dani sighs. “Jamie...”

“Oh.” Jamie edges closer. She’s dressed for battle, Dani notes, in shorts that barely qualify as legal and her softest flannel shirt. The very shirt, if Dani looks closely enough, Dani herself slipped into after a shower about two weeks ago and sent Jamie gaping at her like she’d been hypnotized. 

“Don’t,” Dani warns, remembering all too well the way Jamie had behaved the last time this shirt saw daylight. “Don’t, Jamie. I’m trying to be mad at you.”

“I can see that,” Jamie agrees. “You might say that’s why I’m making this desperate bid for, ahh, not being in the doghouse.”

“Jamie.” Dani manages to turn the word into about eleven syllables, which usually has some effect, but Jamie’s already within the proverbial walls. Her hands are riding up Dani’s ribcage, dangerously high, her smile the kind of charming only a heart of stone could resist. 

It’s cheating, and Jamie knows it, and Dani wants to point this out, but Jamie’s got her backed up against the mattress. The mattress that should be on a nice, well-made, sturdy frame. The mattress they could both be on top of right now, if only Jamie had just--if Jamie had--

“This is incredibly unfair,” she groans. Jamie, busy kissing her throat with slow, open-mouthed abandon, says nothing. Dani grasps at her shoulders with both hands, squeezing flannel between her fists, and lets her weight fall backward. Jamie holds her up, one hand up the back of her skirt, the other testing the resistance of her sweater. 

“You,” she gasps, even as Jamie moves a leg between her thighs and rocks gently, “are still in trouble.”

“Mmhmm,” Jamie agrees, a million miles away. She’s nipping at Dani’s earlobe now, and Dani can feel her grinning. 

“You are still putting the goddamn bed together, Jamie.”

“Sure,” Jamie says, husky, and presses her harder against the mattress. “Later.”

“Honestly, how do you do this every time?”

***

“You sure about this?” 

“Yes.” The answer is kind of actually no, but curiosity is getting the best of her. Anyway, it won’t be like before, the first time she ever tried to bum a cigarette off of Jamie and wound up nearly throwing up into the street. A couple of years and an indeterminate amount of cigarettes later, she’s got the art of it down, though she’s not what she’d call a smoker, per se. 

(She’s not, but try telling Jamie that. Just because she sometimes slips the cigarette from between Jamie’s fingers in a restaurant, or when they’re lounging outside after a long day, or in bed after a particularly effective round of Jamie getting herself out of trouble. Dani finds the act soothing, but only if Jamie has already lit up and taken a puff. Then and only then does it feel like sharing part of Jamie.)

“It’s different,” Jamie warns. “Not saying you can’t handle it, mind, but--”

“Just show me how it’s done, Jamie.”

This challenge, she utters in her lowest voice, and Jamie raises an eyebrow. “I see what you’re doing, Poppins.”

“What am I doing?”

Fact of the matter is, she’s having a very specific kind of day. The kind where her mind keeps drifting. The kind where memory feels heavier than it has in years. It’s not the first time she’s had a day this heavy, nor will it be the last, but it still bothers her. 

She hasn’t told Jamie. Doesn’t feel like she needs to, not yet. This doesn’t quite feel like beast-in-the-jungle territory so much as that old twisting panic, the old sense that she’s missing a test everyone else has studied for. When her mind edges her down this path, all she ever wants--all she can ever do about quieting it--is to hold close to Jamie. 

Jamie, who is giving her a searching look now, even as nimble fingers roll a joint.  “Sure you’re sure? Only, if you’re not up for it, I’m not going to judge.”

“Jamie. Do you trust me?”

Jamie’s mouth turns up at the corners. “Always.”

“Then get it started and hand it over.” She’s laughing a little, a nervous burble laugh that makes her feel more tethered to her own body. Jamie reaches over, closing a hand over her wrist and squeezing. 

“Your wish and all that, Poppins. But do me a favor? Go easy this time.”

She takes the first hit, and then a second, leaning back against the green granite counter and exhaling slowly toward the ceiling. For a minute, it’s enough for Dani just to watch her: relaxed posture in a long-sleeved black shirt, rolled to the elbows to give her more room to make a mess of dinner an hour previously. Her hair is getting longer, shaggier, her makeup reckless in that half-attention way Jamie has of barely caring what she looks like for anyone who isn’t Dani. 

“Your turn.” 

Dani takes her at her word this time, careful to draw a small amount of smoke into her lungs and hold there. Even so, she coughs once, a slow, clean burn sliding outward through her chest. Jamie nods approvingly.

“Did you grow this yourself?” she asks after another careful hit. She hands the joint back, letting her hip press against the counter an inch from Jamie’s. There’s a comfortable heat between them this evening, slow-simmer ease that makes her think of early days. She likes the lingering way Jamie rests her hand against Dani’s on the countertop, pinky finger lightly caressing the edge of her skin, like the world’s most comfortable seduction. 

“Nah,” Jamie says, with the joint between her lips. There’s something about the way she closes her eyes on the inhale, about the way her free hand never leaves Dani’s skin. Warmth works its way through her belly, and she thinks, bad day, maybe, but a good night. 

“Would you grow it?” It’s just something to say. She’s already starting to feel the smoke coiling around her thoughts, her head growing soft, buzzing gently around the edges. She imagines she can feel Jamie’s hand all the way through her body. 

“Not in our shop, if we wanted to keep the place.” Jamie’s eyes twinkle, the joint outstretched. “More?”

Dani shakes her head. The world is very slightly fuzzy, the kitchen warm, and Jamie has never felt more real. She watches Jamie carefully put out the lit end, setting the joint in an ashtray, liking the authority with which Jamie moves. 

She’s always like this, always so focused on the little details that make up a day. On days where Dani feels like she’s coming up from the ground in one horrible jerk, Jamie is always there to root her again. It’s a good feeling, knowing Jamie is there. Knowing Jamie is only getting more there with time. 

Later, she’ll look back on this as the moment. The one where she first decided to do it. The actual question, the actual plan, the actual ring won’t be here for years yet, but this is the moment the spark takes hold. 

It would be different, she decides, as her fingers curl like vines around Jamie’s, bringing their joined hands against her chest. It would be so different than last time. No push. No expectation. Just a promise. Just us. 

She likes being high with Jamie, she decides very quickly. Likes how it makes Jamie’s already-firm confidence firmer. Likes how it makes her already-sensitive skin buzz with pleasure. Likes the way Jamie folds her against the counter, hands gentle on the back of her head, and kisses her like it’s the first time. 

She’s all exposed nerve and heavy limb and giggle as Jamie leads her to the bedroom, eases her down, cups her face between soft hands. For once, the shadows seem to work in her favor, curling around them as they move together, as cloth becomes skin, and she’s sighing, sighing, crying Jamie’s name into the darkness. 

Jamie said once, a lifetime ago, that sometimes you have to drop everything too heavy to carry in order to hang on to one another. Jamie said it with such intensity, it didn’t even cross Dani’s mind to think of it another way. That, if you’re going to march into the dark, having a hand to hold as you go can make all the difference in the world.

The lights are on, for now. The lights are on, and Jamie holds her so tight with hands so soft, and Dani knows it’s not forever. Can sense it, like you sense the return of a childhood bad dream. Can feel it, shifting below the surface. 

Maybe closer now. Maybe a little bit more awake than before. She can’t say for sure. 

What she can say is that a night like this--kissing her way down Jamie’s chest, kissing flowers and bellybutton and that spot just above her hip that makes her writhe with laughter--is a torch. A ward against the monsters. A little light to carry them through the dark. 

She’s got Jamie on her skin, in her mouth, imprinted on her soul, and she thinks it’s the best anyone can ask for. The only thing anyone can hope for. 

And when Jamie clutches her hand right back, flashes that I’m-out-of-trouble smile, drapes one of her worn flannel shirts around Dani’s bare shoulders, she thinks, as long as I can have this. As long as she’ll have me. The shadows can’t possibly swallow me whole. 

[onelastbreath-writes]

I Spy (2)

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary (lite): You literally fall for a guy you meet in a bar, and everything is going great until you learn both of you have been lying about who you are and what you do. Oof. (SpecOps&Spies AU with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Wow part one got a lot of love, thank you so much! And now I also have a taglist going for this fic, so let me know if you want to be tagged the next time I post. This chapter is basically just fluff with a bit of background plot,,, i’ve created both a slow burn, and a 100 metre sprint of a relationship for y’all, so be prepared for that. Depending on what I manage to get into the next chapter, aka if i can finish the story or if i wimp out, there will either be 3 or 4 chapters total, and if i like the universe enough I might have some bonus content in the future. Nothing is set in stone so don’t start counting your chickens yet, but like... maybe. Anyways, I hope you enjoy part 2 of Let Me Have Nice Things I Spy <3

PS it is 3:45am when I’m posting this, please forgive me if its actually just weird thnxxxx

[AO3A][Masterlist]

[Previous Part]

---

“Water with a wedge of lemon, please,” you ordered as you and Frankie claimed a bar stool each at the counter.

“And a coke for me, thank you.”

The drink offer was always a toss up for you; a good way to measure the type of guy interested in your company. Even if you hadn’t decided that you were done with the alcohol tonight, you would still have ordered a water on your date’s dime. It was a simple test of character that more than a few guys had failed in the past. Were they looking to get you drunk, or were they willing to respect your choices? Frankie, so far, had done nothing but respect you.

Your drinks arrive quickly, and the cool glass feels refreshing in your hands. You still feel warm from your brief contact with the handsome man beside you, but after peaking at him from the side of your eyes, you can see that his ears and cheeks also have some red to them as well.

Frankie accepts his glass and angles himself towards you, bumping his knee lightly to yours and offering you another sweet smile. “Would it be presumptuous of me to offer a cheers? To meeting new people? Or I’ve got some great, really catchy and not at all cheesy pick-up lines, if that’s more your style?”

You snorted a laugh at his teasing but held out your drink for him to clink his against, “To meeting new people, then. And please, I have extremely high standards so only your best lines will appease me.”

“Ah, a connoisseur! Well then, please prepare to be amazed,” Frankie swivelled around to fully face you, ran a hand through his hair, fluffing his curls and pushing them away from his face, and cleared his throat for dramatic effect. “You blinded me with your beauty, so I’m going to need your name and number for insurance purposes.”

Your plan was to hold out, not to crack against whatever corny, horribly cliché thing he was going to say to you. You’d been given them all, and had never had much trouble before, even with guys as attractive and cute as Frankie. You had a great poker face, and could keep yourself together like a pro. There was nothing he could say to you that would break your façade. And then he opened his mouth, and you were gone.

“Oh my god! That’s so bad!” You were shaking, gasping while trying to contain and smother your laughter. You hadn’t thought to put your drink down before he started, and you could feel the liquid sloshing around the glass in your hand. Frankie, thankfully, noticed your problem, and gently wrapped his fingers around your wrist to steady your grasp. He helped you set the drink down safely, before pulling your still jittering limb away from further potential accidents. And then, he just didn’t release you.

He had slipped his hand into yours and was running his thumb over your knuckles.

As if your cheeks weren’t warm enough already.

What is it with this guy? You just couldn’t catch a break.

“Okay?” Can I keep holding your hand?

“Yes,” Please don’t let me go.

---

“And so, we’re just, like, full-tilt sprinting to catch this last train. And of course, its raining cats and dogs, so the sidewalk is slippery as hell, and Santi’s down a shoe so he’s splashing around in his sock, and then we hit the stairs up to the platform, and the train is pulling out…” You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled so much but listening to Frankie’s stories about his friends and their misadventures was making your cheeks ache.

You had been trading stories for ages, back and forth and jumping all over your lives to tell each other your greatest hits. Something between you two had just clicked, and it felt like you’d known him forever.

Early in the conversation you’d discovered he was his buddies’ designated driver, and would be on non-alcoholic beverages all night, but offered you anything you would like if you wanted more than water. You’d of course thanked him, but refused, stating your own reasons for sobriety. And that’s the point you got into talking about your careers.

“The guys wanted to get wasted during shore leave, and I’m not big on drinking so I offered to be their ride this time.” He was rather adorably touchy-feely with you, currently playing with your fingers and drawing on your palm absentmindedly.

“Shore leave? So, you’re military then?” That would explain the callouses and healed scars on his hands that you’d also been acquainting yourself with.

“Army, yeah,” Frankie had pointed out his group of hooligans across the room, playing what he’d told you was ‘Extreme Darts’. “Me and Santi were best friends in high school and enlisted together, and then we met Will and Benny in basic training. We worked together well enough to get us assigned to Tom’s squad and the rest’s history.”

“Then you’re still on active duty, right?” You couldn’t say you knew much about how a military contract worked, beyond what you’d seen in movies and on TV, but you knew soldiers were required to do a certain amount of service before they could retire; baring career-ending events that would get them discharged, of course. “When does shore leave end?”

“Ah, that’s a little complicated to explain, actually. We’re technically active soldiers still, but after our last deployment ended, we signed back on as like, uh, contractors. Sort of like on-base reservists? We help out where we can but don’t really see much in-field work, you know?” He was definitely struggling to describe his job to you, and you could imagine there was a lot of red tape and confidentiality around anything military he was doing, so you just nodded along and let him drop it. “But we still have a couple weeks stateside before we ship back out.”

You hummed at that, thinking over your own known schedule. “I can’t say I’ll have much time off before you need to leave, but I would like to see more of you, if you’re agreeable?” There was something special about this guy, and whether you were just friends or something more eventually, you didn’t want to waste your opportunity to have him in your life. Long distance anything was a lot of work, but you wanted him to know you were willing to try if he was.

“Do you like raisins? How would you feel about a date?”

---

That was how your unconventional romance with Frankie Morales started. You’d talked all night, and when the bartender kicked you and your groups out at closing time, he and his friends helped get your girls into their cabs. And once they were all taken care of, he had offered you his arm and walked you to your car like a proper, posh gentleman.

“Goodnight, paloma, thank you for such a wonderful evening.”

You had given him your business card, personal phone number and a flirty call me xx written on the back, and he in turn lifted your hand to brush a delicate kiss to your knuckles with a teasing wink. You went home that night mildly concerned you’d spontaneously combust from the heat blazing through your body. That man was a menace, and he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

He had called the next evening, and from there you spent as much time as you could together. Coffee dates, dinner and movie nights, even a walk in the park like some fairy-tale couple; he always greeted you with a bad pick-up line to make you smile, and a left you with a kiss on the hand at the end of your outings.

It was three wonderful but short weeks later that he got his ship-out date.

You were back at the dive bar where it all started, your friend (and some of her friends) and his all together again, to celebrate their last night of leave. The bar had unofficially become your ‘spot’, and you’d visited a few more times over the weeks, both as private dates and as group activities to get to know the rest of his squad.

It was bittersweet, saying goodbye to your new friends and your, well, Frankie. You had both agreed not to put labels or promises into your relationship until you were sure, and you were fine with that in the beginning when you were still strangers just interested in spending time together. But now you knew him, now you had feelings to back up your attraction to him, and now, he was leaving for who knows how long and you didn’t know if he felt the same way about you.

He must have noticed something was upsetting you, because he excused himself from his buddies’ conversation and held out a hand to help you up out of your chair.

“Join me for some fresh air, hermosa?” He was as courteous as ever as he led you outside into the chilled night, offering you his jacket and his side to cuddle into when you shivered. He was good at reading you by now and could tell when you wanted to work up to saying something without prompting, so he stayed silent and let you organize your thoughts.

You were struggling with your plan, with what you wanted to say to him, ask of him. He was rubbing your shoulder and you reached up to lace your fingers together, remembering the first time you held hands here at the bar…

Please don’t let me go.

That was your answer then, and it was still your answer now. You wanted him to keep holding your hand, now and for however much longer he could. You just needed to tell him that. Easy peasy. And because he’d made a sentimental dork out of you with his unending lines, you couldn’t think of a better way to confess to him. You looked up and met his eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in them.

“I must be a snowflake, because I’ve fallen for you.”

He untangled your fingers from his, pulling his arm away from where it was draped warmly over your shoulders, and took a step back to face you head on.

Oh gods, you wanted to rewind time and stop yourself from opening your big mouth, I’ve ruined it all.

Frankie snagged both of your wrists in his hands, startling you out of your downwards spiral as he tugged you close to his chest. He was staring down at you, brows furrowed and lips pursed seriously. Your hands were pressed between you, resting against his sternum over his steadily beating heart.

“Feel my shirt. It’s made of boyfriend material.”

And then you were both gone, laughing so hard you had tears in your eyes and grins splitting your faces as you held each other close.

You hadn’t ruined anything after all; you could cry you were so relieved.

Once you’d both managed to settle down, he leaned in and rested his forehead against yours, his own shiny eyes meeting yours earnestly. “I’m a terribly selfish man to ask this of you, but would you wait for me? Will you give us a chance? Exclusively?”

“Yes.”

Your first kiss together was there, on that cold night outside the bar where everything changed. It was soft and sweet, and you couldn’t wait for more.

---

Taglist:

@playbucky​

[miraculouscontent]

Ask Explo--

...you know what, you’re right. Name change effective immediately.

Askplosion #10:

(unrelated to everything by the way but I DEMAND THE ANON WHO MENTIONED “REMARRIED EMPRESS” A WHILE BACK COME FORTH AND ANSWER FOR THEIR CRIMES. IT’S SO GOOD BUT IT’S UNFINISHED AND I’M HOOKED, HOW DARE YOU)

Asks responding to previous posts:

It’s okay! I figured that was what it was but it’s been so loooong.

Ah, wow.

Um, that’s definitely not a part 2; I think that’s more like a four-parter/five-parter or something.

Sorry! No can do!

That’s totally fair!

I think the reason I so quickly agreed with it is like--

I’ve been watching the Inuyasha sequel and it’s not like I don’t think the narrative’s apparent punching bag Moroha (who is fourteen years old) shouldn’t be punished when she does something wrong/sneaky/manipulative, but they punish her as if she’s Miroku (who was eighteen years old).

Basically, I want the punishment to take the age into account, or at least only affect Marinette on a more personal level and not be “Heart Hunter” where they take totally understandable feelings of heartache (remember, it wouldn’t have mattered which miraculous she took because Hawk Moth got the Miracle Box and Fu regardless; even beyond her emotions, I feel like she chose the best option available to her considering which temps she knew the location of) and then punish her for them by memory wiping Fu and taking away all of her temps and giving Hawk Moth the grimoire translation.

Yes!! I really wanted to respond to this one, thank you! (It’s this one and then there was another one talking about Luka and Adrien, then talked to me about how I refer to Luka as “soft” but not in a bad way; I unfortunately don’t remember the whole thing.)

Ahaha, and yeah, I feel you. Anti-salters are a very strange conundrum I still haven’t figured out; like, I get not liking salt, but...

I mean, when I don’t like certain content, I just blacklist it. If I end up seeing it anyway due to cross-tagging or a lack of tagging, then I just blacklist the person themself. You won’t see me going after people for that very reason; I only see what people send/ask me if it’s content I don’t like.

I’m glad you’ve found some peace in this blog! Hopefully it continues to be that way for you in the future!

(and yay, a fellow INTJ!!)

New Asks:

There are female writers? ;P I just assumed they were all locked in a closet until the male ones were like, “okay, pretend to help us here, we need one female writer to claim girl power.”

As for Ladybug all like, “Cute, isn’t she?” I think it was rhetorical (she could also be messing with him but “Glaciator” tells us that she didn’t know he crushed on her so who knows). The writers do this thing where Marinette is all panic-y and occasionally self-conscious as herself, but then as Ladybug, she suddenly gets a bit of an ego. I think it’s meant to be there in order to make Chat Noir look less... idk, “obnoxious” when he starts boosting his own ego; trying to balance the two by giving them both big heads, so to speak.

Honestly, I feel like Adrien needs less screen time. :|

Even when he’s not on-screen, characters are usually talking about him, or you see his face in Marinette’s room/somewhere in Paris. I’m become so jaded by the guy that I don’t even think it’d matter if they remade the series and gave it a “totally good and interesting Adrien.” That’s how badly the show has made him out for me; “Adrien Agreste” the character is just... sigh, I’m so done with him.

And yeah, this whole idea about, “Marinette is [x], we need more AAAAAADRIEN!” comes off really bad, lol, especially when Adrien has very little going for him.

(this ask ends off like there should be a part 2 but there isn’t one in my inbox, so sorry if there’s meant to be something else!)

The exact lyrics according to the wiki:

My wish for a cat who's in love, with our own Ladybug. Is that he'll get what he's always wanted! She doesn't know she loves him, only sees Adrien, But Christmas miracles always happen!

Yeah, especially nowadays, those lines bothers me. Not only does it imply “true selves,” but that it’s Chat who should be getting what he always wanted and Ladybug is the one with a problem.

Like, excuse me?

Probably Stormy Weather, even in the first episode. Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn’t even touch her until they arrived on top of the TV station.

+ With all those effects and shots, it made it feel more action-y than typical episodes.

Marinette, Aurore, Luka, Anarka, Jagged...

basically any name that I haven’t really heard before (”Luka” makes me think of Vocaloid but the Luka there was female), or a name that relates a lot to the character (like “Aurore” for “aurora” since she loves weather things).

dfjbghfkdgfdgnjfdg this anon really like, “I NEED ANSWERS!!!”

It’s as if these characters hit 18 or something and just grow overnight, I swear. I’m hypothetically fine with some more variety in character height (it’s not like the show tries to be realistic, after all), but maybe don’t give us official heights if they’re gonna be this weird/inaccurate.

Especially when they change it just for the sake of a shot anyway. If you watch “Simon Says” when Ladybug and Adrien stand next to each other while looking at the picture of Adrien’s mother, the very next close-up has an obvious difference in their heights from what you just saw.

They’re 3D models!!! This shouldn’t happen!

I... honestly never thought of the “less threatening” thing! Dang!

And yeah, Marinette isn’t helpless or incompetent, but because of the Adrien crush, it makes her that way at times since she’s always falling on him and--

...ugh, actually, yeah, don’t wanna think about those implications. Hard pass.

Gross.

I’m not familiar with that one, though Astruc deletes his tweets all the time (there was one tweet where he confirmed that Luka was poor and it only exists in screenshots now because it didn’t get archived and he deleted it almost like he realized that he was pointing out the blatant classism in the show, oops).

Yeah though, I haven’t seen anything like what you’re describing. Sorry!

It’s okay! Sorry for having you clarify but him choosing and Marinette deciding to never give it back are very different things.

I don’t recall Chat Noir having much purpose in the final fight (in terms of both contributing and actual fighting; I know Cataclysm broke the object to release the akuma but was it needed?) so Marinette might either go cat-less or get a temp. Plagg could also be helpful in his own right because he’s small and blends in with the night, so he could hypothetically sneak up on the bad guy.

Afterwards, there’d need to be a new cat, but Adrien would also have to reconsider his actions and really think about what happened. I could also see Plagg going to Adrien’s house, half to apologize for giving the idea to Adrien that Adrien leave without telling Ladybug, but also half to call him out for giving up without consulting anyone. Adrien is a lot of conflicting things (see Adrien’s passivity compared to Chat Noir’s recklessness) so he’d have to find a middle ground within himself.

Marinette might carry Plagg around in her purse for a while and let Plagg have a say in who he goes to. Plagg might grieve for a bit over not having Adrien around (even if Adrien was flawed, Plagg didn’t ask for any of this so Marinette is doing her best here).

O-oh.

That’s always the rough patch with “endgame ships.”  Once it’s obvious to the audience that they’re endgame, no more effort needs to be put into them.

The other thing too is how Kagami, for example, is friends with Marinette. Even once Adrimi sinks, she’ll presumably stay friends with her. Luka, meanwhile, is Juleka’s brother.

They have lives outside of their love interests. Adrien is so into Ladybug that he doesn’t have that; I mean, Nino is Adrien’s best friend like once in a blue moon.

The entire class is just watching an episode and then calling on raised hands to answer what was wrong with what they just watched.

“Everything?”

“I mean, yes, but I’m sorry, you have to be more specific to get credit.”

I think Aeon herself is fine. It’s mostly just her transformed and that transformed name that I have a problem with (she doesn’t even look uncanny so I don’t get it). I heard there was something wrong with the name “Aeon” but searching the name doesn’t give me anything I would qualify as such so I have no idea. I just wish she was given a little less “I’m programmed to--” (makes her seem less sentient) and more “[anything that doesn’t have to do with pushing the love square]” because I feel like they might’ve done the latter to make her more “likable”? I think fans of anything usually like the “matchmaker” character provided it’s for a ship they like. Also strange that they make her a robot but Max and Markov don’t extensively interact with her, but that’s a nitpick and not a criticism of her character.

...I’m rambling, my bad lol.

(Ohhh, she was supposed to be a mummy? Like, foreshadowing her “dying”?? That went right over my head but I guess that’d be where the name Uncanny Valley came from? No clue.)

Best case scenario is probably the middle or the end of Season 4.

And yeah, it really doesn’t matter to me what they do with the love square. Marinette had gone through too much suffering and the show goes out of its way to show how much stress Marinette is being put under (and also keeping Luka away during episodes like “Gamer 2.0″ even when it makes sense for them to be there, as if trying to make sure Marinette doesn’t have enough moments with him to forget Adrien).

Like, ah, yes, I totally believe that Marinette is in a position where she can make reasonable decisions about her love life while all circles of her life are on fire.

If the Sonic movie of all things can have an interracial couple, there’s no reason why this show can’t, just saying.

And, even with Marinette, she’s white-passing (according to what basically everyone says, I’m really awful about recognizing race so this isn’t my field; I wasn’t aware that Ondine was Asian, for example).

Does Nadja count? Manon’s dark-skinned (I’m still not over the fact that all the kids in this show are dark-skinned; it’s not like it’s a problem from a representation standpoint - though all the kids are also all generically bratty/whiny so there’s that - but the percentages in this show are weird) while Nadja is really light-skinned, meaning either a dark-skinned husband or Manon is adopted.

Though I guess the problem then is that we don’t know, so there’s no established couple there.

Non-Miraculous Asks:

w-who gave you the right to say such things????

Uhhhh, that might be too broad of a question, I’m sorry!

I know this isn’t satisfactory, but I will say that my favorite genre is Fantasy/Romance (it’s why I adore Red Shoes so much; by the way, an anon asked for my opinion on that a while back and I will get to it! I’d need to watch it again to get screenshots) and my least favorite is probably Tragedy/Horror.

I don’t think I’ve watched enough to really be able to say? I’ve kind of been all over but I’ve never fully gone through any of them outside of Miraculous. I’ve seen bits of Sailor Moon, Tokyo Mew Mew, Star VS the Forces of Evil (don’t know if that counts), and I meant to watch Yuki Yuna is a Hero but never got around to it. I saw the entirety of Puella Magi Madoka Magica but you guys know how I feel about that one.

Maybe Cardcaptor Sakura by default then? It was definitely not perfect but I liked some of the character dynamics (I also have a clipcut of it - basically where I go through a series/movie and cut out parts I don’t like so it’s only good stuff - so I’m cheating a little) and the male love interest was a tsundere type that I actually ended up liking, which is really rare.

!!! That sounds sweet~ I know Sailor Moon is popular so I’ll definitely take your word for it on that one.

I would also accept a “reincarnated”/”destined lovers” trope if maybe the ship themselves are the one who set it up in the first place. I have a Lukanette AU, for example, where they basically got together and then prayed to the shrine of the renewal god that they’d “always be together,” which ended up allowing them to reincarnate over and over (as if they set up their own soulmate AU ;P) and continuously find each other.

Though I guess that’s not technically a “meant to be trope,” but still, it’s a form of it but where it was totally consensual on both sides.

Also, I finally thought of a show that ended with the ship I wanted: Gargoyles. I didn’t see the entire series, mind you, but I saw most of it and Goliath and Elisa were just... quality, I adored them.

+ With Beauty and the Beast being my favorite Disney movie, they fit right in with my tastes.

I forget that AangToph (I think the “official” name for the ship is Taang, but don’t quote me on that) exists sometimes, maybe because I’ve never shipped Aang with anyone; I’ve got no problems with the ship though.

Ugh, and this is what I mean when I talk about people who set up these reasons behind people shipping something based on what they saw a few people do. It’s like, “you only ship Adrimi/Lukanette to spite Adrienette!!”

Meanwhile, me having shipped all three at one point and then dropped off the love square.

Also, me shipping Zutara has nothing to do with it being dark/edgy because I’ve never seen it that way (intriguing, sure but dark and edgy? lol) and also avoid dark/edgy ships like the plague.

I still laugh at people who are like, “you can’t ship it because it’s not endgaaaaame!” as if shows can dictate how and why I enjoy something. Like sure, if you want to let a show/movie spoonfeed you how you’re supposed to feel, then by all means, go ahead.

I suppose people may be theoretically happier that way, but it doesn’t make for an analytic mind.

I legitimately thought that “AssClass” must’ve been the actual name for something until it registered with me what it actually meant.

And eh, I guess it depends on the comparison and how accurate the comparison actually is? Like, comparing Puella Magic Madoka Magica to Miraculous... they’re not really close at all, but comparing... idk, Bunnyx to Homura or the concept behind “backfiring wishes”... maybe?

-

(note that the rest of this post is more Puella Magi Madoka Magica salt so you can stop reading here if you’re not interested in that; I’m not sure if this is all the same anon but I don’t mind letting people vent so I let them go off~)

why can’t we just have nice things

I agree, and I give a little eyeroll every time it’s like, “oh, this person had [miraculous]”

+ even just in general, I feel weird about any show that mentions/implies that real world famous people are [x] or [y] in their show. It breaks my immersion; real world locations are one thing but when it’s specific people (unless they’re made up characters like Santa Claus) or games just--break me.

I also don’t know what to think when there aren’t magical boys but you have these magical girls in this frilly outfits/skirts. The demographic is girls so I presume the reason must be like, “you can look pretty and still beat people up” (;P) but having so many magical girl shows without a hint of a magical boy makes me suspicious that it’s for fanservice. Sailor Moon has Tuxedo Mask but I also don’t know what that guy did outside of the meme of him doing nothing so I’ve got no clue.

(edit: I should correct myself that I’m not talking about Sailor Moon specifically; I don’t know magical girls that well, though I do know there are ones clearly intended for fanservice (you could say that for anything, to be fair, but still). It’s just that I see things like super short skirts or very “questionable” shots and I’m just like, “hm”)

Hmmm, good question. I feel like there has to be a lot but I’m also the type who doesn’t watch a lot of TV lol. I’m just familiar with cliches and tropes and such.

The reason I try not to use “ism”s of any kind is mostly because it’s too broad. Like, you know how the English language only has one way of saying, “I love you,” but other languages like Spanish have multiple?

It’s like that, and sometimes I think it’s too easy to throw those words out there. A “small” (possibly completely unintentional/misunderstood) offense is sexism, and then a “large” offense is called the exact same thing. I’d rather go into why something is sexist than just call it that, y’know? The only exception I make is “classism” because I feel like that’s not as... I dunno, divisive?

Anyway, for that same reason, I can’t answer firmly that, “Madoka Magica is sexist.” I will however say that it makes me uncomfortable with how the show makes out the girls being emotional because they’re young and female and then proceeds to make their life a living hell before they’re old enough to properly answer to it (I know that’s the point but that kind of makes it worse?). It doesn’t help with how all the girls have different personalities, so it’s not like you have only “crybaby girls” who are being taken advantage of; it’s basically like... all girls.

Not helped is the fact that their soul gem not only deteriorates naturally, but it can also do so faster if the girl falls into despair, which then turns them into a monster (and I know it’s kind of like an akuma thing, but the fact that it’s only girls is... I dunno, it comes off wrong?). It seems cheap that the soul gem deteriorates no matter what so it constantly needs fed even if the girl is consistently happy.

I would probably opt for the show being centered more around Kyubey being new to this or something - like, magical girls are a new thing - and then have Kyubey being surprised because they presumed that the soul gem would deteriorate naturally since “emotions are powerful but destructive to the person having them,” but then all the girls team up and help each other work out their problems. Maybe the reason magical girls are usually alone isn’t even because of the grief seed (I think that’s what it’s called?) thing not being able to be shared, but because Kyubey intentionally separates magical girls so they can’t do what the main group is doing, but Madoka is so into the idea that, “We shouldn’t have to be alone,” and so she’s constantly pulling all the girls together, which keeps them healthy.

Maybe Homura’s backstory could be that Madoka originally was more sheepish and more afraid to put herself out there, especially since she was a magical girl (who are encouraged to go it alone), which is why their soul gems were both deteriorating; they were friends but kept more of a distance, or maybe they were a team but that’s all they were. Then Madoka gives Homura the last grief seed to save her and that’s what inspires Homura and makes her see Madoka as something more than a teammate, which is why Homura actively tries to save Madoka specifically (which then encourages Madoka to want to keep everyone together as friends).

In the case that Kyubey doesn’t separate them out of concern of fRiEnDsHiP, but for another reason altogether, and then it’s ultimately their own downfall when they allow the girls to hang out and realize that it’s doing a lot of good for them.

“cute and innocent”

That was exactly it. It’s on Kyubey’s trivia section on the Puella Magi Madoka Magica Wiki.

Before the anime's first dark plot twist aired, head writer Gen Urobuchi said on his Twitter account that the "Kyu" in Kyubey's name comes from the English word "cute". This was a lie meant to further mislead fans into thinking that Madoka Magica is an innocent happy show. In a later episode, it was revealed that "Kyubey" is, in fact, short for "incubator".

In my personal opinion, a spoiled plot can’t be “ruined” if it’s a good plot. If you told me that Kagome was trapped in the Modern era for three years and then decided to stay with Inuyasha at the end of Inuyasha, it wouldn’t/shouldn’t decrease the value when I finally see it for myself because it’s good. That’s not to say that everything should just be spoiled right out of the gate, but it’s saying that maybe your plot isn’t good if you have to rely on shock value to make it work??

I FEEL THAT “ASSIGNING IT TO THE WHOLE GENDER” THING SO BAD. It just adds to my “the girls all have varying personalities so it’s not like Kyubey’s only after emotional crybabies or anything” salt.

I have no idea about any of the stuff about the writers so I can’t confirm or deny them. I will very much agree on the target audience thing though, especially with the whole “keeping the dark plot a secret” because really? Who is this for then? Like, the first two and a half episodes are for one demographic and then the others are--???

I dunno. Me personally, I just like feel good stories. I do like some good conflict and drama (for context, Remarried Empress is basically a webtoon that gives you things to feel salty about and then makes its own salt fic as its plot, allowing for endless streams of feels and catharsis, so I’m definitely not against drama), but there are other times where I just want to feel good watching something.

I feel like the show expects the characters to be selfless/perfect and then punishes them even though it’s their writing that’s causing them to act out. I can’t really talking about “out-of-character” but sometimes it’s just obvious where “we did this because we needed a plot/conflict.”

Like, hello? We don’t need the main characters screwing up; why can’t we just have some feel good thing where they take the day for themselves (seriously, imagine a Miraculous episode where Chat Noir actually tells Ladybug to take a couple days for herself, like maybe someone else gets the earrings for a few days as a temp while Marinette gets to breathe; IMAGINE IT). Not everything needs to be high-stakes to be interesting and you need those calmer moments so that the action-packed ones feel more intense.

SAYAKA DESERVES BETTER.

I feel like the magical girl genre as a whole can be way more complex than it’s made out to be. I think people hear the word “magical girl” and think “cute girls in short skirts talk about girl problems and fight evil with the power of friendship and accessories.”

Ugh, just the mention of Rebellion makes me sigh internally.

Congrats on working on your own magical girl story! I hope it goes well for you!

I know it’s not technically a magical girl show, but there was also Totally Spies that Astruc worked on to some degree (I think there was some characters who were based on/a loose reference to the mains from that show but I don’t remember exactly).

The thing about the female characters suffering is that they could make for good lessons on positively directing one’s emotions (like Usagi from Sailor Moon, for example, maybe having a problem with taking her anger out on her friends, but learns that she can save that rage for the bad guys; “Gamer 2.0″ from Miraculous could’ve done that, honestly, by having Ladybug absolutely WRECK all of her gaming opponents in “violent” (cartoon violence obviously) fashion). It’s just a shame that it’s not taken advantage of.

Sayaka??? Selfish???????

*does not compute*

(Also, I wasn’t tired of them, don’t worry! It was a little overwhelming in my inbox but it’s me who’s allowing all the asks to flow in so the blame isn’t on you lol.)

I’m not sure where this obsession came from with, “you have to be selfless and you’re not allowed to use your powers for yourself.” It’s like the world’s going to end if a character leaves to go Self-Care or something. I think what happened is that shows got this idea that promoting only the giving of others is great and it’s not important to take time for yourself (even with “Gamer 2.0,” it was still Marinette playing games with everyone else, and they treated her dedication and seriousness like a bad thing when she literally did not have time to waste and they didn’t give a reason why it was good for her to take a break, only that she should).

This usually leads to the “demonization” of characters who sport a lot of self-confidence or any sort of ego. It works on both sides; Marinette is a punching bag because of her anxiety and occasional lack of confidence, but if she had an ego as Ladybug, there are parts of the fandom who deem her “obnoxious” (i.e: “Reflekdoll”). There’s a delicate balance between “be confident” and “be humble” and it’s a tightrope act.

[tyunniverse]

FRIENDS FOR A DAY (2)

pair: yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2654

parts: 1 | 2

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

It had been a long time since Yeonjun felt like this. Sometimes life in general had become too much to bear and the things that used to make him happy weren't working for him anymore. Times spent alone slowly became more frequent for him than times he'd spent with his friends.

He'd skipped the first day, not wanting to go back to that routine life just yet. And towards the start of the day, he would never have imagined meeting you and getting to spend the day doing things that strayed far from any of the schedules he'd previously planned. A breath of fresh air was what he liked to call it, and he had you to thank for that.

Unlike him, everything was new to you; a new city, a new school, new people, and a whole new life ahead. Yeonjun felt a little envious after realizing it when you'd talked more about yourselves during lunch, but after seeing how you seemed to enjoy every single second of your little sight seeing endeavor, he thought that maybe he could also be a part of something new in your life.

Best friends.

You had agreed to be his best friend from today onwards; the pendant around your neck serving as proof. Yeonjun finds his hand wandering over to his pocket, holding on to his old necklace.

Half of a star. He'd bought it a few years back. The necklace had a similar purpose with the one he was wearing now— meant to be worn separately by two different people. In his case, he had bought it as a whole and had decided to keep one half of it still in its case, stashed inside his closet. His reasons for purchasing it never really felt clear even to him but he also wouldn't call it an impulsive decision. Yeonjun liked to think that he'd be able to find a use for it in the future.

"Yeonjun." You call for his attention, pointing at the posters plastered on a random shop's wall. "It says that the annual carnival will be opening tonight. Wanna go?"

Yeonjun grins. Opportunities somehow kept showing up right in front of his doorstep. "Yeah, only if you want to though. Afterall, I'm only the tour guide for today."

"Shut up." You hold back a smile. "Have you been there before?"

Yeonjun repeats the question in his mind. As someone one would consider pretty popular, you'd expect him to be no stranger in hanging out at fun places like an annual carnival, but that's just it. Yeonjun had never visited that Carnival once ever since it opened. His friends had asked him to tag along but something about it just never seemed to make him want to.

"No." Yeonjun answers, scratching the back of his head. "If we end up going then this would be my first time too." The first time he'd actually wanted to go.

"I guess we're going then." You grin and Yeonjun finds himself smiling back. "It says here that the Carnival's just around the corner so it'd probably be okay if we just walked there."

"Yeah."

The two of you make your way to the Carnival. You still had a good amount of time left before it opened so a few quick stops at some stalls along the way didn't do any harm.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

In all honesty, Yeonjun didn't even know when and how he'd ended up holding your hand, laughing his heart off by the time you arrived at the entrance but it all just happened somehow. Was it the when your ice cream cone almost landed straight on his shoe earlier? Or when his hand nearly hit you square in the face when he noticed a bug flying towards you? It could've even been when a group of old ladies started hitting on him at the handbag boutique and all you did was stand there shaking, wanting to laugh your ass off.

No matter what the reason was, he liked this. Somehow, it just felt right.

The two of you pay for the tickets before heading inside. The place was larger than any of you had ever expected, cleaner too. People of all ages were enjoying their carnival experience to the fullest. Children were running around with their guardians following closely behind, couples and groups of friends chatting along and taking pictures— Yeonjun could swear he saw two old men arguing over who gets to take a picture with the mascot first.

"So, which ride do you wanna go on first?" You ask, turning to him.

"Well, how about that one." Yeonjun points at the viking and you feel yourself getting more and more excited.

"NICE—" Before Yeonjun knew it, you were dragging him around to every single ride at the carnival.

You liked to keep count of everytime Yeonjun freaked out while you went on the rides, and Yeonjun liked to do the same. Despite the thrill of being at a carnival keeping you hyped up, there were a few times when you had overestimated your tolerance with being thrown around. Yeonjun nearly puked twice: once at the twister, and a second time on the rollercoaster. Even you were almost a victim by the rollercoaster's loops.

Yeonjun had claimed he was an expert at navigating haunted house attractions, stating, "I've been watching horror movies all my life. Nothing scares me at this point, tbh." True enough, nothing scared Yeonjun except every single ominous decoration and jump scares the haunted house threw at him. You weren't too fond of horror yourself, but you ended up trying to be the brave one after Yeonjun basically clung to you half of the time. It didn't help whenever you freaked out since you ended up losing Yeonjun after he not so subtly abandons you at the slightest suspicious sound. It was a miracle you made it out in one piece.

"Yeah, so, uh, sorry about that." Yeonjun laughs it off the moment you two got out.

"Sure but you should know that I'm never gonna let you live it down." You tell him, smiling widely as you hold up the photos you received from one of the staff. "I got evidence."

Yeonjun snatches the photos from your hands. "Bold of you to assume these'll affect me— oh." It definitely did.

You watch as he slips the photos inside his jacket as if it wasn't obvious enough that he was trying to hide it from you. "Nice try but," You take out another batch of photos and wave it around. "Boom. Two copies."

"Wow, okay."

The two of you ended up laughing at each other before you suggest in trying out the stalls. They say time flies by fast when you're having fun and they couldn't be more right. There had been an unspoken competition between you and Yeonjun of who can win the most prizes and let's just say you weren't about to let yourself lose. By the time you got tired, you had a total of three plushies and a bunch of candy bars stuffed in your pockets and well, Yeonjun had the exact amount of prizes you had.

"Fine. It's a draw for now but only because I'm tired." Yeonjun holds the plushies tighter. "We should really get a bag for this. I wonder if we can get a huge plastic bag somewhere."

"Nah, we can just put em in here." You take off your back pack, opening it wide. "I'm sure it can fit all six of them. They're small enough." You were lucky that they did, finally leaving your hands free.

"Wait." Yeonjun pauses after putting the last of his plushies inside. "How can I be sure you won't just take my plushies for yourself after we leave? I'm pretty easy to distract so—"

"If you forget to get them back then I'll just hand them to you tomorrow at school. You go to HSU too, right?" You tell him.

"Yeah, but how will you contact me?"

"Obviously, we exchange numbers."

Yeonjun blinks. Of course that'd be the simplest solution but still. He'd been talking about staying as friends even after all this but the thought of exchanging numbers hadn't really crossed his mind. He takes out his phone and the two of you quickly added each other as contacts, somehow feeling a bit closer after the exchange.

"While we're at it—" Yeonjun pulls you in closer as he bends down. Only now that you've felt Yeonjun's warmth close to you have you noticed how cold it actually was outside . It takes you a few seconds to register that he wants to take a few selfies.

You bust out a smile and tried to go along with whatever weird faces and poses he did. "Send them to me later." You say after examining the photos. There's one where Yeonjun mimicked a kissing motion near your cheek, making you smile. Who would've expected you two were total strangers up until a few hours ago.

"Got room for one last ride?" Yeonjun asks as you return his phone.

"Yeah, sure. Which one?"

"Don't ask as if you don't know. I'm pretty sure you left this one out on purpose."

Perhaps unconsciously, you did. In every single movie that involved the two characters going to a carnival, for some reason, they always left the Ferris Wheel for last. It's not like you wanted something grand to happen when you ride it, but more like you just wanted to get a good view of the entire carnival before leaving. It seemed like the perfect final attraction.

Yeonjun notices how you've gone quiet and decided to hold your hand, pulling you along. "Let's go before the place closes."

"Okay." You look up at him, nodding.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

The Ferris Wheel ride wasn't all you had expected it to be. It looked pretty slow in the movies but right now? You were about to puke.

"Yeonjun, wait." You hold on to Yeonjun who was sitting opposite to you.

The Ferris Wheel was going too fast to your liking and you started feeling dizzy. Getting a good view of the carnival seemed impossible at this point and looking at your partner made you even more miserable.

Yeonjun was having the time of his life. He loved the feeling in his stomach whenever the ride went down, and the fact that you were lowkey suffering right in front of him made him laugh even harder.

The speed went on for a few more rounds until it finally slows down. Your heart and probably everything else stilled once the ride came to a complete stop just as your car reached the top. "Thank God. I felt like I was going to die."

"Well, you're safe for now." Yeonjun grins, leaning back in his heat. "You wanted to enjoy the view, right? We'll be stuck here for probably about a minute or two so enjoy it while it lasts."

"Yeah." You smile back, looking outside the window.

The winds were colder up there, reminding you of how warm it felt when you stood close to Yeonjun earlier. Yeonjun catches you warming yourself up with your hands and chuckles. He takes off his jacket and hands it over to you. "Here, put this on."

"Thanks." You quickly put his jacket on. Usually you'd go for the polite route and turn him down but if you were going to continue this friendship business then you weren't about to suffer in the cold when the dude's practically handing you a solution.

Yeonjun gives you a little smile before you continue to admire the view. Down there, the lights almost looked like a sea of stars. The music around the place didn't really help set the mood but somehow, the mixture of it along with the laughter and delightful screams of the other visitors made it feel right. After everything that happened today, you felt like it was the right decision to end the day with this breathtaking sight.

And Yeonjun couldn't agree more. The lights below reflected in your eyes in a way that made the atmosphere lighter. He could tell you were happy and right now, that seemed to be enough for him.

The Ferris Wheel began moving. Yeonjun snickers as he felt you grab for his hand, worried that the ride might throw you off once more, but it didn't. The way down was slow, allowing you to enjoy the ride in peace. Your pendant started to shine, reflecting the lights. It reminded him of everything that happened, from the moment you two met and agreed on a friendship that would last for only a day, up until now where he held your hand on the Ferris Wheel after deciding to be friends for real this time. The pendant became the sole proof of that friendship and Yeonjun couldn't help but wonder if the ones he bought a few years back would truly be of any use in the future. But what would it symbolize for? Who knows, he might just give you the other half.

Your car comes to a stop and the doors open. The realization that the day has officially come to an end left you feeling disappointed. Yeonjun squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. He gestures for the two of you to get up and you do, finally stepping back on the ground.

Both you and Yeonjun felt that the way back to the entrance was too fast. It really did seem like the two of you wouldn't see each other again despite the fact you went to the same university. The thought felt silly but that's just how the carnival experience gets to you.

"I guess this is it." Yeonjun speaks up first. "You live pretty far from here, right? I can take you home if you want."

"It's okay. My cousin lives nearby and I texted her earlier that I'd be staying over." You tell him, not wanting him to worry. "How about you? Will you be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, definitely." Yeonjun reassures, holding up his hands. "Oh, and by the way. Is it okay if I leave the plushies on your bag for now? I can't exactly carry them on the way back. If it's ok with you."

"Don't worry. You can just take them back tomorrow." You grin and Yeonjun smiles back. "Also, I'm keeping your jacket for now. I'll return it after I clean it up."

"I can work with that." He shouldn't feel this happy but he did. In a way, he was able to find an excuse to meet up with you tomorrow without things getting awkward. Maybe this friendship could work out afterall.

"Thanks for today. Honestly, this was the most fun I've had ever since I got here." You say, taking one last look at him.

I should be the one to thank you. "You know, I have a lot of things I wanna say to you right now but I think I'm gonna wait until I feel like it."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I'll text you later." Yeonjun gives you a quick pat on the shoulder before running off to the opposite direction. "See you at school! And don't forget to bring the kids!"

You raise a brow. Did he just refer to the plushies as his kids?

He felt dumb, running away from you. The longer he stayed, the more he had trouble leaving, which was new for him. It's been a while since he actually found someone he'd like to hang out with and he was having trouble controlling his excitement. Soon, you'd be able to visit each other's houses, hang out more freely, talk about your days as if it were nothing, and get to know each other more. Honestly speaking, Yeonjun couldn't wait for that day to come but I guess he'll just have to start with tomorrow.

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 2020

day 04- drink me under

title: Inebriating Love

summary: Modern AU - it’s a lonely, Sunday night and Sakura doesn’t want to spend it alone with her memories.

a/n: I suck at summaries hahaha okay, I LOVED writing this one! I had this idea a while ago when I was listening to an old song and I just had to use that feeling of two lovers in the night with SasuSaku. I’m not sure if it worked the way it was meant to, but I’m happy with the result! I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I also hope you forgive me for my mistakes. My beta is still busy, so all the typos and grammar mistakes are on me. Have fun!

Rated T

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.

Though Sakura has always considered herself to possesse a wild imagination, her 13-year-old self would’ve never pictured she would eventually grow up to become a regular costumer at the nearby pub. In fact, being the goody two-shoes she used to be, her younger self would’ve laughed at whoever said anything that stupid about the brilliant future that certainly awaited for her.

First, I will graduate high school with the best scores, then I will be a famous doctor. I’ll stay away from any addictions and I’ll marry a wonderful guy so we can have two, wonderful kids before I turn thirty!

She would answer that whenever someone asked her about what she wanted to be when she grew up, and there would be no doubt lingering in her voice regarding it. Sakura had everything planed for herself, and anything slightly different from that scenario would be unacceptable.

Poor, little girl, she thinks now, taking a sip of her double scotch. There’s a smirk decorating her lips as she places the glass back on the wooden counter, and she closes her eyes as the liquor slips down her throat.

It doesn’t burn anymore. Hasn’t burned in ages, in fact. The alcohol now is no stranger to her body, but unfortunately, it’s not as effective as it used to be when she first started coming to this place. She rarely gets drunk anymore, needing many doses to make her pass out, but she doesn’t know if that’s something that a small-town girl should be proud of.

Her life was supposed to have been different. Maybe not exactly like the one she had pictured, but she should’ve been able to do more after she actually managed to become a doctor and work at a prestigious hospital. She believes she has become a successful woman— a strong one, as some of her young patients usually call her— but that alone isn’t enough to protect her from a lonely night.

If it were, perhaps, she wouldn’t be all alone in a pub, drinking her problems away and talking to her only friend in the city, Uchiha Sasuke— the pub-owner.

Tonight, since most of his employees are off duty, he is the one serving his clients their drinks, and right now, he is giving another dose of whiskey to the old man sitting some benches away from her. Her green eyes carefully observe him from her seat as he slowly pours another dose while telling him that, maybe, he’s had enough for the night. There aren't many people drinking on this Sunday night— 4, including her, all of them men around their fifties— and she couldn’t help but feel a bit greedy.

Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the night itself, but Sakura doesn’t want to share him tonight. She enjoys his company more than she cares to admit, and seeing him so far away makes her rosy lips turn into a pout. He’s the reason why she keeps coming back to this place, and he’s also the only person who makes her feel less shitty about herself— and that says a lot.

At first, the pinkette thought it was just the way he treated all the other costumers, but slowly, she realized that was not the case. He’s a cordial man to everyone, at most, but it’s become easy for her to tell that he actually likes her. He is always sincere whenever he asks her about her day, and more than once has he closed the pub earlier so they could have a drink or two while sharing a pizza. They talk about a lot of things, and she simply loves to hear the weird stories about some weird costumers and their weird stories.

Whenever she hears about these people, a part of her just hopes she’s not just another weird story in his repertoire.

Ever since she arrived in the city and destiny brought them together, he has been there for her, giving her tips on the urban life and even telling her which restaurants she should order food from whenever she didn’t feel like cooking. Eventually, they discovered that they have a lot of similar interests, such as mystery books, horror movies and old, American songs— the kind that would always start playing whenever she came by— and it’s undeniable that they feel comfortable enough around each other to share some personal memories, too.

In the same way he knows about her life before she ended up where she is, Sakura knows about his family. Knows that he has lost them in an accident over 10 years ago, and that he gave up on his layer carrier after that. She also knows about the fan tattoo he has on his right forearm and that he has a snake named Aoda in his small apartment.

He’s a very interesting guy, indeed. He holds an unique and mysterious charm behind his obsidian eyes and stoic features, and even after years of coming and going, the pinkette still feels herself being drawn to him.

How intriguing, she thinks, propping her elbow on the counter. Unconsciously, she rests her chin on the palm of her right hand, squinting her eyes a bit as she continues to stare at him. She notices that he slightly turns his head to spare her a side glance, and instead of looking away when their eyes meet, Sakura holds his stare for a couple of seconds too long until, eventually, he has to break contact in order to pay attention to his other costumer. There’s a sly smirk decorating her face now, and she also notices the way his lips twitch upward.

This is something they do on regular basis, now. She didn’t really notice it, at first, but eventually, Sakura realized that it’s not unusual for their eyes to meet whenever he’s serving another person. It used to be shy and unconscious, but after a while, she started doing it on purpose, just to see what his reaction would be.

It’s a bold move of hers— or, at least, she thinks it is. An unspoken challenge between their eyes, as they tease and expose each other with every exchanged glance. It’s an amusing and harmless flirt, and though they have no idea of how to beat this ruleless game, neither of them seem to be in a hurry to end it or anything like that.

However, losing this game doesn’t seem to be that bad.

Once he finally manages to walk away from the older guy, the Uchiha doesn’t waste his chance to come to her. His steps are slow, but soon, he’s standing across the counter from her. The warm lights that illuminate the bottles behind him highlight his handsome features, and she knows she could just stare at him for hours without stopping.

“Having fun with your other costumers, Sasuke-kun?” She asks, her eyes now holding a joyful gleam.

“You can say so.” He says, simply, organizing some of the glasses and bottles near his reach. “In fact, he’s curious about you.”

“Me?” She furrows her brows.

“Aah. He doesn’t understand what a pretty girl is doing all by herself in a place like this.”

“Well…” She starts, the tip of her tongue smoothing her lower lip. Sakura loves hearing that question whenever she comes by, especially since she doesn’t know the answer herself. Every time, she makes a new excuse and creates a different lie, just to see how people would react to her crazy stories. Tonight, though, she doesn’t really feel very creative. “Tell him it’s just a lonely night playing its tricks.”

“…I see.” He nods, knowing better not to press on her matters. Though he has heard her problems many times before, Sasuke has learned that, on some nights, nothing really can be done. He knows when she needs space and when she needs a shoulder to cry on, and right now, it’s clear that it’s the former. “He's been ordering the same as you, but I don’t think he will be able to stand for too long.”

“It takes years of practice to reach my level, right?”

“Years, right?” His lips curl up slightly at her words, probably remembering the girl she used to be when they first met. On that day, she had ordered a diet coke, and she made him swear at least three times there was no drop of alcohol in her glass before she took a sip. And even if nowadays there are times when she really just comes for her diet coke, she knows he’s a man worthy of her trust.

“Yeah.” She giggles, then, taking the last sip of her drink. “Tell him that befriending the pub-owner does that to you.”

“Oh, so now this is on me?”

“Of course. If you weren’t such a nice guy, perhaps, I wouldn’t be here tonight.”

“Hn.” He closed his eyes, pouring some more in her glass. Though she didn’t really use words to ask him, he already knows how to read her unspoken wishes. “I'm glad I’m a nice guy, then.”

“Very nice, indeed.”

She takes another sip of her new drink, and allows her mind to drift back to the moments they shared. Though she really believes him to be a nice guy, Sakura can’t help but feel a certain heat pooling in her stomach because of the times when he wasn't really that nice.

Her eyes land on his hands— so strong and firm— and she remembers how warm they feel against her bare skin. The way his muscles tense at her touch and the marks he leaves on her hips whenever he pins her against a wall are signs of his hidden roughness, and she bites her lower lip at the memory of his kisses trailing down her neck.

Though that black shirt might make him look composed and recollected, she knows better than to believe that professional facade of his. His intense stare and his dark locks hide more than anyone can tell, and she likes to believe this is their little secret.

It has happened a few times already and even if they say they can’t keep doing this forever, it’s a lot easier said than done. They share a deep connection neither of them really understand, and from time to time, their souls seek for a certain comfort that they can only find within each other.

It’s more than just physical need, they know. It’s more than raging hormones and alcohol, for there’s an intimacy neither of them had counted on when they first started their rendezvous. They’re already past that one-night-stand thing, but to say it’s something more—well, perhaps she’s still too sober to dwell into this.

“You're oddly quiet tonight.” He says, breaking her from her thoughts.

A soft smiles crosses her lips as her fingers start playing with the brim of her glass. She looks down, at first, then her eyes return to him. “I guess I don’t know what to talk about.”

“Anything is fine, I suppose.”

“Uhmm…” She hums, trying to think about what to say. “I guess it would be easier if I was like the others that come here with marriage problems or because they got fired.”

“But you’re not like them, Sakura.” He states, his dark eyes intensely staring at her. Her heart starts pounding faster in her chest, the air feeling too heavy inside her lungs. She feels defenseless under his stare, as if he is stripping her of her good senses, and although she really came by just for a couple of drinks and a nice talk, something inside her urges for more. His sincere concern is probably his most charming feature, and he knows exactly when to use it against her.

Damn it, she really hates him for that.

“Well...” She starts, a teasing smile on her lips. “You would probably know exactly what to tell me, right?"

“It depends a lot, to be honest.”

“How so?”

“If the problem had anything to do with your job, I would probably just tell you to try again since this is the main reason why you came to the city in the first place. Your job is important to you, and even if you complain about it every now and then, we both know you love what you do.”

“This is a very good advice, indeed. Very professional.” She giggles, tilting her head to the side. “And what if it was about marriage problems?”

“In that case, I don’t think I would be able to give you a real advice on that.” He starts, looking around, as if he is checking his surroundings. She can tell he’s mostly messing around, but by the time he leans towards her, she doesn’t miss the way his eyes grow a bit darker. Their faces are bare inches apart, and the smell of his cologne invades her nostrils as he whispers to her. “I don’t think I would be able to remain impartial.”

Her eyes drift to his lips for a second, and it’s as if she can feel his warmth irradiating towards her body. Sakura is very aware that he’s teasing her, and even if she would normally be a bit more cautious with her words around him, right now, she doesn’t really seem to care about extending their little game for the night. “I guess I would be talking to the problem himself, right?”

A smirk grows on his face at her words, and slowly, he returns to his previous position. He’s towering over her now, only the wooden counter standing between their bodies. They don’t move for a couple of seconds, their lustful eyes still too busy flirting with each other to even pay attention to the world around them. And if not for his other costumer calling his name, they would’ve remained like that for who knows how long.

Once their eye contact is broken, she looks down at her drink once more, her lips still holding the memory of a smirk. Seeing how bothered his face seems right now is incredibly amusing, and for that, she decides to forgive that man for interrupting them.

He just wanted his drink, after all.

“Someone’s calling you, mister barman.”

“Tch.” He scoffs. “Don't go anywhere. I’ll be right back”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be right here with my drink.” She starts, her eyes now sparing his other costumer a side-glance. “But I don’t think our pal over there is gonna last that much longer.”

Sighing defeatedly, the raven haired boy makes his way towards the other guy. He’s speaking louder now, his words coming out with no connection between them. For what she could understand, he was trying to say anything about being an excellent drinker, and that he could drink more than everyone in that pub. He seems completely sure about that, but to no one’s surprise, it doesn’t take long before his head falls face-first on the counter top. At first, both Sasuke and her worry that he might have stopped breathing, but as soon as the Uchiha confirms that the man is just asleep, she relaxes again. Apparently, instead of an ambulance, they believe calling a cab should be just fine.

Her eyes are still looking at Sasuke from afar as he ponders his next options with his sleeping costumer. Judging by his face, the Uchiha seems troubled, and this is enough to make her laugh. It’s an honest laugh, she knows, and she realizes she hasn’t laughed like that for a while now. She rests her head on her left hand this time, and allows herself to appreciate that rare moment of joy in such an awful night.

When she left home that evening, the pinkette could’ve never imagined she would actually be able to laugh at a drunk man, and she believes she has to thank Sasuke for that. Though she knows her problems are still lingering in her mind, haunting her for even daring to show signs of happiness, Sakura is not a woman who willingly chooses to remain unhappy. As long as she can identify a valid way out, she’s always fast to ignore whatever is bothering her, and even if that doesn’t solve anything, at least it works as a coping mechanism.

Sometimes, she thinks, overthinking is just a useless, human reaction. There are times when worrying about something won’t really do anyone no good, and tonight is one of those times.

Sure, she could have chosen to tell him about her childhood best friend who got married in her home town and even the fact that she wasn’t invited for it. She could tell him how those severed ties made her really homesick, and how missing her family makes her remember her grandmother’s harsh words when she first told them she was moving out because of her new job.

Sakura could’ve really told him all that, but what difference would it have made tonight?

Knowing him, Sasuke would probably try to tell her not to let those things get to her, but at least for tonight, it’s already too late. It’s already gotten her— a lot more than she thought it would— and now it’s just too late to fix anything.

Not that she even tried, to begin with.

At the same moment she decided to come by for a couple of drinks, the pinkette had an idea of how her evening would end. She never really planned on getting a different point of view on that matter and she certainly wasn’t looking for any advice on what to do next.

Sakura was just thirsty for a drink or four and some good company. His company, more specifically.

By the time she makes up her mind, the Uchiha has already called that man a cab and the other costumers are also taking their leave. They all pay him for the drinks and the service, and when they’re finally left alone, Sasuke decides that it should be fine if he closes earlier tonight. She’s still sitting on her bench when returns from the now locked door, her glass now almost empty, and her eyes follow him as he starts placing the bottles back on the shelves.

“Do you want some help with anything, Sasuke-kun?” She asks, sincerely.

“Thank you for the offer, but don’t worry. I’ll just organize a couple of things so Naruto can finish everything tomorrow morning.”

“I bet he’s gonna love the surprise.” She chuckles, her mind already imagining the blonde cursing his boss. “You should give him a raise.”

“Not happening.” He denies, firmly.

“Well, I’ve tried.” She shrugs, a smile on her face as she closes her eyes for an instant, her mind drifting back to his other costumer. “I guess that guy still has some training to do if he wants to beat me.”

“He really didn’t know what he was getting himself into.” He nods, wiping the counter top from peanut shells. “Barely he knew you would be drinking him under the table so early.”

“They never do.” She says, proudly, before finishing her drink.

There’s a smirk on his face at her words. Thinking that such a small girl would actually be able to handle so much alcohol without even losing balance really amazes him. “Do you want another drink?”

“Oh, no. I’ve had my share for tonight, thank you, Sasuke-kun.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to work tomorrow or anything and you didn’t even drink that much tonight.”

“I’m sure.” She says, and it’s as if she can feel her eyes turning a darker shade of green as she looks at his back. Her heart is beating faster now, and she knows she won’t be able to hold an innocent conversation for too long. When he turns to face her, then, she holds his stare for a bit too long, and unconsciously bats her eyelashes. She’s blushing now— just a dust of pink on her cheeks— and she takes a deep breath before her voice comes out almost as a whisper. “I might not be close to drinking myself under, but…as they say, another drink and I’ll be under the host.”

Her eyes are half-closed now as she looks at him, and slowly, she makes a bridge with her fingers that lingers just below her pouting lips. Sakura is very aware of what she’s doing right now, and judging by the way his eyes grow fonder, she can tell he knows it, too. They’re way past subtle advances now, but they know better than to just skip the steps.

A little romance never did anyone no harm, after all.

After they maintain eye-contact for a couple of seconds, the Uchiha is the first to break it, as he clears his throat, causing the smile on her face to widen a bit. Once he finishes what he was doing, he grabs a bottle he keeps under the counter and a clean glass before walking away so he can join her on the other side. He takes a seat next to her, and carefully, he pours them another dose and handles her the previously-empty glass. He’s also holding one, now, and her expression softens as he comes closer.

“Then let’s make it worth it."

Their faces are just inches apart when he says that, and she can’t find words to describe how good this feels. Though it’s far from the relationship she had pictured for herself a long time ago, Sakura believes this is much better than settling for what’s considered to be normal all over the world. Sasuke has brought an adventurous charm into her life, and he has showed her how beautiful the rain is even in the middle of a storm. He’s probably the most simple, yet most intriguing part of her life, and right now, she can’t really imagine herself without him anymore.

He has turned her small and monotonous world upside-down, and made her learn that, sometimes, people can grow thirsty for one another and there’s nothing wrong with that.

They clink their glasses before drinking the liquor, and they giggle a bit to that. His hand is now cupping her face, and his thumb softly brushes her cheek. They don’t need any words to express their feelings now, and when he finally kisses her— so roughly, yet gentle and passionate— it’s like all the alcohol she has consumed during the evening is making her throat burn. Her stomach is on fire, her heart is racing and she’s growing intoxicated by his touch.

Uchiha Sasuke is certainly the strongest and most inebriating thing in her life, and in this big and lonely city, he’s the only one who can quench her thirst.

fin.

[beeexx]

Chapter 2 of To all the boys I’ve Loved before Tarlos au is up. You can read it here.

Here is a little tease :)

TK makes it as far as to his locker, his and Carlos’s contract safely tucked into a book of his in his backpack, when he runs into Paul.  

 Ah, well fuck, he’s oficially screwed now. 

Paul’s eyes are narrowed and he has that very obvious ‘don’t you dare bullshit me’ look he’s gotten famous for in their group which they all know very well that lying is the worst thing you can do in that moment. TK sighs and motions for Paul to follow him to the bathrooms so they can talk privately. TK checks each stall to see if they are empty before he turns to a very impatient looking Paul staring at him.

“Okay, so I can explain.”

“Can you? Good, let’s go.”

“So what do you want to know?”

“How you went from ‘I’m never going to date Carlos I never want to see him again’ to locking lips with him where the whole school could see.” Paul imitates his voice and it’s way too high pitched to sound anything at all like TK does, but he ignores it. 

“I don’t think the whole school could see...”

“Most people videoed it.”

“Right, yeah… of course…” TK hadn’t even thought about that, well fuck, that’s not exactly something he’d want finding its way to the headmaster or to any future collage or university applications. 

“Sooo….?”

“Well the day when you went off to see Lily.”

“For the chess club.” Paul corrects and TK rolls his eyes because that is not true, no matter how hard he tries to convince him of that.

“Anyway I almost reversed into Carlos, he was fine by the way. Then Matteo has been on my ass about me being lonely and ending up some kind of hermit or something and how I should get a boyfriend. He’s been really annoying and then some stupid letters I wrote ages ago got out, probably because they accidentally ended up in the Goodwill boxes I sent out only for Carlos’ to actually get his.” He rushes through the first part of the story so he can just get to the part where him and Carlos are fake dating, because that is now a thing.

“And he was all like I’m flattered but Alex bla bla bla Alex bla bla so I just kissed him on the pitch because Alex was there and I wanted to get back at him and Carlos was annoying and I lost my mind there for a moment I think. Cut to me running away to Cafe Corner to be cornered by Carlos again and for him to actually suggest we fake date to make Alex jealous, so now I have a fake boyfriend and it’s Carlos…?” Paul’s eyes have widened, like he can’t believe a word he’s just heard and TK doesn’t blame him because it sounds absolutely deranged to his own ears too. Then Paul starts to laugh, a little too loudly and a little longer than what TK warrants to be necessary.

“Man, this sounds like one of those cheesy romance novels you keep reading. This is like straight out of a movie, I love it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess.”

“This is so going to end badly.”

“What? Why? How?”

“Ah TK, my sweet innocent child.” TK huffs as Paul grabs him by the shoulders to pull him close, holding on very tightly which makes it impossible for TK to shrug him off.

“It’s going to end with feelings and heartbreak.” TK scoffs.

“Feelings? What are you talking about? Feelings for who? Carlos? Are you kidding, it’s all just pretend.”

“Well in a few months’ time I might say I told you so and gloat a little bit, but I will obviously be the shoulder you can cry on when I am ultimately right.”

“I’m just helping him get back at Alex, I don’t see that as a particularly bad thing.”

“Oh I have no problem with you getting back at Alex, he’s an ass, he deserves it, all I’m saying is that these things never work out the way you intend them to.”

“Whatever, also you can’t tell Mateo and Marjan, it’s bad enough that you know, we put no snitching in the contract.” Paul bursts out laughing even harder and TK feels his cheeks flush, but whatever, having a contract for these things are important, he stands by that. 

“I won’t say a word.” He says through his laughter and TK finally manages to pull Paul off himself and leaves while giving him the finger, to the sound of Paul’s laughter ringing in his ears as the door closes. 

The rest of the day stays blissfully boring.

……

“Mateo come on!” TK shouts for what feels like the 100th time this morning and throws his hands up in defeat when there’s no reply. “Okay fuck it, you can walk.”

“No swearing TK.” Owen chides and TK gives him the finger when he isn’t looking.

“I’m coming!” Mateo shouts but TK still can’t hear him make a move from upstairs so that’s clearly a lie since he’s been saying that for the last ten minutes.

“You go on your own, I can just drive him once he’s ready.” Owen suggests.

“Actually… well actually I’m not driving today.” He says carefully.

“No?”

“No, Carlos is supposed to take the both of us.”

“Carlos? Carlos Reyes?”

“Yes, we’re I guess friends now…”

“Oh, that’s amazing, I’m happy to hear that.” His dad says overly excited for something as mundane as TK making friends, but the look on his dad’s face sends a pang of guilt through TK, he doesn’t want to lie to anyone, but then he really doesn’t want to have a conversation about how he has a pretend boyfriend to get back at Carlos’ ex that happens to be Alex either, so keeping his mouth shut about it seems logical and it doesn’t feel like his dad has to know about it just this exact moment so.

“Mhm.” He will leave Mateo though, because it’s becoming too much for TK to stand in the kitchen and lie right now.

“I’m here.” Mateo says, fucking finally done, and looking exactly the same as he does on any other school day so TK has no clue what the hell he’s been doing all morning.

“Finally!”

“Bye kids, have a good day.”

“You too.” Mateo calls as he closes and locks the door, just as Carlos drives up the road. 

“Oh, hell yes.” Mateo says excitedly as he sees Carlos’ car. TK thinks it is ridiculous and can’t help but wonder if Carlos is trying to compensate for the car in lack of certain things in other departments but he stops himself thinking along those lines immediately because nope, nope, nope no.

“Morning.” Carlos says smiling and makes sure to open the door for TK who rolls his eyes while Mateo swoons in the back.

“Stop being weird.” TK tells him and Mateo swats his hand away.

“I’m just trying to get used to the idea that you’re actually dating Carlos. EEEHH I am so happy for you.”

“Yeah totally.” TK tries to sound excited as well. Carlos gets back in the driving seat and starts the car. 

“Hi.” He says gently to TK and TK smiles and nudges him further away, Carlos chuckles delightedly. 

“Oh, here by the way TK, it’s from Grace.” Mateo says and throws something in TK’s lap, TK’s face lighting up immediately.

“Ahhh yes.”

“What’s that?” Carlos asks.

“Oh this? It’s chocolate from the Scandinavian store, it’s the best chocolate in town.” Carlos looks doubtful.

“It is! Here try some.” TK breaks off a small piece and gives it to Carlos who instead of just taking it off from TK leans his face close to TK’s fingers and very gently but purposely puts his mouth just at the tip of TK’s thumb and index finger and takes the chocolate off him, the tip of his tongue brushing against TK’s skin, sending shivers straight up his spine and making him blush ridiculously hard, Mateo wolf whistling in the back of the car. TK’s eyes snap to Carlos who is looking at him instead of at the road ahead and what he sees there makes him feel hot all over.

“Yeah, okay, wow it’s good.” Carlos is clearly impressed, his eyes lighting up, making his whole face glow in happiness, and TK breaks out of whatever the hell just happened and gulps and stares straight ahead in order to get his bearings together.

“Yeah it is.” Mateo says and for a moment TK had even forgotten that he was in the car.

“Where do you get it from?”

“It’s all the way across from town, TK is too scared to drive there himself but Grace and Judd live much closer to it and Grace is literally an angel so every now and then she goes to stock up for him.” TK tries to glare at Mateo for spilling his secrets, and giving away the location of the best supermarket ever, you can get so many nice things in those shops that you would never be able to get from the normal ones and TK is particular about keeping quiet about its location. 

“Who is Grace and Judd?”

“Our dad works with Judd and Grace is his wife, she’s a 911 operator.”

“Aahh, okay.” Carlos says and looks like that cleared something up he must have been very confused about. 

They make it to school much quicker than it normally would take when TK drives and Mateo is ecstatic, his whole face glowing in triumph when they step out to the parking lot, gaining some stares in the process that TK could really do without. Mateo hides his snickers.

“Morning.” Iris calls, comes up to punch Carlos’ shoulder, high fives Mateo and levels TK with a stare he doesn’t think is exactly hostile but not totally friendly either.

“Hi. Iris.” He takes her hand.

“Hi, TK.”

“Right, right, yes of course. I know who you are.” TK’s eyebrow raises because to her he’s probably the guy who made Carlos spill out their Chinese food just before summer ended.

“You’re Mateo’s brother, he’s told me about you.”

Oh, okay, that wasn’t exactly what he was expecting but he guesses he’s fine with that.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right.”

“Sweet.” She leans against Carlos’ other side and puts an arm around Mateo’s shoulder, squeezing brotherly while Mateo looks like she’s hung the moon.

Oh no TK thinks.

“Iris, behave yourself.” Carlos scolds without heat.

“Me? I always behave. TK, if Carlos ever tells you that I was the one almost getting us arrested it’s a lie, remember that. It was totally him.”

“What? You almost got arrested?” Mateo pipes up by Iris’ side.

“Don’t go giving him any ideas Iris, I don’t want to bail him out.” TK says, a little sternly because he really doesn’t want to do that. Iris grins a little evilly, looking between the two, with Mateo giving her puppy eyes and TK trying to plead with her. 

“I think it’s a story for another time.” TK breathes out a sigh of relief and Carlos rolls his eyes at her. 

“Ignore her.” He whispers to TK and TK hopes he can. 

“Well, I have history, I kind of need to go…” TK says to Carlos, picking his phone up to double check the time, he hates being late.

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

“Come on Mateo, let’s go to chem.” Iris pulls Mateo with her and gives Carlos an unreadable look and sends him an encouraging smile as a parting gift, TK has no idea what their silent communication means, but they must know each other well if they can do it so easily.

“Okay, well I’ll see you at lunch, it’s a perfect opportunity for Alex to see.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” For a moment TK’s forgotten all about the whole making Alex jealous thing they got going but with Carlos’ reminder it’s suddenly very clear again that they are barely even friends. Come to think of it TK doesn’t even know that much about Carlos to begin with. He just nods and smiles and then picks up the pace to get to history and out of the vicinity of Carlos as fast as he can.

[masquerade-story]

Chapter 1 - Moving In

"Whose dumb idea was it to go camping like this anyway?" Grey grumbled, smacking away a tree branch that seemed determined to get friendly with his face.

Walking behind him, his twin sister Lillian rolled her eyes and poked the small of her brother's back. "Yours. It was your idea."

"Oh please Crystal! Please oh please might we go live at the haunted house in the woods where we'll certainly perish! I, Dorian Grey Duvall, swear on my sister's honor to let you protect me!" Rayne fluttered her eyelashes, lowering her voice to sound more like Dorian. She yanked the handcart she was dragging over a set of roots, careful to steady its contents before resuming her walk.

"Has to swear on my honor cuz he doesn't have any of his own left after the last time," Lillian snickered, while Grey pointedly ignored their teasing and continued clearing the overgrown path.

Bringing up the rear with a digital camera trained on everyone's back, Crystal grinned and panned the camera to take in the large, dense trees, and huge, leafy bushes. "For a haunted forest, it's actually pretty nice here. Ah, more meadow rue! Specifically thalictrum rochebrunianum, neat."

"Gesundheit," Rayne said, eliciting giggles from the group.

"The lacy one over there with the purple flowers," Crystal clarified. "There's some rue anemone and meadow rue 'splendide' around here too. Don't touch the white flowery plant up ahead by the way, it's giant hogweed. The leaves and sap can give you phytophotodermatitis, making you blister up in the sun."

"Bro, how do you remember any of this? And as for you, you're a scary bitch," Grey cringed away from the plant in question while swearing at it, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at its pretty little flower clusters.

"I read a lot."

"Me too, doesn't mean I absorb any of it! I spent like six hours on Wikipedia the other day, don't even fully remember what I looked up."

"Was it about The Hobbit or Merlin? Cuz that's all you ever look up."

"Look, Lils. I know I'm walking in the front and all, but you don't need to stab me in the back like that. Also sometimes it's Pacific Rim, thank you very much."

"Was it Pacific Rim?"

"No it was The Hobbit."

The group talking and laughing were the self-proclaimed 'Fairy Rock' band Aos Sí Echtrae. Each of them wore a hiking backpack containing personal items, while Rayne also tugged along a sturdy handcart holding supplies and instruments with ease - a drum kit, harp, bouzouki, and keyboard piled up alongside some smaller instruments and the camping stuff Crystal insisted they bring along.

Though their banter was light-hearted and comfortable, they took their excursion very seriously. After all, they'd temporarily rented a locally infamous haunted house to use for a music video! It was a large investment, but they'd become popular online and had enough supporters that they were able to fulfill one of their member's dearest dreams.

Dorian Duvall, or Grey as he preferred to be called by friends, and his twin sister Lillian Duvall played bouzouki and keyboard respectively. Both had the same willowy stature, button nose and almond eye shape, but despite their similarities they both gave off very different impressions. Where Lillian looked soft and gentle, with large doe-like green eyes, and a kind smile, Grey had a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes and a roguish grin that he utilized with careless abandon. Lillian wore her sleek black hair long and loose, falling down past her waist and kept away from her face by a cloth headband, while Grey wore his hair in a high ponytail decorated with small braids.

As the one who absolutely loved haunted houses and anything spooky, it was Grey's idea to film on location for their new Halloween-themed album, Masquerade. Though it was the middle of July, they were hoping to get everything ready for an September promotional release before the album dropped in October, and so hurriedly set up for their video shoot in order to give themselves plenty of time for editing.

All four of them worked together to compose their music, write lyrics, and design stage costumes as well as fan merchandise. They also lacked anything resembling a lead vocalist, taking turns depending on what sound worked best with each song, and preferring harmonies rather than solos.

"Ray! There's a log up here!" Grey called out suddenly, kicking the fallen tree blocking their path. Rayne grunted acknowledgment, and shuffled around Lillian to help move the obstruction.

Rayne Rose played the drums, and also did a majority of the heavy lifting due to being the strongest person present in any room that didn't involve professional weightlifters. Her muscular arms were covered with watercolor flower tattoos, which she proudly showed off by refusing to wear any shirt with sleeves. Her curly hair, dyed a gradient of aqua blue and purple, was cropped close to her face for summertime weather. The short style purposefully revealed ear gauges and more than a dozen total ear piercings, matching the many piercings on her brows, lips, and nose.

The twins had fresh yet roguish charms, while Rayne had a more heroic air with heavy brows and an intense black gaze over lips naturally curved into an amused smirk. She dusted off her hands after tossing the log aside with little effort, while Grey panted for breath from the exertion of merely helping her lift it. Crystal, for her part, made sure to get the whole thing on video for future blackmail purposes.

Crystal Rose, Rayne's older sister, played the harp. Unlike her athletic and statuesque sister, Crystal was on the soft and plump side. Her long, wavy blonde hair was pulled back into a messy twist to keep it off her neck, the ends still pink from the last time she dyed it. Her face was round and childish, with bluish gray eyes above an upturned nose and broad cheekbones, unremarkable features made more charming by her innate overwhelming charisma and natural exuberance.

She was the kind of person that random strangers would strike up a conversation with, lost kids would try to hold her hand, wild animals would approach like an old friend, and when she raised her voice even the most crowded room would quiet down. She was also the kind of person who got carded when buying alcohol despite being thirty years of age, due to what Grey dubbed 'Acute Babyface Syndrome'.

"Anyone need to clean their glasses?" Crystal asked, pulling a cloth from her pocket to swipe hers clean. Aside from Rayne, who wore her contacts, Grey and Lillian both opted to wear glasses for the hike so they wouldn't have to worry about losing a contact forever if they tripped - a serious and ever-present concern for the slightly clumsy twins.

"I'm good!"

"Not yet, thanks."

"I'll take it," Rayne said, keeping her expression blank, and Crystal narrowed her eyes.

"If you wipe your sweaty face with the glasses cloth I'll push you into the patch of poison ivy over there."

"Ope, nevermind then."

The haunted house was a thirty minute hike from the nearest road, along a mostly uphill path that hardly anyone ever used and certainly wasn't wide or steady enough for any automobiles. By the time they reached the stone fence encircling the house's enormous overgrown yard, everyone except Rayne was ready to collapse.

"I'm gonna be so in shape after this if my binder doesn't kill me first," Grey wheezed, leaning on the stone fence and looking up at the haunted house of his dreams with a longing yet exhausted expression. It stood atop a hill in the distance, surrounded by several acres worth of mostly empty property speckled by a few large trees and scraggly bushes. Behind it was a small barn, a chicken coop that hadn't seen use in ages, and a greenhouse conspicuously lacking anything actually green. "A stone brick cottage in the middle of the woods overgrown by vines, a sagging peaked roof with exposed beams, and gaping windows whose panes are cracked like spiderwebs... Looks spooky enough! If the door doesn't creak ominously when we open it, I'm filing a complaint."

Rayne pulled the handcart into the yard, then glanced over her shoulder at Crystal, who was panning the camera up to take a wide shot of the house from just inside the fence gate. "How's it feel, Coco?"

Crystal frowned, furrowing her brows. All four of them believed in the supernatural after they all experienced several strange circumstances growing up, and Crystal had long proven to have abilities that most people would've considered fake nonsense.

She kept a dream diary after experiencing incidents where she'd dream events before they occurred, and wanted to prove to herself it wasn't a figment of her imagination. Whenever something weird happened, she was the first to alert everyone and get them away from danger before anything bad happened, and had an uncanny sense of whether people were lying.

"Hard to say. It does feel... Weird. The walk through the whole forest was fine, but as soon as I walked into the yard... The air's different."

"Really?" Grey raised his eyebrows, hopping over the fence and holding out his arms. He was the second most sensitive to any external oddities, with a particular penchant for finding rather nasty unexplained phenomena. After a few seconds he frowned as well. "No, yeah. That's a weird vibe for sure. It's like, the forest was fine and funky fresh, then you get over here and it's..."

"Musty," Crystal and Grey finished at the same time, and exchanged wry smiles.

"Could be trepidation from perceived fears," Lillian pointed out, gesturing toward the house. Though she also believed in the supernatural, Lillian also liked trying to find reasonable explanations before resorting to the occult. "The big empty windows feel eerie because people expect houses to be brighter and look more lived in, right? It's possible it's just a subconscious response to an old, dilapidated building."

"Dilapidated..." Rayne muttered, raising her eyebrows as she surveyed the house. She had a sensitivity to people's emotions and motivations, and could sometimes pick up lingering feelings from objects, but she didn't feel anything in particular coming from the building. "I don't think it looks that bad? We've lived in worse."

"It hurts me, physically, every time you and Crystal tell us about that kind of thing," Lillian sighed, patting her hand over her heart while Grey nodded next to her. "This place looks gross! It's horrible to imagine little Ray and little Coco in a place even worse than this..."

"Hey, they hired someone to clean the inside and arrange some basic furniture for us to use," Grey said. "It won't be fancy, but the interior shouldn't be too gross! And we'll sleep in the same room for safety! After all... This is the Corpse Consuming Cottage!"

"Ugh, that name..." Crystal and Rayne both cringed at the same time, while Lillian's eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, it's called what?!"

"Yup! Bad, right? But it's earned the name cuz of how many people have gone missing here. Poof! Gone without a trace! Every single person who's ever bought this place has disappeared, along with any family they brought along." Grey grinned, wiggling his fingers at his suddenly horrified twin. "I even made a spooky spreadsheet citing all my sources, aren't you proud? It's legit, this place is either hella haunted or hella cursed."

"Will we be okay!?" Lillian muttered, color draining from her cheeks.

"There's a loophole," Rayne said, and Crystal nodded.

"Yeah, we didn't buy the house. We're just renting. Supernatural stories are always big sticklers on rules, right? Chanting something three times, turning a certain way, walking a certain pattern. If buying the house is part of the problem, then renting it shouldn't be counted as the same thing because possession isn't being transferred." Crystal turned the camera to zoom in on poor Lillian's pale face, hiding her mischievous grin behind the lens. "Theoretically."

"Don't even pretend you aren't absolutely terrified too, Miss I Can't Go On The Haunted House Ride At The Amusement Park I Have A Doctor's Note," Grey scoffed.

"I don't like ghosts or wraiths or poltergeists or whatever wicked whatsits terrorize the night because I feel bad for them thanks very much, but..." Crystal glanced over at the house and frowned, furrowing her brow again. "I feel bothered but not... Threatened? Like there's something here watching but it won't hurt us."

"That's as good as a gold star to me. Let's crack this bitch open and make some lunch!" With renewed vigor, Grey fished the key from his shorts pocket and ran up the creaky old porch to the front door. "Come on in, it's nice and cool inside! Comparatively speaking, I don't think there's an air conditioner. Just fans. But it'll be clean!"

Like he'd promised, the interior was cleaner than the exterior condition belied. Furniture was sparse, but they were all fine wood antiques with a hand-polished sheen. Everyone dropped their backpacks in the foyer and stretched for a moment before getting to work.

"Water's on!" Grey called from the kitchen, where he set the tap to run. "There's dishes and cookware in here too!"

"Silverware?" Lillian called back, in the middle of helping Crystal and Rayne unload the handcart.

"Yup, as requested! I think they're all antique like the rest of everything here."

"Don't you dare break any antique dishes, Dorian Grey!"

"No promises!"

"Electricity works," Crystal said with some surprise, flicking a nearby switch after setting her harp case on the floor in the living room, alongside a towering pile of boxes holding personal things they'd had delivered via the realtor. She held her breath to listen for any crackles or pops, but the overhead light didn't give so much as a flicker. "Wires might actually be okay? That's surprising, this house is really old. Must've been recently renovated."

"Probably to try and reel in prospective buyers," Rayne said, setting down three drum cases. The rest of her kit was already unloaded, so she took a moment to glance around the living room with Crystal. "Inside looks much nicer than outside."

"We can make it look spookier with filters and editing," Crystal said, running her finger against the windowsill. When it came up without dust, she furrowed her brows. "They were real thorough cleaning this place."

"Found the terrifying cellar!" Grey's faint muffled cry echoed from somewhere in the house, followed by the sound of Lillian shouting his full name and charging off after him.

"Any cold spots?" Crystal shouted down the stairs after circling the entire bottom floor trying to find them. The cellar door was tucked into the kitchen's pantry, which was a full walk-in room rather than a little cabinet.

Since the house was so far from town, part of the rental contract involved the current real estate agent making sure the kitchen was stocked before tenants took over. All the shelves were packed full with newly purchased dry goods and spices, mostly sorted into pretty glass jars for aesthetic appeal.

"No cold spots, just some nice shelving, big old ground freezer and a wine rack! Fruit preserves and stuff but they didn't leave any complimentary wine. Zero out of ten, not recommended."

"What makes it terrifying then?"

"Big spiders."

Crystal grimaced and backed away from the cellar door, narrowly evading Lillian as she retreated up the stairs at maximum speed.

The house was surprisingly large. The ground floor had a large open kitchen with an attached breakfast room, a living room, a dining room, a sitting room, a study with empty floor-to-ceiling bookshelves alongside display cabinets, and a laundry/changing room attached to a bathroom with an enormous sunken bath large enough to be used as a hot tub.

"I would buy this house just for the tub," Lillian said, stroking the porcelain with obvious affection.

"Please don't," Grey muttered. "We're evading the horrible disappearance curse via fairy loopholes, don't you go walking into the trap face-first like that!"

"Fine, but when we leave, we're bringing the tub with us."

"Yeah sure that's completely feasible and not at all slightly insane."

The upper floor had five large bedrooms with attached changing rooms, two lavatories, and a walk-in storage closet. Rayne carried their bags into the master bedroom, then returned to the handcart to retrieve the extra supplies they brought - a couple of brand new air mattresses, blankets, boxes of instant food, tents in case the house was in worse shape than expected, a first aid kit, and little tools like scissors, binoculars, and lighters.

"This place is supposed to be super haunted and cursed, yet..." Rayne hummed to herself, patting the mattress in the master bedroom. Every bed in the house was neatly made, with clean sheets and blankets that still smelled like soap. "Won't need the air mattresses. They really worked hard to make this place nice, huh?"

Finally, the attic under the peaked roof had a few small gaps in the shingles, but otherwise lacked any signs of weathering or exposure damage. The only things occupying the space were a few cobwebs in the darkest corners. "Ugh, nothing for us to snoop through," Grey muttered, poking his head into the attic for only moment before heading back downstairs to start moving boxes from the living room into various bedrooms for later sorting.

Crystal and Rayne turned the fans on in all the rooms to start circulating air, opening windows on the shaded side of the house to catch any stray breezes, while Lillian and Grey got started on making lunch. The house which stood empty for so long soon filled with laughter, conversation, and the smell of good food.

"I just can't get over how unhaunted this haunted house is," Grey lamented, tapping a fork against his empty plate. "I've been looking and there's not so much as a suspiciously shadowed corner or creaky stair board!"

"Are you sure those disappearances were legit?" Lillian asked, gesturing for Crystal to pass the salt so she could douse her potato salad. "You checked the sources themselves, right?"

"I did! That's why it's so weird!" Grey drained the remaining water from his glass, glaring down at the ice cubes rattling at the bottom. "Other than the terrible cell reception, weak internet signal, and our gut feelings, there's really no sign of anything being weird. I was promised jumpscares!"

"You were promised no such thing," Rayne muttered around a mouthful of grilled chicken sandwich, deftly capturing some lettuce before it escaped her lips and hit the table. "The outside looks spooky enough for use in our video, we can think of this like a vacation and relax for a bit until we have to leave."

"There's a barn out back, maybe that's haunted?" Crystal suggested, but Grey shook his head.

"I already checked... It's clean as a whistle. No disturbed earth or rattling rusty tools or anything!"

"Would you feel better if one of us got possessed by a demon?"

"Maybe. It'd have to be a really good possession though, if you're not crawling on the ceiling I want a refund."

"Oh, you're paying us?"

"Hell no, a refund of my feelings. My feelings!"

"Speaking of feelings, how do you feel, Coco? Lils?" Rayne interrupted just as Grey was about to get dramatic. "That was a doozy of a hike. You guys alright?"

Both Lillian and Crystal suffered from several health problems when they were younger, and were still weaker than the average person because of it. They had to work harder to remain healthy than most people did.

Lillian, since her mouth was full, flexed her arm and gave a thumbs up to show she was feeling alright. Once her mouth was clear of food, she added: "Mostly just sore, but nothing a long bath and some music won't cure!"

"Coco?"

Crystal gave a start, realizing she'd been staring out the nearest window for awhile and tuning out the conversation. She turned back to Rayne and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just feel a bit woozy, I think."

"Sensing something weird?"

"Honestly? I don't know." Crystal sighed, opening a can of grape soda and pouring it into her glass. "I still feel like we're being watched. And..."

She hesitated, then shook her head. No matter how Grey tried to cajole the rest of the sentence from her, Crystal kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. If she felt they were in danger she wouldn't be so tight-lipped, so they dropped the subject and started discussing their upcoming album instead.

After lunch they moved several beds into one room, turning the master bedroom into a big slumber party area. The rest of the afternoon and early evening was spent getting video and photos of the house and its yard, trying to find the perfect angles for use during the actual performance recording.

Rayne gathered some logs for firewood after noticing a fire pit in the back with some carved stone benches surrounding it. Dinner consisted of an open flame barbecue using packaged meats they found in the fridge, and a few veggies and fruit rolled into foil packs.

"We've really gotta thank that agent lady," Grey said, reclining in his chair. "She really came through with the supplies! It's so good having a fully stocked kitchen from the start, I was worried we'd be having pancakes and instant ramen for days."

"I'll head to town tomorrow and grab more meat for the freezer in the cellar," Rayne said, chewing on a skewer of chicken. "It's got a little variety right now but I'd like to stock up so we don't have to make as many trips. You and Lils might be fine with rabbit food, but Crystal and I need that good good protein."

"We're natural carnivores," Crystal agreed.

"Is there anything else we need from the store?"

"Nah, I can't think of anything. There's like, four entire bags of toilet paper, and towels and wash cloths and soaps and detergent and even pads and stuff. Like, I know we paid for the service but the level of consideration is really impressive!"

Crystal stared into the flickering flames, watching the embers rise into the rapidly darkening sky only to flicker away among the stars. The strange feeling she'd had all day was building to a crescendo, swelling in her chest in anticipation of...

Something.

Rayne glanced over, nudging her sister in the arm. "Coco? You're out of it again."

Crystal nodded. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened again. Seeing her strange behavior, Lillian and Grey both fell silent.

Finally, Crystal heaved a sigh and poked at the burning logs with a long stick. "Remember when we first posted the video for our band? It was uploading and we were all watching the loading bar while holding our breaths? How it felt?"

"Don't get nostalgic on me old man," Grey muttered. Though his tone was teasing, there was an affectionate smile on his face.

Lillian nodded and smiled. "It was so exciting and terrifying at the same time. Maybe nothing would happen, maybe we'd be one of many bands that never got any traction. But maybe... Maybe we'd get lucky."

"It was kind of a relief too," Rayne added, gesturing with the skewer in her hand. "Like, we did it! We made our first song, and did our first video, and were gonna show it to the world. It felt really real right then. All our hard work."

"Yeah... And remember what I said?" When they all shook their heads, Crystal chuckled and poked the fire hard enough to send a flurried shower of sparks into the air. "I said it felt like a change was coming. For better or worse, something big was about to happen."

"Right, right! We'd either succeed in our dream or fail absolutely, with no in-between. That's what you said, yeah?" Grey sighed, patting his full stomach. "I remember. Man, that was heavy. I couldn't even sleep that night, you know?"

"Is it happening again?" Lillian asked, her voice even softer than usual. "That feeling?"

"Yeah. I've felt that way all day. I thought maybe it's cuz we never did anything as big as this, renting a house and doing a whole video shoot on location, that maybe I was worried about how ambitious our idea was, but..." Crystal bit her lip, poking the fire again. She made a point of avoiding their gazes, focusing on the burning embers and crackling logs. "I think if we stay here tonight, there's no going back."

Silence reigned for a few minutes. Then, quietly, Rayne whispered: "Are we in danger?"

"It's not like that. It's just... A massive change, that feels... Overwhelming. This is bigger than the previous time."

"Bigger than chasing our dream?"

"Yeah."

Rayne reached over to grab Crystal's hand, while Grey hopped up and sprawled across Lillian's lap despite her protests. He just laughed and said, "What's that matter? No matter what happens tonight, tomorrow, or whatever! We'll get through it together like we always have. You and me, sweethearts. Us against the world!"

Crystal smiled and gently squeezed Rayne's hand. "Yeah. We'll be fine, no matter what."

Once dinner was finished, the fire fully smothered and the leftovers packed away for later, everyone did rock-paper-scissors to determine order of bathtub usage. One by one, they soaked away their worries, changed into the pajamas they brought, and crawled into one of the master bedroom's beds.

As midnight ticked over, a single shaft of light from the full moon filtered through the room's lacy curtains, illuminating their peaceful faces. The sleeping occupants remained blissfully unaware of the tendrils of fog creeping along the ground, emerging from the forest to wrap the entire house in a dome of mist.

Several hours later, as the first rays of dawn burst from the horizon, they were finally awoken by a piercing scream.

[thespiritofthoughts1234]

The warriors

              Hi, my name is Isabela! I live in a small town called Ocna’s Village in Romania. Actually, I was born in Italy, but I’ve moved to Romania without knowing why, ok when I moved, I was a baby so is pretty logic to not know lots of things on that young age…Eh, doesn’t matter, cause now I don’t wanna tell you my story, but I really want to discuss about Dimension F35A.

                F35A is a place where everything that appears to be unrealistic, impossible or even dumb on this planet it can happen there. Now you might ask yourselves: “How can a little girl know so much about an interdimensional world”, well I know because I WAS THERE. You know, a very long time ago it was known about a rock that once rubbed by someone, it could create a portal between dimensions. That rock was called then a “curly rock”, a natural object that can be modeled in any other form, in today’s world it can be recognized in bracelet form and you can purchase it at an affordable price… (I swear I don’t make advertisement) …not true, actually you get it from birth (not literally anyone can say that).

               This dimension was perfect for my imagination, but it comes out that…I couldn’t get there till I turned 7…okay, technically, even at that age I still could NOT go in that universe, so I took my mom’s bracelet -I know that I’m not a good role-model, but I was DESPERATE, I asked her each year on my birthday (to be more convincing), and guess what she told me…I’ll make a scheme to show you my agony: -3years=No.

                  -4years=No!

                  -5years=NO!

                  -6years=NOO!

                  -7years=NOOO!

                So, it turns out that I’ve woken up for 8 years (1 year was under warranty) at 6 am because I had a “noghtmare” (eh, eh, get it…anyway, I wanted to make a pun but I noticed that no one laughed…L-LET’S KEEP GOING).

                  Ok, so when I first got in, I saw… a party with ponies and rainbows, that is what you were thinking...well, YOU’RE WRONG, it was just an unending war with random characters, it means that Batman could fight Bambi or something like that. Anyway! I looked around, everything was a chaos, but I’ve noticed something weird, I realized that everyone in there was fighting for a purpose or covering themselves or conquering new territories, so I made up a purpose too…the most important one. The thing that actually matters is that someone must clean this mess, a person that must be good, brave, and WORTHY FOR SUPREME LOYALTY, a creature that will stop this disaster.

And that’s why I’m…going to find it, what did you think that I am the person, no, not even a word, I won’t get into those knuckleheads, they freak me out.

                So, I transformed myself into a mouse and tried to reach the closest spot to hide (a rock…t-there will be many rocks in this story). And exactly when I thought that I’m safe, a giant robot crushed me (obviously I didn’t die because after you are crushed, sliced, shot, burnt, etc. you get back to your home dimension). But a second before game over I saw an iconic red color being, with deep black eyes that penetrate souls, three fox tails, two fox ears and one fox nose, who wore a leaf that covered all of its body, and who appeared to be a little bit confused by the chaos behind him, but in the end, he still crossed the road, very chill, to resolve his problems. I scanned it to have it like “skin” in the future (Minecraft users in the public, or Standoff or PUBG, whatever) but what future, because that stupid stack of iron CRUSHED ME:

                  --Hmm, what if I turn in that thing? I did it. Ew, this leaf doesn’t work on me… therefore, I changed. I was wearing a blue vest, white shirt, black jeans and brown boots…BOOM, it’s betTEEEER! I was screaming because a giant iron sole was going to crush me again (I would give a reply but I don’t have one…OH, WAIT, it looks like we can’t STEP inside without being CRUSHED by hospitality, HA HA, I’m a horrible pun maker…BACK TO THE STORY). However, I’m talking about one second before the impact, I ran but not like a penguin, I ran like FLASH:

                    --WHAT THE…WOW, I am running with the speed of light (clearing throat), doesn’t matter, now let’s find that person…I will look over mountains and valleys, lakes and oceans, and I will be recognized like “The random girl who brought the hero of this world” … after I will visit this place with the super-speed thing. Now I think I went through 3 kingdoms -I despite no one saw me- And then I arrived on a land with a dense fog, without…(cough)…clEAn AiR:

                    --NO…I need…(COUGH)…to continue mY qUeSt-not too far away from me stand a humanoid silhouette…at least that’s what I thought…however, I started to scream, powerless: PLEASE…(COUGH)…YOU, THE STRANGER IN THE HORIZON …I’M VERY YOUNG…EVEN IF I APPEAR TO BE IN MIDDLE AGE FROM THE DISTANCE AND UNCLEAN AIR! I fainted waking up in a cave:

                  --(Clearing throat again)…Uh, where am I? I said after being a little dizzy.

                   Suddenly a sound came out of nowhere, like a growl:

                  --W-what? Who’s there? I asked scared. An animal came out of shadow, actually it was the same animal that I saw a few moments ago: You again! What do you want for appearing in those mysterious ways? the animal growled harder showing its big fangs: Uuuh, what BIG fangs you got there, buddy, ha, ha! Wait do I have fangs too?! What’s your name? No, no, no, how do your friends call you? I have many questions about…you…I was slowly going back, because the animal was slowly coming to me. Unfortunately, I reached the end of the cave: Understand that I mean no harm, although we are in the same species, no…I scanned you, didn’t I…I scanned you…and I transformed into you, I hope you don’t want to…EAT ME?! I said with a worried expression.

                    After the last phrase the humano-animal -partial human, partial animal- for a second it stopped, and then it came rapid, got its huge bloody red color claws out -literally anything is red on you? – Well in that moment I nodded and I said:

                      --N-nice…c-claws. Did you do your manicure?... the best pun that I could tell to a creature with an unpredictable behavior, oh and more than that,

before I didn’t know if she/he was furious or happy, because I was seeing just his/her dark eyes -even the gender is unknown-, and after that innocent joke its eyes changed a lot, they were yellow with a keen red iris. “OH MY GOD I’M SO DEAD!” I said to myself…BUT yes, of course, I can’t die in this dimension, yeah thank you for reminding me, I don’t need to worry…just if I bump into a particularly type of being…a being that can destroy anyone and anything…

                          Is known about an ancient legend that reveals some sort of creatures, warriors, who disintegrate everything that stays in their way, although it doesn’t exist in their dimension, it’s speculated that those legendary creatures are the most dangerous beings in the multiverse…who told me? ... Mama told me!... Ok I don’t know how those legends look, but I hope that the respective humano-animal wasn’t a part of those fighters -WAIT A SECOND I HAVEN’T NAMED THE GUY YET, hmmm…let’s see…Neferis…no, to Grecian…Falohe, no, to Hawaiian, hmmm…Do…Ba…Aaaa I know, Zentofea, why this name? I DON’T KNOW!

                      Back to the story: That Zentofea -Oh gosh, I love this name- came closer to me being just as predictable as unpredictable like before, but the Zeantofea…Zen-a-to-fe-a?... seeming to be more furious. I said quickly:

                      --WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME! the Zento- Agh- that humano-animal, appeared to attack me, …but no, he/she? Destroyed the boulder behind me to make clear way to the outside world…really nice gesture from a   wild animal…By the way, after that giant stone, there was a pasture full of cold crystal flowers - why didn’t they named them ice flowers-: WOW, I hope you wanted to do this for the first time, because you might just miss and… Ya’ know…

                       At first, the animal had a disapproving look, and then it smiled and leaved:                   ��

                       --Ok…anyway…I’M GOOD! Now I seriously need to find that person, the battlefield is getting dirty, and I don’t want to clean the mess…I made a few turns in the pasture…aaand then I got lost…Um…I think I should go in that way…or that way…or…that…way…uuuh, …HEEEELP! After the previous phrase a humano-animal came out of the forest near the pasture: DUDE, if I owe you, every time you appear, I’ll buy you a yacht. Then the animal came closer, showing itself not being a Zentofea, but a humano-animal with a body of a wolf, a more evolved wolf, with human head and some different sized crystals placed uniform on the fluffy chest -I should wear glasses.

                       It came and smelled me:

                       --Uuuh, are you some sort of dog? it has stopped from smelling for a second and showed his sharp fangs… sharper than Zentoffe-a’s ones -I’m still thinking how to pronounce it correctly-…anyway…of course I got scared: UUUH, GOOD BOY, GOOD BOY, SIT! He growled: WHAT, DID I OFFENDED YOU IN SOME WAY?!SAY! LOOK I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND WHAT YOU ARE, BUT TO KNOW THAT TODAY IS MY FIRST DAY IN HERE, AND ALL THE ANIMALS ALREADY HATE ME!

                        --Get out of our territory, Zentofea!

                       --Ooooh, so it’s pronounced Zentofe-e-a, ok I noted AND HEY, HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT NAME, and did you say “OUR territory”!? after that phrase, a bunch of more humano-animals came out of the forest. Ya’ know, don’t ya’ think you have to many friends? They were slowly approaching me, I know, you think that I could’ve escaped, but the answer is NO, I couldn’t escape because I was surrounded, and I also know I could have jumped, but those animals seemed to have springs instead of legs, really now, I think they evolved from kangaroos…Siberian kangaroos. Many of those animals had an white with a little of black fur, WE C-CONTINUE: So I was there surrounded by those oversized human-headed dumb dogs, I was helpless, TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII- increase the suspense-IIIIIIIIIIIILLL … nothing happened, I’m kidding, I figure it out that:” BUT WAIT I HAVE SECRET WEAPONS TOO!”. I tried to annoy myself to get my claws out, first time it didn’t work, and then I thought about the most annoying thing for me, not even this worked because I love all the things unless the things that I hate, so I went to Karate, Judo, and putting my fingers in other one’s eyes:

                       --OUCH, WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!

                        --That’s how I know!

                        Even with my MASTER moves, I still couldn’t stop those hundreds of humano-wolves - hmm, surprising- until one bit my tail. In that moment I was angry- I took out the sharp fangs, yellow eyes with small pupil and iris, big claws, now I don’t boast myself, but I took down at least 20 wolves, ok I boast myself a little bit. Doesn’t matter because everything happened in my MIND, after that guy who I put my fingers in his eyes, another one threw a stump in my head.

                         I woke up tied up of a plank, carried by 4 human-wolves -I’ll name them later- to the chief of the tribe. They put me in a cage, still tied, with fire under the cage, very chill. The chief said:

                         --Oh, divine spirit of the frozen forest we give you this offering in exchange of a great dinner.

                         --An offering for a great dinner? Do you know that you can hunt? I mean you’re half wolves after all!

                         --GASP, who would’ve done such a shameful deed!? They looked offended.            

                        --Says the guy who is making an offering to a horse!

                         --It’s a majestic wolf!

                         --Riiight, you really aren’t good at sculpture!

                         --Oh, yes, we are, everyone is criticizing us, and why aren’t you worried, you’ll be burnt, are you a player?

                         --OF COURSE, I AM -a brilliant idea just crossed my mind- n-not…of course I am NOT a player, because I’m a destroyer undercover!

                         A sound of surprise came from tribe:

                          --Wait a second why did you smell like a Zentofea?

                          --Well, it’s a special thing that none of you heard about, it’s called perfume!

                          --Oh!

                          --A-and if you don’t untie me, I’ll destroy you ALL!

                          --But if you’re a destroyer and you can destroy us, why didn’t you destroy the rope and the cage already?

                          --Uh- OH, yeah…uh, thanks…I forgot I can… DO… that -I was pretending to concentrate to destroy the cage, but as an amazing coincidence, a thing came out of nowhere and cut the iron box and saved me…still tied up…but free…i-in a way. Uuuuh, yeah, I telepathically sent a message to a recruit to save me, good job soldier! I caressed his head, good part he was fluffy, bad part he pulled out a laser gun from his pocket and pointed it to my forehead, he had 2 guns, the other one was pointed at the public -how dangerous can be a creature with 3 feet high:

                           --Run! Said The Short One, that’s how I call him, with a deep voice.

                           --I would’ve run already, if I haven’t my legs TIED UP!

                           --A Zentofea has stronger muscle power in lower limbs!

                           --…Yes…

                           --…That means that you can rip the string that ties your legs!

                           --Ooooh! I ripped the strings and I ran… after a few seconds I stopped and I returned to The Short One.

                           --WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING, I TOLD YOU TO RUN!

                           --I won’t let you down!

                           --I’ve been here more than you so I learned a lot in my time!

                           --Ok, I trust you on this, but can I do somethin’?

                            --Yes, try to survive!

                            --…I hope I can do that!

                            Well, it appears that The Short One had a plan to escape from that situation, I don’t know how, but The Short One shot with the laser gun in a cold crystal (ice), bounced off another two cold crystals (two pieces of ice), and then to the base of a tree, that rip causing a chain reaction, putting down tree by tree, the last tree falling in front of the angry crowd:

                           --WOOOOW!

                           --COME ON, I CREATED A DIVERSION!

                           --But, wait, how did you know that tree was going to fall in front of them? I have said while I was running with The Short One.

                           --D-do you really want to know?

                           --Uh, yes?

                           --Really, no one has asked me about this for a decade!

                           --Uh, about what?

                           --Science stuff…oh my God…I’m…so…excited…(clears throat) ok I’ll tell you…GASP, first time I calculated the area between the laser gun and the target, and then I’ve calculated the variables- he continued talking until I realized that we both have stop from running.

                           --Uh, dude ya know…an entire squad of human-wolves with six packs is like…following us!

                           --…And then I measured…

                           --…Uh, maaan?

                           --…But the distance was equal with…

                           --I beg you to stop!

                           --…So, I created a way to…

                           --Sigh, who am I kidding? I took him by the arm and jumped in a tree.

                           --…Although if I would’ve taken the theory…

                           --CAN YOU KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT…please? I put my hand to his mouth and I pointed to the tribe that passed us.

                             --Oh, yeah, I-I’m sorry!

                             --Look, man, I understand your excitement, I think you’re a little lonely here by your independent character, but can ya wait until we get rid of this dorks?        

                             --Yeah, I know, and by the way I’m a girl!

                             --You are a girl, but how do you have such a deep voice? SHE took her mask off!

                             --It’s a changing voice device, dear!  

                             --Oh. My. Goodness. YOU ARE SO CUTE! I think she was the cutest specie of humano-animal that I’ve ever met in my life. I hugged her… SHE WAS FLUFFY!

                             --Look, that’s why I’m always wearing a mask…ok, this and other 3 reasons!

                             --Daaww, why, like someone would really attack you?

                             --Yes, many would attack me, players, qualified and unqualified hunters, maybe…MY OWN ENEMIES!?

                             --Aaww, but wait, you have enemies?

                             --Yes!

                             --Why?

                             --Because of my high intelligence!

                             --Really, well, that means that you have common enemies with many of your species.

                             --Meh, not really, I’m a very rare case, usually creatures in my species are…

                             --Let me guess, dumb, goofy, jerks, but with no reason?  

                             --I wanted to say idiots, but your description is much more extensive.

                             --I know how it feels, I mean a lot of people from my species are like that!

                             --Zentofea?

                             --No, humans…but I have one question, how does everybody know about this name? I named that creature!

                             --Uh, no, it has been named like that since forever!    

                             --How?...

                             --Look, stop asking useless questions and care about your purpose!

                             --My purpose…OH YEAH, MY PURPOSE, I FORGOT ABOUT IT!

                             --How can you forget your own objective?

                             --My PURPOSE…is that an ocean? I’d said while I was exiting the forest.

                             --Yes, the terrestrial space from this planet is predominant in isles and archipelagos!

                             --DAMN IT, how am I going to cross the ocean now?

                             --But why do you want to cross it? Do you need to cover a territory?

                             --No…

                             --Do you want to conquer a territory?

                             --…No…

                             --Then why do you want to cross the ocean?

                             --I want to change the world!

                             --Wait, you want to change the world…alone?

                             --Nope, that’s why I’m looking for a person to help me!

                             --Wow, really…wow, you’re the first person who said that! Hey, HEY, what are you doing? I took off my boots, I rolled up my jeans and I tried to run above the water, for 3 seconds I really have run above the water, and then I began to sink. I swam back to the beach.

                              --So, do you wanna tell me…where…the heck…were you thinking?

                              --I thought that I could run on water.

                              --Kiddo, if in your dimension exists some force who keep things together, however are you calling…

                              --Gravity…

                              --I knew about that name, I’m a genius, I just wanted to clarify that you know what I’m talking about…What I wanted to say, is that, the respective force exists in this universe too, but it acts with a different attraction.

                              --Aha, so what other idea do you have?

                              --Hmmm, first, you still didn’t answer the previous question!

                              --Well, I think the person might be after the ocean!

                            --Do you think that this motivation is certain, I mean isn’t assuming an attempt to know something that can be inexistent, do you really think, in this life anything can have a scope, don’t you think that life is an illusion meant to prepare us of everything what can be beyond the bars of reality?

                              I remained without words:

                              --I made this up 10 seconds ago, what’s so hard to understand?

                              --No, no…I-I understood!

                              --Then why are you doing this!

                              --Um, I don’t know…I think I just needed an adventure!

                              --Then why did you choose to change this world?

                              --I don’t kn-…YOU KNOW WHAT, leave me alone with those weird questions, you’ll provoke me an existential crisis!

                              --Ok!

                              --I just wanted to know How. Can. I. Cross. THE DAMN OCEAN?  

                              --Stay chill kid, I’ve got this! She took out a thing from her pocket and she blew in it, then a 45 feet animal came out of water and it wasn’t a blue whale. A little help from a seahorse!

                               --You can’t put the words “seahorse” and “little” referring to that thing!

                               --Oh, yes, I can. Player, say hi to Rudolf!

                               --RUDOLF? WHAT ARE YOU…SANTA…THE BARBARIAN!?

                               --Not really. Rudolf, say hello to the player! He said hello…i-in his language.

                               --Yep, I’m clearly going to make a raAAF- the monster picked me and sank into the water!

                               --Bye, bye, bon voyage through the ocean!

                               The monster took me to a temple under the water. In temple:

                                --COUGH…when I said to cross the ocean I DIDN’T MEAN UNDER WATER! All the torches in the room blew up.

                                --Greetings, my dear child! Said an old lady when she appeared from nowhere in front of my face.

                                --HOLY SHAMALAMA…sigh…ma’am I think you have the wrong person!

                                --No, no, that’s how I tell to the visitors!

                                --Ooo, so, you have tourists…riiight!

                                --No, every new player comes to me for the closet! She showed me like a Chinese closet -I made a redundancy, everything is made in China.

                                 --Closet, do you have problems with the furniture?

                                 --No, they get in it!

                                 --So…you kidnap kids... I’m calling the police!

                                 --No, you didn’t understand, it will be worth, plus is no police station in the middle of the ocean!

                                 --You’re the creepiest person I’ve ever met in my life!

                                 --Many people say that! Now, come on, it doesn’t bite!

                                 --At least I got rid of a fear! I got in the closet, immediately after I got in, I remained unconscious and I woke up in another world.

                                 I’ve heard a girly voice:

                                 --WARM WELCOME TO THE DIMENSION OF THOUGHTS! Said a grey colored skin girl with black clothes and amber colored eyes. And I’m the Spirit of Thoughts!

                                 --AAAAA!

                                 --Hmm, I thought that a Zentofea wouldn’t fear of literally everyone who says hello!

                                 --How did you know about that…AND MORE IMPORTANT, HOW DOES EVERYBODY KNOWS ABOUT THAT NAME!?

                                 --Well, first, I know what every player thinks, and second, I know about that name because I put it!

                                 --But ho-

                                 --How do I know that? Well, the answer is in the name, MY NAME, DUH!

                                 --And how did I-

                                 --And how did you name it? Ho ho, well, that’s simple kid, it’s because all of those subliminal messages that I left around the place!

                                 --If-

                                 --If I control the thoughts, why didn’t I end the war, yet? …It’s because that war shouldn’t end, it’ll declare the true leader of this world, like you said it must be a good, brave, and worthy person to clean this mess.

                                --An-

                                --And that means-

                                --Oh, will you please let me talk?

                                --Ok, go ahead!

                                --…And that means I’ll have to fight to make a little difference?

                                --Kid, I think that you will change the whole world, trust me, I don’t say this to any other player…but you have to fight for that, although it’s like the real life!

                                --Yeah…it is!

                                --…So, are you ready for your first match?

                                --Y-yes…yes, I do! Let the game begins.

[miloscat]

[Review] Conker: Live & Reloaded (XB)

Let’s see just how well this misguided remake/expansion holds up. This will be a long one!

Conker’s Bad Fur Day is my favourite N64 game. It’s cinematic and ambitious, technically impressive, has scads of gameplay variety with fun settings and setpieces, and when I first played it I was just the right age for the humour to land very well for me. A scant four years later Rare remade it for the Xbox after their acquisition by Microsoft, replacing the original multiplayer modes with a new online mode that would be the focus of the project, with classes and objectives and such.

First, an assessment of the single-player campaign. On a revisit I can see the common criticisms hold some water: the 3D platformer gameplay is a bit shaky at times, certain gameplay segments are just plain wonky and unfair, and some of the humour doesn’t hold up. It’s got all the best poorly-aged jokes: reference humour, gross-out/shock humour, and poking fun at conventions of the now dormant 3D collectathon platformer genre. I also am more sensitive these days to things like the sexual assault and homophobia undertones to the cogs, or Conker doing awful things for lols. Having said that, there’s plenty that I still find amusing, and outside of a few aggravatingly difficult sequences (surf punks, the mansion key hunt, the submarine attack, the beach escape) I do still appreciate the range of things you do in the game.

As for the remake, I’m not sure it can be called an improvement by any metric. Sure, there’s some minor additions. There’s a new surgeon Tediz miniboss, the new haunted baby doll enemy, and the opening to Spooky has been given a Gothic village retheme along with an added—though unremarked on—costume for Conker during this chapter based on the Hugh Jackman Van Helsing flop. Other changes are if anything detrimental. The electrocution and Berri’s shooting cutscenes have been extended, thus undermining the joke/emotional impact. The original game used the trope of censoring certain swear words to makes lines more funny; the remake adds more censorship for some reason, in one case (the Rock Solid bouncer scene) ruining the joke, and Chucky Poo’s Lament is just worse with fart noises covering the cursing.

The most egregious change, and one lampshaded in the tutorial, is the replacement of the frying pan (an instant and satisfying interaction) with a baseball bat which must be equipped, changing the control and camera to the behind-the-back combat style, and then swung with timed inputs to defeat the many added armoured goblings and dolls carelessly dumped all throughout the game world. This flat out makes the game less fun to play through.

On top of this, all the music has been rerecorded (with apologies to Robin Beanland, I didn’t really notice apart from instances where it had to be changed, such as in Franky’s boss fight where the intensely frenetic banjo lead was drastically reduced as a concession to the requirement to actually play it in real life), and the graphics totally redone. Bad Fur Day made excellent use of textures, but with detail cranked up, the sixth generation muddiness, and a frankly overdone fur effect, something is lost. I’m not a fan of the character redesigns either; sure Birdy has a new hat, but I didn’t particularly want to see Conker’s hands, and the Tediz are no longer sinister stuffed bears but weird biological monster bears with uniforms. On top of all this you notice regular dropped details; a swapped texture makes for nonsensical dialogue in the Batula cutscene, and characters have lost some emotive animations. Plus, the new translucent scrolling speech bubbles are undeniably worse.

I could mention the understandable loading screens (at least they’re quick), the mistimed lip sync (possibly exacerbated by my tech setup), or the removal of cheats (not a big deal), but enough remake bashing. To be fair, the swimming controls have been improved and the air meter mercifully extended, making Bats Tower more palatable. And some sequences have been shortened to—I suppose—lessen gameplay tedium (although removing the electric eel entirely is an odd choice). But let’s cover the multiplayer. Losing the varied modes from the original is a heavy blow, as I remember many a fun evening spent in Beach, War, or Raptor, along with the cutscenes setting up each mode.

The new headline feature of this release is the Live mode. The new Xbox Live service allowing online multiplayer was integrated, although it’s all gone now. Chasing the hot trends of the time, it’s a set of class-based team missions, with the Squirrel High Command vs. the Tediz in a variety of scenarios, mostly boiling down to progressing through capture points or capture the flag. Each class is quite specialised and I’m not sure how balanced it is, plus there’s proto-achievements and unlocks behind substantial milestones none of which I got close to reaching (I don’t think I could get most of them anyway, not being “Live”).

The maps are structured around a “Chapter X” campaign in which the Tediz and the weasel antagonist from BFD Ze Professor (here given a new and highly offensive double-barrelled slur name) are initially fighting the SHC in the Second World War-inspired past of the Old War, before using a time machine, opening up a sci-fi theme for the Future War. These are mainly just aesthetic changes, but it’s a fun idea and lets them explore Seavor’s beloved wartime theming a bit more while also bringing in plenty of references to Star Wars, Alien, Dune, and Halo; mostly visual.

Unfortunately the plot is a bit incoherent, rushed through narration (unusually provided by professional American voice actor Fred Tatasciore rather than a Rare staffer doing a raspy or regional voice like the rest of the game) over admittedly nice-looking cutscenes. They also muddle the timeline significantly, seemingly ignoring the BFD events... and then the Tediz’ ultimate goal is to revive the hibernating Panther King, when the purpose of their creation was to usurp him in the first place! It expands on the Conker universe but in a way that makes the world feel smaller and more confusing. It’s weird, and also Conker doesn’t appear at all.

On top of this, I found the multiplayer experience itself frustrating. To unlock the full Chapter X, you need to play the first three maps on easy, then you can go through the whole six. But I couldn’t pass the first one on normal difficulty! The “Dumbots” seemed to have so much health and impeccable aim, while the action was so chaotic, obscured by intrusive UI, floating usernames, and smoke and other effects with loads of characters milling around, not to mention the confusing map layouts, the friendly fire, the instant respawns, and the spawncamping. Luckily I could play the maps themselves in solo mode with cutscenes and adjustable AI and options.

I found some classes much more satisfying than others. I tried to like the Long Ranger and the slow Demolisher, but found it difficult to be accurate. The awkward range of the Thermophile and the Sky Jockey’s rarely effective vehicles made them uncommon choices. I had most success with the simple Grunt, or the melee-range Sneeker (the SHC variant of which is sadly the sole playable female in the whole thing). You can pick up upgrade tokens during gameplay to expand the toolset of each class, which range from necessary to situational. But ultimately it’s a crapshoot, as I rarely felt that my intentions led to clear results.

Live & Reloaded is such a mess. The Reloaded BFD is full of odd decisions and baffling drawbacks, while the Live portion feels undercooked. I’d have preferred a greater focus on either one; a remake is unnecessary, especially only four years on, but a new single-player adventure would have been ace. And a multiplayer mode in this universe with its own story mode could be cool if it was better balanced and had more to it than just eight maps. As a source of some slight scrapings of new Conker content I appreciated it to some extent, but I can’t help being let down. I guess it’s true what they say... the grass is always greener. And you don’t really know what it is you have, until it’s gone... gone. Gone.

Yes, that ending is still genuinely emotionally affecting.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.22

Channeling his outer age instead of his inner, Lance let his manners go out the window somewhere after his third glass of wine. Each glass was technically two glasses, so now he had a nice pleasant buzz going on as he sat on his kitchen counter with Blue. He’d totally been a “Debby Downer”, and if he wasn’t kind of still having a slightly premature midlife crisis, he would have invited Hunk over to hang with him and Keith... Right. Like he could do that. What was he supposed to tell Hunk if he suddenly like sneezed and turned into a bat? God... What if he couldn’t jerk off anymore and what if he turned into a bat when he tried? Wait... when was the last time he tried to jerk off? Fuck... He couldn’t remember.

“Laaaaance? Are you even fucking listening?”

Keith looked grumpy, glaring at the pizza base before him. Keith wasn’t quite ready for the whole pizza from scratch experience, so Lance had grabbed a few bases much to the disgust of Hunk

“Sorry. I completely zoned out. What’s up?”

“I asked you what the hell I’m supposed to do with this thing?”

Keith had barely spread the sauce across the base. Trying to get the woodfired oven on had been the easiest part of the whole ordeal. Keith really loved setting shit on fire. Shiro was now in even deeper shit over the things he hadn’t taught his brother, and for apparently raising an anger loaf that was also a pyromaniac

“You want to put about twice the amount of sauce on the base. Then you put the cheese on. You gotta put the cheese on the bottom because it’s like the glue that sticks your toppings down”

Keith reached out, plucking the wine glass out of Lance’s hand

“No more until you’ve had dinner”

“But...”

“Nope. If I have to cook, you have to tell me what the fuck I’m doing”

Ugh. Stupid Keith. He was ruining Lance’s budding buzz. Scooching Blue away, Lance slid himself off the counter, to move behind Keith

“Now what are you doing?”

Rolling his eyes at the hunter, Lance grabbed the squeezie bottle of pizza sauce around him

“I told you. You need more sauce. Here, I’ll squeeze and you spread”

“Don’t day that again?”

“What? Squeeze and spread?”

Keith huffed at him in annoyance. This was probably the closest they’d been in their human forms. Keith was between his arms, his heart was racing, as Lance teased him by standing right behind him

“That. You’re supposed to be the mature one here”

“Ah, young grasshopper. I’m slightly, a bit, maybe, tipsy. And I may also sound like a douche right now, but Shiro should have taught you how to make pizza. How do you live in Rome, and not know how to make a damn pizza? I feel like someone in Italy just died”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Yep. But you asked what to do. Spread he sauce across the base, then add the cheese”

Squeezing the bottle too hard, the lid popped off, sauce going pretty much everywhere in the immediate radius

“You did that on purpose?! Can’t you just be normal?!”

Keith saw red, Lance stepping out of his personal space with his hands up in surrender

“I swear that wasn’t on purpose. Take your shirt off, I’ll put it in to soak”

“There’s washing machine...”

That there was. But Lance hadn’t said to strip and chuck his shirt in the wash

“I know that. That’s why I said I’d put it in to soak”

“I know how to soak a shirt. Whatever. This is pointless.. You can’t even take this seriously”

Lance’s mood began to fall. He hadn’t meant to piss Keith off. He’d honestly squeezed too hard by accident... Now he felt like a dick. Drunk Lance was a tad obnoxious

“You’re right. I can’t even control how hard I squeeze a plastic bottle, how am I supposed to teach you anything when I’m like this? Go put your shirt in to soak, I’ll clean this up”

“What... but...”

“You don’t have to pretend Keith. It’s fine. For the foreseeable future it’s your home too. You don’t have to go along with the things I say. I thought it might be fun, but I messed it up. I’ll be in my office for the rest of the night. Make sure you eat. Don’t worry about the mess... I’ll deal with it when I’ve calmed down”

*

Whatever that was, Keith was kind of sure he’d been the one who’d messed up. He’d thought Lance was genuinely mocking him when he stood behind all weirdly, and popped the bottle of pizza sauce everywhere. He’d made pizzas with Shiro before, but those had the sauce and cheese already on the base, and he wasn’t actually that keen on pizzas that seemed to swim in sauce. He wasn’t even really that mad about his shirt, considering it was black. They’d kind of had a moment where he thought things might be okay. He’d noticed Lance frowning at his wine glass, and thought dragging him out of his thoughts was the right thing to do. Now he’s gone and fucked up. Lance had fled from him.

Staring at the sauce, Keith nodded to himself. Lance might think he hated him, and he didn’t want that... not that he liked Lance, but they were stuck together and the man seemed pretty high strung, despite the way he was acting. He could totally make pizza for dinner... Alone. Unsupervised. He wasn’t some kid who knew nothing. The toaster had totally eaten his toast and was to blame went it went up in flames. He could do this. He was going to do this and Lance was going to eat pizza because fuck him and his overdramatic arse.

Scraping the sauce onto another base, Keith left a trail of mess as he figured things out. He didn’t know what herbs went on pizza, yet he didn’t have to when the herb jars came labelled and one conveniently said “Pizza Herbs”. Herbs were spilt, Blue leapt up to eat the cheese and diced ham that went the same way as the herbs. He didn’t know how Lance felt about garlic, but a few cloves wound up on both their pizzas all the same. Yeah. He could totally do this. His skill left much to be desired, but Keith was quietly proud as he slid both pizzas into the oven... both way too loaded, with toppings that’d slid into the middle as he moved them.

Waiting until it looked done, Keith had nothing else to do but play with Blue. She was cute, and she didn’t seem to have the same attitude as her owner. Licking sauce off her paw, her little tongue poked out as Keith interrupted her grooming by wiping his hand over the crumbs on the bench, knocking some onto the floor in his attempt to “clean up”. Maybe he should get a pet? Something to wait for him when he got home... He wouldn’t mind a cat like Blue, secretly feeling black cats were the best despite what people might say with their silly superstitions. Distracted by Blue and the crumbs, Keith swore as he smelt something burning, Blue jumping off the counter and running out the kitchen as if he’d insulted everything she’d held dear by semi-yelling “fuck!”.

The pizzas weren’t cremated. Slightly black around the edges, with the cheese in the middle kind of weirdly unmelted but golden enough to pass as done. He didn’t need Lance to tell him what to do. He’d done it all by himself, like the 26 year old man he was. Now all he had to do was plate up... after he reclaimed his pizzas from the oven. Shiro always did them in a normal oven, pulling the pizza out by the side of the crust, having pushed them further back, Keith didn’t fancy getting burned on the flat metal trays built into the wood oven. His go to were tongs... succeeding in ripping the crust, meaning he had to try pull them out by hand... burning his fingertips as he did. That didn’t matter. He’d proved Lance wrong by creating two edible pizzas and he was pretty damn proud. Keith wanted to try out his new camera to photograph his kitchen triumph, but he also wanted to wait until after dinner when he could crash out on the lounge and explore its features properly...

Keith came to a stop, realising what he’d been thinking. He was... first he called this place “home”, now he was making plans to spend the evening binging horror movies as he played with his camera... He was far too comfortable here... What would Lance think if he made himself at home? Would be happy? Or would he be interrupting Lance’s night by taking over the TV? Lance wasn’t in a great place... Crap. What if he’d turned back into a bat? Would he be mad if Keith ate his pizza? Maybe if he cut them up and served them on two plates in the living room, it wouldn’t be weird for Keith to eat Lance’s share? If he was a bat, he could sit on the coffee table and nibble around the edges... Shit... The hunter’s hand itched to grab his phone out so he could call Shiro for help... Buuuuut... Shiro would be cranky if he called him over the best way to casually rub Lance’s face in the fact he’d made dinner. His brother might not even believe he’d been the one who cooked... Fuck. Okay. He could do this. It was pizza night with Shiro, only Lance was Shiro, and he wasn’t that great of a stand in... but the principle of the night was the same. Beer, pizza, horror movies...

*

Setting up things in the living room, Keith pulled up Netflix, leaving the remote conveniently close. He’d moved Lance’s glass of red wine and blood next to one of the pizzas, and uncapped his beer beside his own. Trying to cut through the slices with the pizza cutter hadn’t worked, just like those stupid wheels never worked the other hundred times he’d tried. Running his fingers through his hair, he felt king of nervous. He wanted to do a nice thing, kind of... Plus he hadn’t destroyed Lance’s kitchen in the process, so that definitely earned him extra brownie points. Now he just had to disturb Lance and hope he wasn’t about to be attacked for doing so.

Knocking on Lance’s office door, the vampire didn’t even acknowledge his presence. Slightly miffed that Lance was being so petty, he threw it open and succeeding in scare the crap out of him. Leaning back in his chair, Lance had some weird green goo covering his face, his ears covered with headphones... or rather, that’d been the way it’d been before he’d scared Lance badly enough he’d fallen out of his chair

“Jesus! What the hell, man?!”

Stifling a laugh, Keith sucked in his lips, Lance collecting himself up as he slid his headphones down. It was time to drop that bomb

“I made dinner”

Lance pursed his lips, brow wrinkled as he paused pushing himself up

“You should come grab something to eat. We’re having dinner in front of the TV”

Lance tilted his head to the left. The position he was in didn’t look comfortable

“You made dinner?”

“You don’t need to sound so shocked”

“But I messed things up”

“Not everything revolves around your actions. Whatever. You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to”

“What? No. Dude. I mean... I didn’t think... You cooked?”

Lance didn’t seem as impressed as Keith had hoped, he seemed more dubious over the quality of the food. Now Keith felt kind of annoyed he’d mentally made a big deal of it

“Pizza, beer, and movies... Shiro and I tried to do it when we could”

“You and Shiro cooked?”

Keith wished he had something he could throw at Lance. He didn’t need to sound so damn shocked. Cross his arms, the hunter’s voice held the strong tone of a pout

“We’re not useless. It’s not that hard to put some stuff on a pizza and bake it. If you’re going to keep making a deal of it, then you can make your own dinner”

“I didn’t say you were useless. I’m surprised seeing I was a total dick”

“You weren’t a dick. I thought you were making fun of me until I remembered that you can’t actually control your strength that well at the moment, not that the wine helped. I’m heading back to the living room, you do whatever you want”

“Dude, I’m totally there. Give me a tick to wash this stuff off, then I’ll be all good to go”

That right there was why he couldn’t keep up with Lance. That sudden change in upward mood wasn’t something he was used to. Most hunters had seen too much shit to be that happy, ever. Now his whole damn face was lit up, like Keith had given him some great gift. Fucked if Keith knew what it was meant to be, and fucked if he was going to waste brain power figuring it out.

Heading back to the living room, Keith flopped down on the sofa with a satisfied groan. Blue watching it his every move judgmentally from her spot on the tv cabinet as Keith forced himself up to retrieve his pizza and his beer, slumping back then noticing the remote laying on the table, the bastard out of reach. Keith rubbed at his face with his right hand, before leaning forward again to snag the remote. There wasn’t anything in particular he had in mind, more after background noise so fill in the gaps when Lance clammed up. Keith could see it now. He’d ask, Lance would say “after dinner”, then the chance to talk would slip away. Sliding out a piece of ham, Blue came flying, straight up into Keith’s lap with both paws on his leg as she craned upwards for the tasty treat

“Don’t tell you father”

“Don’t tell me what? Blue, are you conning food out again?”

Blue was on her third tiny square of ham as Lance shuffled in, he’d changed into his pyjamas, slippers scuffing on the wooden floor

“What was that?”

“I heard you telling her not to tell”

“Oh. She’s allowed ham, isn’t she?”

Keith couldn’t remember if it was cats or dogs who weren’t supposed to have ham

“Just a little bit. Wow, it looks good”

Keith went with the topic change, it was best to let Lance think he had his guard down

“Of course it does, I made it myself”

“You must have had a great teacher. What are we watching?”

“I was thinking something horror. Shiro and I like to point out everything they got wrong”

“Now you sound like Pidge. We only watch the b-grade stuff because Hunk gets scared”

Lance sidestepped his way between Keith and the coffee table, Keith realising he hadn’t put much space between them as he’d given his new camera a whole cushion space to itself

“Does Hunk gets scared often?”

“He has a healthy fear of everything that he needs to. He’s the biggest ball of warm feels in existence”

Lance sat himself down carefully, avoiding dropping down and causing Keith’s pizza to slide

“No one can be that nice”

“Hunk is. He would have come home tonight with me if I’d let him. He’s like chronically stuck in care bear mode. No one can be mad at Hunk, it’s like physically impossible”

Keith didn’t buy it. Everyone had that point they reached when all that was left was anger

“There had to be a time he got mad...”

Lance nodded as he leaned forward to grab his plate of pizza and what was left of his wine

“Yeah. But never without good reason, and he always faces his fears. He’s not too bad with spooky movies, but when you get into in the TV shows, he gets jumpy. Out of respect, we don’t watch a lot of squeamish things, you know, those movies they make filled with bloody scenes purely to have bloody scenes. I have so much respect for him”

Lance truly loved his friends. Keith could hear it in his words as plainly as he could see it on his face

“And Pidge?”

“She’d set the world on fire with a smile if you messed with her or anyone she loved. She’s fierce, but amazing. She’s like a super hacker, and she’s never met a piece of tech she hasn’t been able to make her bitch”

It must be nice to have friends like that. Friends that had your back for no reason other than the fact you were friends. Keith couldn’t say he knew that feeling, always feeling on the outside as everyone else moved on without him. He’d worked with other hunters, and had classes and training with other hunters, yet still felt insignificant. It scared him to think about what they’d say about him.

Lance settled back, elbowing him playfully as he did

“This really does look good. I didn’t mean to get sauce everywhere. I kind of lost it for a bit when I got back to my office. Now, if we’re watching some bad horror movie, please don’t pick anything with vampires. They always get it wrong”

“You’re not bloodsucking monsters that turn to ash in the sun?”

“Nope. Some of us are. I don’t”

Keith raised an eyebrow

“You don’t, what?”

“Turn into ash. I can see my reflection. I think maybe a stake to heart might kill me off, but I’m not 100 percent sure”

“You can walk around in the sun?”

“I can sun bake and everything. Plus, no sparkles bitches”

God’s love was found in the light. Vampires were supposed to be turn to dust because God had turned his back on them. Keith was a little dubious over the whole thing, but exorcists did exist, so there had to be something there

“I thought you’d love to be all sparkly”

“Nah. It’d draw too much attention. Younger me, maybe. Current me, not so much”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m old and cranky. I want to live as normally as possible. I don’t want to turn into a damn disco ball when all I want to do is enjoy a little bit of sun”

This guy had to be an idiot. Keith forcing himself not to gape. He wanted information on vampires, and now Lance had turned off his filter completely

“What else did they get wrong?”

“I firmly believed the whole “bat thing” was wrong until I went and turned into one. Garlic doesn’t really do much. I can eat human foods, but after about half an hour I need to use the bathroom. Blood... bags are good. I mean, I prefer them over anything fresh. As far as I know we don’t survive being burned to death, I know there’s a myth about turning into a bat and grave soil, but I’ve never tried it. Wounds we give ourselves sometimes take much longer to heal than something like being stabbed. Being immortal sucks arse. They got the rage and ego bit right. Silver’s not terrible. I show up on camera... I have super human senses, and can move faster than you’d think... I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know either”

Keith did. He wanted to know everything when it came to a human who’d been turned. He wanted to understand what Adam had been through in his final hours

“I do”

Lance raised his eyebrow at him, Keith wondering he’d been sprung for pushing him to talk

“I think you’d know more about being a vampire than I would. I was never one for clans and covens. I’ve met other vampires and honestly, they scared me. The first time I saw a vampire feed on a human pet, I threw up. The way they treated people... I couldn’t do it. Vampires have egos. Feeding that ego is a dangerous game. I know I’m probably not the only one who’s trying to live as normally as possible, but it makes it hard to reach out to anyone when they’re mostly douches. Werewolves are kind of the same, except it’s all about how strong they are. There’s pack leaders, but that’s only because that’s a human concept. There’s no alpha leader, instead there’s a pack leader. Some dick that always thinks they’re the greatest thing since the invention of the wheel. It’s fucked up and enough to drive you mad if you spend too long in that world”

Krolia had spent years in that world. Keith hadn’t even known what a legacy was when Shiro showed up in his life. He’d been a burden all his life since the death of his father. Shiro had opened a whole new world to him, had given him a home and a purpose to exist. They might not be biological brothers, but being biologically related to someone didn’t necessarily make them family. Family was something you built, sometimes from absolutely nothing at all. He didn’t know how to talk to his mother any more than he knew how to talk to Lance. For Krolia her duty always came first...

“Can I ask you something?”

“I thought we were past that”

“How did you get turned?”

Lance sighed heavily

“That’s not a great topic of conversation”

“I imagine it’s not... but...”

“You want to understand what happened to Adam. What he went through. I can’t tell you that. Only that he’s in a better place”

“He’s dead”

Nothing happened why you died... Keith couldn’t say he was convinced over this heaven and hell stuff...

“I’d rather be dead than risking the lives of those I love. Turning... it brings up a lot of memories that won’t leave me alone. Some humans take the turn willingly and I can’t for the life of me think why. Maybe if they had a kind sire, and you know, they had like absolutely no choice and I don’t know... but... it’s hard to talk about. Ten out of Ten would not recommend. I guess that makes me like that 1 dentist that never recommends shit”

Keith groaned deeply, dropping his head back and staring at Lance

“Why do you always do that? Deflect like that to humour?”

“Because some things are so fucked up thay if you don’t laugh you’re gonna fucking cry. It’s my unhealthy coping mechanism, like some people have smoking”

“It’s annoying. It makes it hard to like you”

Lance beamed at him, Keith had the feeling he was being mocked again

“Aw man, you like me!”

“Go fuck yourself”

“Eh, too much like effort. Who needs sex when you’ve got pizza. Thanks for this. I think I needed it”

“You’re welcome, but you can still go fuck yourself”

Lance had the nerve to wink at him

“Only if you go first”

Keith blushed red, spluttering some kind of loud squeak before promptly shutting up. Lance could suck his metaphorical dick.

[ewankoseyo]

pet names || mark imagine

A/N: By popular demand and in celebration of our favorite #Marknae’s birthday, I present to you a continuation of Mark’s fake dating drabbles! Hope you enjoy!

Warning: Some swearing idk 

Please read you owe me and just for show before reading this.

Pretending to date Mark would be a lot easier if it wasn’t so hard to tell when he was acting and when he wasn’t.

——

Mark said a lot of stupid things, but this was probably the most stupid thing to come out of his mouth by far.

“Mark, you’re a grown ass man. Why would you need to pretend to date when you could just, I don’t know, go out and find someone you actually like?”

Mark sighed as he put his mug down and ran a hand through his hair. He had really hoped that you of all people would be the most understanding and not question his rationale. 

You and Mark had known each other for as long as you could remember. Legend has it that your moms purposely got pregnant at the same time so their kids would end up best friends like they were. Though you two never got along growing up—you begged your mom to never invite him over again after he told Jackson about your crush on him at your 13th birthday party—things began to shift when you both entered high school and realized you didn’t know anyone else besides each other. Out of the necessity to survive the unknown, you and Mark stuck together.  

Serendipitously, you and Mark never seemed to un-stick since then. 

Throughout the turbulence of your teenage years and your differing career paths that you were afraid would split you apart, you two remained close friends. Staying in the city after you both graduated from college, Mark vowed to stop by your new café-bakery whenever he had time off from his busy schedule in his second year of residency. 

He was really hoping that his dedication to seeing you would make you more open to the outlandish proposition. 

“That’s the thing, I don’t want to go out and find someone I like. I really don’t have the time for a relationship.” Mark sighed again, his gaze averting to the menu board behind you. He noticed the new addition to the board, written in your usual fancy hand lettering. It seems like you finally perfected the pie you’d been working on last week. You’d send him a picture of your latest attempt, asking him to stop by the shop to try it when he had the time since your taste buds could no longer tell the difference. 

“Oh, but you have the time to pretend to date me?” You cocked an eyebrow questioningly at the guy before you, pausing your cleaning motions. “What is this even for? I thought you already put her behind you a long time ago.”

You and Mark collectively shuddered at the thought of the wretched girl. Things hadn’t ended so well after two (wasted) years together. Everyone in their cohort believed them to be the perfect couple—two beautiful people at the top of their class with the brightest futures ahead of them. You always believed they would get married once their busy schedules settled down. 

That was, until Mark showed up at your apartment one night unexpectedly, his hands visibly shaking and his eyes not knowing where to look. You silently watched as he paced through your living room, explaining to you almost incoherently the cause of his distress.

“I gave her two fucking years and she really wasted half of it fucking our professor.”

Mark ended up staying over that night. As you stroked his hair softly while he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled himself into your chest, his anger washed over with melancholic fatigue, you realized that you had never seen him look so broken before. Usually Mark was the one making you feel better after some failed date, but that night, he needed you to comfort him. 

That night also felt like ages ago, and Mark had realized he was better off without his ex, so why did he need you to help him with his facade?

“I have put her behind me,” Mark assured. “But ending things with her has...opened up other problems.”

“Like what?”

“Like some other girls from my cohort clearly trying to, um, get my attention.”

You scoffed. Leave it to Mark to think that having girls fawn over you is a problem big enough to resort to something as crazy as fake-dating. 

“Just tell them you’re not interested.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Mark resigned with a knowing look. You knew he always had a problem with confrontation. “Some of these girls are actually my friends from rotations and I don’t want to hurt their feelings.” Knowing you were ready to shoot back with another smart comment, Mark quickly continued. “But that isn’t even the whole problem! Ever since other girls have taken notice to me, she is suddenly interested in me all over again. I only recently blocked her number after she kept blowing up my phone with her sorry-ass apologies asking if we could get back together, and according to Jackson, she’s been trying to get closer to the guys in an attempt to get closer to me. Poor Yugyeom got really excited because he thought an older girl was finally interested in him until Jaebum set him straight.”

You were going to make a comment about how a restraining order and maybe a few other court-sanctioned forms would easily fix his problems when his last comment finally made his whole proposition click. 

Because if his ex-girlfriend really wanted to get closer to him, she wouldn’t just get close to the guys—she would try to get close to you. 

It was no secret that she was never really fond of you while they were dating. And with you still by his side long after their relationship had gone to shit, you imagined the feeling had festered. 

“So let me get this straight...” You got out your rag from your apron and began to clean the countertop in an attempt to clean out your mind and think of the situation logically. “You want me to pretend to date you so that your ex and all of your other little fangirls will back off?”

“Yes, yes, I know this sounds crazy, but if it weren’t for the witch making everything so complicated, I wouldn’t be in such a bind.” 

“God Mark, this is some high school shit,” you say with a shake of your head. “And why would I agree to doing such a thing? What’s in it for me?”

“Because you’re kind and wonderful and would do anything to help a homie out?” You rolled your eyes at his hopeful pleading expression. His eyes had grown to the size of saucers and he pouted his lip adorably. This may have worked on his admirers, but it wasn’t going to work so easily on you. “And it wouldn’t be so much work on you. We already spend all our free time together so it wouldn’t be much of a change from how we are now. I’ll do whatever you want, within reason of course. Whatever you want, just say the word.”

You brushed passed Mark as you bussed dirty dishes and his now empty mug off the counter, ignoring his expectant expression through your motions.

“If we do this, we should probably set some ground rules.”

Pleased with your (albeit unenthusiastic) response, Mark reached over the counter to ruffle your hair. “You’re the best! Thank you so much, babe!”

“Rule number one: I hate pet names.”

Mark only chuckled at your disdain as you retreated to the kitchen to put the dishes away. As you began to load the dishwasher, you found a similar grin inching its way on your lips. 

——

As per his ground rules, Mark insisted that you two keep up the act in front of both your friends and families. In order to deter his admirers, the people closest to you needed to believe the lie as well. You weren’t going to make this huge announcement to your loved ones like it was a wedding invite, but when the opportunity to put on a show presented itself, you both were expected to take it.

This included attending a dinner party at your fake boyfriend’s best friend’s house because couples always showed up to functions as a couple, of course. 

With one of Mark’s (many, you soon realized) admirers in attendance at Jackson’s small get-together, tonight had proved to be a good night to begin your masquerade. 

No one thought anything of it when you two arrived to the house together. Mark bringing you a glass of wine from the bar while you were catching up with Jinyoung was nothing out of the ordinary. No one batted an eyelash when he casually put an arm around you as you all listened to one of Jackson’s crazy stories. 

It was when you were coming out of the bathroom and realized everyone was gathering for a group photo in the living room that suddenly caught everyone’s attention. Bambam noticed you first. 

“Oh, Noona, hurry up! It’s on timer! Guys, make some room.”

Without skipping a beat, Mark patted the spot on his lap. “It’s okay. Babe, just sit here.” 

“Babe?!”

The camera clicked as the dinner party slowly registered Mark’s words. Seeing as everyone was caught up in shock from the revelation as you nonchalantly placed yourself in Mark’s lap and embrace, it was necessary that more pictures needed to be taken. 

Thoughts of the evening flowed through your head after Mark dropped you off home and you finally got to settled into bed. Everything had felt completely normal and no one questioned your relationship with Mark until it was time to take pictures. Even when he took you on his lap, wrapping his arms around your middle as a show of affection, his cheesy smile matching yours as he placed his chin on your shoulder—to you, it had simultaneously felt so normal yet the thought caused a stir in your stomach. 

It wasn’t that weird for you and Mark to be affectionate and touchy with one another, so why couldn’t you stop thinking about his gesture from earlier?

You felt your phone buzz next to you as you tried to shake off those thoughts. Adjusting your eyes to the dim lighting, you soon realized it was a notification from Jackson. He had tagged you and Mark in a comment on a photo. 

“And the cutest couple award goes to...”

You quickly opened up Instagram to see that Jaebum had already posted the pictures from earlier. You recognized the first picture as the moment of everyone’s discovery where you and Mark were the only ones posed for the picture while everyone else looked at the both of you with a mix of shock, confusion, and excitement. The second was the normal picture where everyone was finally smiling after having calmed down a bit from the revelation (though you noticed that Mark’s admirer in attendance wasn’t quite smiling with her eyes.) The final picture was the funny one. Your eyes scanned over everyone else’s silly expressions and gestures with one another before they landed on you and Mark. He was whispering in your ear about how Jackson’s fly was unzipped the whole night and how everyone was waiting for him to find out on his own. The comment had you cackling, nearly knocking you out of his lap before you wrapped an arm around his neck for balance. Mark’s arms had instinctively held you tighter to keep you from falling. 

You were pretty sure you stared at the photo for a good ten minutes. You couldn’t believe it—you two really looked like an actual couple together. 

Was this how everyone usually saw you two? You noticed the other comments on the photo were about the big reveal as well. 

bambam1a: @yu_gyeom pay up! I told you they would get together!

333cyj333: omg I really thought they were dating already

jinyoung_0922jy: wow all the signs were there but none of us picked up on it

Was this how you usually saw the two of you? 

You immediately shut off your phone as the idea invaded your thoughts and you turned on your side to get some sleep for real. Perhaps you were getting these crazy thoughts because you weren’t getting enough sleep. 

——

As Mark predicted, pretending to be a couple didn’t put much work on you. Besides having to get used to the small PDA—you remembered turning into a blushing mess when Mark pecked you on the cheek for the first time after introducing you to his hospital friends—nothing had really changed in the way you had to act in front of people. You would still be roasting each other in front of your friends. The only difference was that Mark would pull you into his arms and plant a kiss on your forehead, muttering “just kidding, babe” soon afterwards. 

You also appreciated having Mark at your beck and call, as per your ground rules. You tried not to have him go out of his way to owe you for the favor, seeing as he was already a pretty busy and stressed out guy, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy the free dinners and him lending you his new car. 

And you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t kind of enjoy the newfound attention you were receiving. After a few public appearances as a couple and some not-so-subtle pictures showing the two of you together posted by mutual friends on social media, word quickly spread that you and Mark were a thing. People you hadn’t talk to since high school were messaging you to congratulate you on locking down the most handsome guy in your graduating class. You no longer felt like the odd single one out when hanging out with your other taken friends—and thankfully, you didn’t have to put up with them trying to set you up anymore. One time when you were waiting for Mark to finish up his shift at the hospital—he had promised you dinner and boba if you waited for him—one of his friends from his rotation had approached you. It didn’t take too long to realize she was one of his admirers. 

“You two look so cute together,” she had said, though it sounded like she was trying to convince herself rather than compliment you. “I’m surprised you and Mark only started dating recently, I always assumed you were together already.”

Your lip quirked in confusion. You had never met the girl before, so how could she make any assumptions about you and Mark? “What do you mean?”

She gave you a sad smile before looking down at her feet. “He just looks so happy when he talks about you, and he talks about you all the time. He keeps telling us to check out your shop and during our breaks, he shows us pictures of the desserts you make. He seemed so smitten with you.” 

Before you could ask her what Mark has said about you, the man in question was suddenly at your side. He beamed at you, interlacing your fingers before placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Hey princess, ready to go?”

So you and Mark were garnering a lot of attention. It was not long before you caught the attention of someone you really didn’t want to find out. 

“My mom wants us to come over this weekend for dinner.” 

You nearly choked on a boba pearl when Mark made the announcement. 

“What? Why?”

Mark gave you an apologetic look. “Apparently your mom told my mom, and you know how she is about us...she’s just really excited...”

You groaned as you took another sip of your drink. You had hoped that you would be able to put off this moment for a while longer. You were already getting an earful from your mom when she found out about you two, always nagging you to make sure that Mark was eating enough and even going as far as to sending you links to home remedies when you told her offhandedly he had caught a small cold. As much as you loved Mark’s mom, you didn’t know if you could handle acting all lovey-dovey with her son in front of her. 

Despite your apprehension, you tried to look on the bright side. “Dinner, huh? At least your mom is an amazing cook.”

Mark grinned at you across the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t ask you when you’re giving her a grandchild. She already has like two of them.”

You chuckled. “Good.”

It was true. Mark’s mom didn’t bring up anything about your future kids, but she did bring up something else.

“There’s my good daughter-in-law!”

“Mom!” Too caught off-guard by the greeting to respond, you were glad Mark spoke up first. Mark moved in front of you to hug his mom, subtly shooing her away from you as he moved inside the house. “It hasn’t even been a full month yet, don’t you think you’re jumping the gun?”

“Nonsense!” Mark’s mom moved to pinch her son’s cheek, earning a fake groan from the tall boy. “Your aunty and I have been—”

“—Trying to set us up since high school?” You interrupted before approaching the woman with open arms and a teasing smile. “You and my mom think you’re both so slick, don’t you? Hi Aunty!”

“Well, we were right, weren’t we?” Mark’s mom giggled as she led you both to the dining room. “Come eat! I made all your favorites!”

Your worries over the impending evening slowly went away over dinner. You found it quite comforting actually. Catching up with the Tuans and eating Mark’s mom’s amazing cooking reminded you of the old days when his parents would come home from work and tell you to stay for dinner when you and Mark were hanging out at his place. It was as if nothing had changed since you were a teenager. 

As you glanced over at Mark, who was miserably failing to deny the extra food his mom was forcing onto his plate, you realized that Mark hadn’t changed much either. Despite growing out of his awkward phase, he still had the same funny nose that you liked to poke to annoy him. The same bright eyes that seemed to disappear when he was laughing hysterically from a dumb joke. The same contagious smile that you found yourself slowly falling for. 

Wait, what?

“So who asked who out?” Mark’s mom asked curiously as she filled up your glass with more water. “How did this happen?”

“What?” 

“I asked her first,” Mark replied almost easily. “I think I always knew I liked her but I just took too long to ask so eventually I did it. I stopped by her shop one day and asked her out...and here we are now...” He gave you a shy smile before averting his gaze back to his plate and suddenly you felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Mark was awfully good at lying, even to his parents. 

As you prepared to leave after dinner, Mark’s mom approached the both of you with a shoebox.

“I meant to show this to you guys before, but I guess it makes more sense to give it to you now,” she explained as she opened the box. “I’m sure there are some pictures here that you’ve never seen before. Take a look through them! I’m going to pack you guys food to take home.”

Waves of nostalgia rushed over you as you rifled through the photos. Your college graduation. Your high school graduation. Mark and your family wearing matching shirts with your face on it for your volleyball senior night. You and your friends rushing the court to hug Mark for making the winning full-court shot at his basketball game. You and Mark on your first day of high school, in which you were standing a good five inches from each other and wore forced smiles to please your mothers. You with your cake on your 13th birthday—you wearing a forced smile because the picture was taken after Mark told Jackson about your crush (but you noted that Mark seemed to have a pleased smile in it.) A day when your parents took you both ice skating. A day when your parents took you on a picnic. 

“Aww, look at this one!” Mark chuckled as he held up a picture to you. “We’re probably like five here?”

It was a picture of the two of on your doorstep getting ready to trick-or-treat on Halloween. With big smiles and even bigger jackolantern buckets, you were wearing matching basketball jerseys and matching bunny ears.

You let out a laugh. “Oh my god, we were obsessed with Space Jam.”

“It was the trend back then!” Mark asserted, meeting your grin. “And look at you, you were so cute.” 

You sneered. “Yeah, I wonder what happened.”

“You became the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Before you could even try to think of a reply, Mark’s mom had come back to the living room with bags of leftovers. You soon after said your goodbyes and Mark drove you home without incident, though his words echoed in your head the whole way through.

The weird feeling you felt in your stomach was still there as he gave you his kind smile and bid you good night.

What was it about that smile?

——

Mark was acting kind of weird tonight.

Your third party (but probably 50th sighting overall) as a couple, you no longer felt so awkward about keeping up the act. There were still a few admirers who clung onto the hope that Mark may return their feelings, so you learned to get used to the frequent back hugs and forehead kisses.

You hated to admit it to yourself, but it actually felt kind of nice to be held.

You liked to think that people saw you as the “casual” couple where you still acted like the close friends you were before but with some PDA, but for some reason, tonight Mark was being especially clingy.

It had started when Jaebum introduced you to one of his friends who was also passionate about baking. Mark was off getting drinks for the both of you and catching up with some friends he hadn’t seen in a while. Ecstatic to meet someone who shared the same passions as you, you and Jaebum’s friend quickly went back and forth about everything from different recipes to try out to food trends you’ve noticed recently to dessert Instagram accounts you should follow.

“I don’t know if Jaebum has told you this, but I’m also thinking about opening a business myself and wanted to learn more. Do you think we could exchange numbers and maybe meet up—”

“She’s already busy as it is. Here love, screwdriver just the way you like it.”

Mark handed you your drink with a cool expression you couldn’t quite place before wrapping an arm around your waist. Recovering from the interruption, Jaebum’s friend held out his hand to Mark.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m—”

“Babe, they’re starting a new game of Cranium and want us to join. We better go before Jackson throws a fit.”

Before you could apologize and say goodbye to the guy left hanging in front of you, Mark was already pulling you in the direction of your friends, his grip on your hip growing slightly tighter. 

“Mark! He wanted to ask me about my shop!”

Mark gazed down at you and you couldn’t help but shiver slightly under his cold stare. You never thought his eyes could be so dark. 

“He can just ask Jaebum for your number. Let’s go play.”

Though Mark visibly relaxed as you joined your friends for games, you noticed he was a little touchier with you than usual. He would plant kisses to the back of your hand or your temple whenever you won a turn for your team. His hand was practically glued to your waist, absentmindedly stroking the fabric against it. The only time his hand did leave your waist was when you had to mold something with play-doh for a round and one of Jackson’s friends made a suggestive comment about your hands.

“Wow, Mark’s girl sure has a way with her hands.” 

As soon as your team had correctly guessed what you were creating and you took a seat back on the couch, you found Mark’s hand now resting on your thigh, slightly gripping the flesh. You turned to Mark but he only continued watching the game, paying no mind to your reaction to the sudden new form of contact. Despite the small smile placed on his lips as he watched Yugyeom and Bambam’s antics, you noticed his jaw subtly tighten. 

“Are you okay?” You asked him once the game was over, excusing yourself from the rest of the group to get another drink from the bar. “You’re acting kind of...strange.” You eyes drifted to his free hand now tucking away some hair behind your ears. 

“I’m just being the best fake boyfriend I can be and showing others you’re mine,” Mark shrugged, quickly brushing off your worry like his hand brushing through your hair, though his words caused a small stir in your stomach. “Are you going back to join the group?”

“Nah, that game got way too heated. I need to be away from people for a little bit.” 

“Mind if I join you?” Mark cleared his throat awkwardly before casually leaning against the bar. “You know—I’m just staying by your side at a big party like a good fake boyfriend would, of course.” 

“Mark, just say you’re tired of people too,” you joked, leaning next to him. He slung his arm around your shoulders as you took out your phone and began scrolling through social media. 

You said nothing about his actions, trying to ignore the whisper in the back of your head telling you how his arm felt like it was meant to be there. 

You also tried to ignore the tingles running down your spine as Mark leaned closer to your ear and spoke, busying yourself by engaging in idle conversation about some shoes you saw on Instagram. 

Ignorance became impossible as you suddenly felt Mark bringing you closer to him with the arm already around you, tilting your face towards his. 

And then without warning, he was kissing you.

It was probably from the bottomless screwdrivers you were consuming that night, but at that moment, you found Mark’s lips absolutely intoxicating. All sensible thoughts flew out of your head as he kissed you with a passion you’d never seen in him before, his lips tugging at yours softly yet with hunger. His free hand slid down to your waist to pull you closer, closing the gap left between your bodies. Feeling his tongue brush slightly against your bottom lip before dancing with yours, you knew your knees would have given out beneath you if he wasn’t holding you so tightly. With every peck against your lips, the same voice you had been ignoring in your head now whispered “please don’t stop.”

When he finally pulled away for air, his face still a mere few inches from yours, you let yourself believe for a second that Mark was gazing at you with all the adoration his eyes could muster, too real to fake. 

But then you remembered it was all fake and although prohibition of kisses on the lips weren’t explicitly stated in your rules, it was still something you both never considered doing. So you voiced your confusion to him, knowing very well that whatever prompted the kiss had to be serious. 

Mark smiled shyly, stumbling out a response while his eyes traveled elsewhere. You followed his gaze, instantly feeling your heart drop into your stomach when you realized it was serious.

There she was, glaring at you with the same disdain as when she used to pick Mark up from your place for dates. 

You glanced up at Mark and noticed him stare back blankly, seemingly frozen under her gaze just like you were. 

“Oh.”

Mark proceeded to apologize for the sudden attack but you just brushed it off. 

“That’s what fake girlfriends are for.” 

Really you were just trying to brush off the feeling of his kiss burned into your brain. 

It remained branded there when Mark drove you home that night. As he steered through the darkness, Mark chatted amiably with you about something funny that happened with one of his patients the other day, as if he hadn’t just given you one of the most mind-blowing kisses in the world an hour ago. If he noticed your lack of reciprocation in the conversation—your responses limited to “oh really?” or “damn, that’s crazy”—he didn’t say anything about it. 

As he pulled up in front of your building, he gave you the same bashful expression he held when he pulled away from your lips. 

“Sorry, again, for...you know—”

“It’s okay,” you shook your head, unknowingly holding a breath in an attempt at nonchalance. “I understand.”

It was just a kiss for show, nothing else.

Mark gave you a relieved smile. “Good night. Thank you again.” As you were about to open your door, Mark leaned towards you and pecked you on the cheek. 

Your hand froze on the handle. “W-what was that for?”

Mark looked at you in confusion before the absence of an audience dawned on him. “Sorry. Habit, I guess?” He gave an awkward chuckle.

You laughed nervously in response. “Well, good night Mark.” 

And by good night, you meant good bye.

——

It was a full week until you saw Mark again. 

You were getting ready to close up, bidding good night to your employees as you cleaned the espresso machine when the front door jingled open again.

“Sorry, we’re closi—”

“I did it!” Mark approached you at the counter with the biggest smile on his face. Whatever the cause, he may as well have won the lottery. “I finally confronted her!”

“Wait, what?” Quickly getting over the shock from seeing him, you paused your motions to give Mark your full attention. “What happened?”

He let out a contented laugh, not knowing where to start. “Well actually, she was the one who wanted to see me first. Jinyoung said that she was waiting for me to finish my shift, so I figured I’d settle this once and for all. So I go and see her when I’m done and she just has the sorriest look on her face, but we both know that anyone can see right through her, right? But I don’t say anything about it and I just let her say her piece, and she goes into this sob story about how when she saw us at the party—by the way, remind me to kill Bambam for inviting her, he really thought we were on ‘good terms,’ oh please—but yeah, when she saw us at the party, it totally ‘broke her’ and she admits that she made a mistake and if she could redo it all over again, she would have never cheated. And then she went on to saying how she hopes we could get back together again because she misses me and promises to be better to me and blah blah blah.” Mark finished with a mock gag. 

You blinked. “...And then what happened?”

He looked at you with a self-satisfied smirk. “In the end, I thanked her. I thanked her for ending things because I finally got to see her for who she really was—a lying witch who thought of no one else’s feelings but her own. Then I kindly told her to stay away from me and my friends unless she wanted things to turn ugly really fast.”

“Wow Mark...sounds like you really got over your fear of confrontation. Congrats...” You wanted to say more, but all you think about was how soft his lips looked today.

“Yeah, so I thought I’d come over today since I have some time and you’re closing up. What are you feeling for dinner? We’re celebrating.”

“What?” You realized he wasn’t asking if he could take you out but it was already assumed.

Mark nodded. “I owe you remember? I wouldn’t have been able to get her off my back if it weren’t for you. You also haven’t responded to any of my texts this week asking if you wanted to do dinner, so I for sure need to treat you tonight.”

“Right...”

“And we just need to catch up. I haven’t spoken to you in a week. What have I missed?”

You grimaced slightly to yourself. So he had noticed your silence.

“Mark,” you sighed, moving around the counter so you were standing next to him. Now was probably the right time to talk about this before the little courage you possessed completely slipped away from you. “You don’t need to treat me to dinner anymore.”

He looked at you with a perplexed expression. “What do you mean? But I owe—”

“You don’t owe me anything anymore,” you say with a sad smile. “You got what you wanted. You finally got her off your back and I’m pretty sure all of your admirers know not to even try anymore. It’s done.”

His lips quirked thoughtfully. “So you’re saying—”

“—that there’s no point in fake dating anymore.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Unable to read his expression amid the newfound uncomfortable silence, you moved to go back behind the counter, ready to mumble an excuse about how you were tired and could do dinner another time when you felt him tug you back by the arm.

“Then I guess now I can start taking you on real proper dates.”

You stared at his hold on your arm before averting your gaze to his face, scanning his expression for any sign of insincerity. His eyes held a certain fondness towards you, falsity nowhere in sight. 

“Wait, are you saying—”

Mark let out an amused chuckle at your confusion matching his earlier. “I guess you haven’t noticed yet, but then again, you were never one to pick up on what’s right in front of you, much less subtle hints.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know—”

“I’ll have you know that I have completely fallen for you and there’s no way I’m getting back up.”

As your eyes grew wider at the confession, so did Mark’s grin at your expression.

So cute.

“Are you serious?”

He nodded.

“B-but it was just for show and we’ve always just been friends—I didn’t think-I just thought—but you were so good at acting—was that why at the party...you were being weird—”

“Some guys were trying to hit on you and I had to let them know who you belonged to,” Mark answered easily with a smirk, clearly enjoying watching your mind short-circuit before him.

“But then that kiss—”

“—only made me realize that I wished I kissed you sooner.” 

You stared at Mark for a moment, completely at a loss for words and ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks. Mark might as well have been speaking to you in a foreign language—nothing coming out of his mouth was making sense.

“Mark, I swear if you’re joking around right now...if you’re joking, I’m gonna kill you.”

“I’m only joking if you don’t feel the same way about me,” Mark confessed, his smirk reverting back to the shy smile you knew all too well. “But I really hope you do because I’m crazy about you and being your fake boyfriend for over a month only confirmed how much I want to be it for real.”

Mark watched as you chewed on your lip, a habit of yours when you were really think hard about something.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

He gave a resigned nod, looking down at his feet. “I understa—”

“Over dinner. Tonight.” 

His head shot up immediately, smile growing wider by the second. “Really?”

You reached up to his face, playfully patting him on the cheek. “You owe me, remember?”

Mark nodded in excitement before shooting you a wink. 

“Whatever you say, babe.”

You inwardly groaned and rolled your eyes. “I told you I hated pet names, yet you still do it.”

Before you could walk away in mock disgust, Mark quickly pulled you back again, your face instantly landing on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your back.

“Because you let me.”

As you looked up and received a surprise kiss to your nose from Mark, you realized you would let him for the rest of your life.

——

[anotherkpopvictim]

Seven Is Our Lucky Number - OT7 Story Chapter 3

(Gif Source - my gif)

Chapter 3: When Hoseok met Seokjin

A/N: So hear me out...this is different than the 2Seok/JinHope drabble I did a few months ago because they’re playing with a cat instead of a dog, okay. It’s different, I swear it is...

Truthfully, I just have a thing for these two with animals so I’m sorry.

I wrote the first part on a rainy day while I listened to RM’s Mono album.

Also, I decided that I wanted to add dates for the flashbacks so I went back to the previous chapters and added them. You don’t really need to pay attention to them, but the way I’m writing the flashbacks in the upcoming chapters might be a bit confusing, so I wanted to make the timeline a bit more clear. Italics indicate a flashback and anything not in italics takes place present-day (spring-summer 2020).

Anyways, enjoy I guess?

Relationship: BTS X BTS (Hoseok X Seokjin focused)

Rating: G

Words: 2789

Fluff

Italics = flashback

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

May 2, 2011

Hoseok and Seokjin’s first meeting was completely different from the others in that they didn’t know that they would be working together for a long time in the future when it happened.

Whenever Hoseok got super stressed out, too stuck in his own head, he would take a few buses across the busy city of Seoul and go to his favorite cat cafe. He would order a hot chocolate and a slice of lemon cake and spend time with the cats for hours, petting and scratching them to his heart’s content.

He especially liked this one cat cafe because it was a home for stray cats who were extremely friendly. The best part about going there was seeing another customer fall in love with one of the cats and come back to adopt it. The people always looked so happy, and these cats who hadn’t had such a good start to life were getting a second chance.

So maybe that’s why Hoseok liked it at the cat cafe so much, maybe seeing the happiness and joy in others’ expressions made him happy too.

He seemed to crave that escape more often lately.

While Namjoon and Yoongi had been working with some producers at the company in preparation for their group, Hoseok was working with some choreographers.

Now, Hoseok was confident in his ability to dance. He knew that he was talented, he knew that he had the passion, but that didn’t mean that seeing these even more talented dancers didn’t make him feel a little pathetic.

The choreographers were all nice and really helped him further himself as a dancer, but it didn’t stop the thoughts running through his brain that were telling him he wasn’t good enough. That he wasn’t good enough to make a career out of it.

So, the dancer found himself sitting on a crowded bus, earbuds in as he watched the city pass by outside the window. Once he got off at his stop, Hoseok pulled his hood over his head to block the drizzling rain. He wasn’t so much worried about his hair as he was his headphones, which were well used and nearly falling apart and probably wouldn’t take too well to water.

He enjoyed the fresh scent of the rain as he walked down the sidewalks, passing by hundreds of people who didn’t spare him a second glance. It didn’t take him long to get where he was going, as his self-deprecating thoughts flooded his mind.

He quickly found himself at a booth in his favorite cat cafe, hot chocolate, and lemon cake on the table in front of him, along with a friendly tabby cat who hadn’t left Hoseok’s side since he walked through the door. He liked to think that the animal could sense how down he was feeling that day and wanted to give him some company to help him feel better.

He smiled tiredly at the cat and scratched its head softly. The animal let out a content purr and pushed its face up into Hoseok’s hand.

A large crowd of students - high school age it seemed like - came through the doors of the cafe, immediately disrupting the previous calm atmosphere provided by the few patrons.

Hoseok tried to focus on the cat and the comfort it was bringing him, and he was thankful when the students quieted down a bit a few minutes later.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lost in the cute cat before he looked up again to take a glance around the cafe. It was an unintentional habit of his, people watching. Especially here at the cafe.

He wasn’t expecting to catch sight of the best-looking young man he’d ever seen in his life. He was probably twenty or twenty-one and had dark eyebrows and plump lips that Hoseok startlingly thought about wanting to kiss for a moment. He was tall and handsome and although Hoseok usually found that those two words went along with egotistical and rude, this man’s demeanor was nonchalant if not a bit subdued - the complete opposite of the stuck up personalities he’d seen all too many times before.

The young man looked a little lost as he picked up his drink from the counter and turned around to find a seat. Unfortunately, every single seat, even the worst ones, were taken.

Hoseok locked eyes with the man and was speaking up before he could stop himself. “You can sit with me if you’d like,” he invited, grimacing internally immediately afterward. He hoped he didn’t sound too weird.

The man appeared surprised but nodded, giving him a gentle smile as he took a seat across from him in the booth. “Ah, thank you,” he said.

“No problem, I feel bad taking up such a big booth on my own now that it’s so busy,” Hoseok replied. “I’m Hoseok.”

“Seokjin,” the man - Seokjin - said. His dark brown eyes strayed to the cat perched on the table.

The cat happily accepted the pets from Seokjin when he reached over the table to run his hands through the orange fur on its back. Seokjin smiled and cooed, “You’re a cutie, aren’t you?”

Hoseok couldn’t help the grin the spread across his lips as he watched the two of them interact. With Seokjin’s entrance into his day, his insecurities were pushed to the far back of his mind. Seokjin’s kindness and ensnaring aura about him demanded Hoseok’s attention.

“So, Hoseok-ssi,” Seokjin began casually, glancing up from scratching the tabby cat’s head. “I couldn’t help but notice you looked a little down earlier.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened, “Oh, uh, you saw that?”

“Yeah,” Seokjin cheeks tinged pink, “That probably sounded strange but I saw you earlier while I was waiting in line. Did you come here to get some love from the cats?”

“Yep, I usually come here after a bad day.”

Seokjin hummed curiously, “Me too. Sometimes university gets to be too much.”

“Well, I’m just a dancer.” Hoseok replied, “A hard day for me is probably nothing compared to what you deal with.”

The other man immediately shook his head, “Don’t say that. Dancing is difficult. I certainly need some help in that area.”

Hoseok huffed out a chuckle before he fell somber once more. “Sometimes I don’t think I’m good enough,” he admitted. It felt good to say it out loud to someone else, even if that someone else was a total stranger.

Seokjin nodded understandingly, “And do you think that because other people have told you or because you’re telling yourself?”

Hoseok paused, digesting the other’s words. No one had ever told him he wasn’t a good dancer - in fact, he was often told the exact opposite. He’d won competitions before and had quite a few trophies back at his parents’ house to show for his efforts. His close friends and family constantly told him how he was given a special gift to be able to dance the way he does.

“I’m only telling myself,” he murmured under his breath in realization. Acceptance.

“Not that I think others should be the judge of your talent,” Seokjin continued, “But I think that we’re too often our own worst critics.”

“You’re right,” Hoseok replied, feeling like a weight was lifted off of his chest. “I’ve worked hard at dancing for five years now. I shouldn’t doubt myself so much.”

“Five years?” Seokjin whistled, impressed. “You’d definitely destroy me in a dance contest then. My best move is The Sprinkler.”

Hoseok burst out laughing, a loud noise that garnered the attention of quite a few booths around them. The dancer slapped his hand over his mouth and ducked his head shyly.

“Don’t do that,” Seokjin said, giving him a gentle kick to the leg. “You have an adorable laugh.”

Hoseok was blushing bright red now.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to respond by the tabby cat standing up on the table and moving towards Seokjin, accidentally knocking over his paper cup with its foot. Coffee spilled all over Seokjin’s shirt and pants, fortunately not hot enough to burn him.

Seokjin let out a little yelp of surprise before snickering, amused.

An employee who saw the incident hurried over from behind the counter with a towel and apologizes on her lips. “Aye, you clumsy cat! I’m so sorry, sir.”

Seokjin gave her a reassuring smile and waved his hand as he took the towel from her and started gently patting at his drenched clothing. “No worries. I’ve heard coffee is great for the skin!”

The girl sighed in relief and let out a little giggle. Then she poked the cat’s nose fondly, “Well, Qi, you’d better learn from this mistake or you won’t be allowed out here again.”

“Qi?” Hoseok inquired.

The girl nodded. “His name. He’s from a litter of eight stray kittens. They were simply given Mandarin numbers as names by the good citizen who found them and we thought it was cute so we kept the names.”

Hoseok wasn’t brushed up on his Mandarin, but he was pretty sure ‘Qi’ was either the number six or seven.

Qi meowed and swished his tail back and forth in the air. The animal looked quite satisfied with himself and Hoseok wondered if maybe he’d knocked over the cup on purpose.

After a few more minutes of conversing with the waitress - Hyojin, she told them - she excused herself to get back to work with a final apology for the mess to Seokjin.

Hoseok took a look at his phone and sighed resignedly at the time. “I should probably get going before it gets dark.” He looked up at the other. Hoseok really didn’t want to leave - he was enjoying his time with Seokjin and Qi. “It was nice to meet you, Seokjin-ssi. And, uh, thank you, for putting things into perspective for me.”

Seokjin smiled. “No worries. It was nice to meet you, too, Hoseok-ssi.”

Hoseok, a total and complete idiot, forgot to ask for Seokjin’s number. When he realized this, he was bummed as he liked the young man. With no way to contact him, he could only hope that they would meet again somehow.

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

“No way!”

“Jimin-”

“No!” Jimin shouted, an angry (cute) pout on his face. “How did we not know the first real time you guys met?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung whined, “That’s so sweet! How could you keep that from us!”

“It just never came up,” Hoseok replied sheepishly.

Jungkook patted both Jimin and Taehyung’s shoulders soothingly until they sat back down on the sofa.

All seven of them were gathered around their living room for a group meeting called by Hoseok. After looking back at his own first meetings with the members, he realized that there was another seven in their lives.

Now, Hoseok really didn’t believe in this whole thing the first time Namjoon mentioned it. But after speaking with Yoongi and having his own revelation that ‘Qi’ was indeed the number seven in Mandarin, he was starting to question it. Was it possible at all to have a lucky number? It seemed so silly, so childish to think so, and yet...it was slowly progressing beyond more than just a coincidence.

That was exactly why he called the meeting with all six of his boyfriends.

“It was a couple of months after that we met at the dorms for the first time, and neither of us were super close to you guys then so there wasn’t really a reason to say it,” Seokjin explained in an attempt to placate his (cutely) angry boyfriends. “I haven’t even thought about that day for years. I didn’t remember that the cat’s name was Qi.”

“This is starting to get really weird,” Jungkook remarked. Jimin was sitting in his lap now, and the maknae had his hands running through Jimin’s dark locks.

“It is,” Namjoon agreed, “It’s probably nothing, though...right? Maybe this whole quarantine thing is just driving us crazy.”

Yoongi snorted, “We’ve always been crazy.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and cuddled further into Hoseok’s side, “Fine, maybe it’s driving us crazier than we normally are.”

Seokjin and Yoongi hummed in agreement from their spot on the love seat. With Jimin and Jungkook stuck together on the other couch, it left Taehyung on his own.

The second youngest was on the other end of the couch from Jimin and Jungkook, and he was clutching a blanket closely to him as he stared off into space.

Jimin frowned and nudged him when he noticed this. “Hey, are you alright, Tae?”

All eyes were on Taehyung as he blinked and took in the situation. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” he replied quickly. He smiled tiredly, “Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

None of them bought his excuse but they let it go anyway. They knew better than to pressure Taehyung into talking about what was going on in his head. They just had to wait until Taehyung was ready to tell them.

“I wonder where Qi is now?” Hoseok wondered out loud, a smooth transition to a different subject. “I liked him.”

Seokjin hummed in agreement. “Me too. Except, he interrupted my attempts at flirting with you.”

Hoseok looked at him with wide eyes, “Wait, you were flirting with me?”

“Of course,” the eldest replied smugly, “How could I not when you’re such a cutie and sweet enough to offer me a seat.”

Hoseok was blushing as red as a tomato. He felt just like he did that day he first met the older man. He leaned over and smacked Seokjin’s arm lightly with a pout, “Don’t tease me!”

“But you’re so easy to tease!”

Seokjin and Hoseok ended up in some kind of hand slapping fight while the others watched on in amusement. Just another typical day in the Bangtan household.

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

July 21, 2011

“Two new members?” Yoongi inquired.

Namjoon nodded, “PD-nim didn’t tell me much but one of them is moving into the dorms today. The other will be here next week.”

While Yoongi and Namjoon begrudgingly went about making the dorm presentable for their new housemate, Hoseok was much more enthusiastic about it. He’d always been a fairly neat person and got a feeling of pride and calm when things were orderly.

So, Hoseok unsurprisingly went the extra mile. Namjoon and Yoongi were all but passed out on the couch and groaning like children after tidying while Hoseok went through the small dorm three times over, each time finding something out of place that he could fix.

Just as he was fluffing up the pillows on the beat-up couch, there was a knock at the door, immediately gathering the attention of the three boys.

“That must be him,” Namjoon commented, rising from the sofa to answer the door.

“At least he knocked first,” Yoongi mumbled, “Unlike some people.” He looked pointedly at Hoseok. Obviously, he was referring to the fact that the first time they met, Hoseok had kind of just barged into the dorm.

The dancer pouted and put his hands on his hips, “Hey! They gave me keys because they weren’t sure if you were going to be there! That’s not my fault!”

Yoongi chuckled fondly and ruffled Hoseok’s hair. “I know.”

Namjoon returned to the living room with someone following him.

It took a moment for Hoseok to recognize the young man. He locked eyes with the newest edition and both their eyes widened a little bit.

“Guys, this is Kim Seokjin-ssi.” Namjoon announced, “He’s the oldest of us, so show some respect please.”

Kim Seokjin. Seokjin, the young man Hoseok had talked with at the cafe what felt like so long ago. He really never thought he’d ever see him again and now here he was, in front of him once more. What were the chances?

Hoseok moved closer and gave a quick bow in greeting. He wasn’t sure how he should act around the other in this situation, so he kind of just went with the flow. “Uh, hello, I’m Hoseok?” It came out like a question.

Seokjin gave him a secretive little smile. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok-ah.”

Yoongi sat up on the couch and gave Seokjin a head nod, “Nice to meet you, Seokjin-ssi. I hope we can work well together.”

Seokjin smiled, the expression filled with a natural tenderness. It was the same tenderness Hoseok had witnessed on the young man at the cafe with Qi. “Call me hyung. I have a feeling we’re going to be together for a long time.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A/N: So I hope that all the flashbacks aren’t making things too confusing. Let me know if it is, please.

Otherwise, I always appreciate likes and comments as they keep me motivated. I’m open to any constructive criticism as well.

I hope you guys are staying safe and healthy <3

[szivtalan]

A, I, J, L, M, P, R, S, T, V, X, Y for the Honesty Hour ask!!! :D

A - If I’m in love

I suuuuck at reading my own emotions,  especially when it comes to feelings of romantic attraction. But yeah I  guess there’s someone I could imagine a future with.

I - The last time I felt jealous and why

I’m  not terribly jealous tbf. But I did feel some weird stuff when the   person mentioned above said something about their current partner. It   did...not sit well with me, which is why I think I might have some   feelings for them after all.

J - Are you insecure. What about?

I’m  insecure about how I present, my looks, the way I come off on the   internet, my writing, basically every aspect of my life, I’ve been   insecure about at one point. I’m learning to gradually get over them.

L - If I have siblings.

I  have a brother (4 yrs older) and a stepbrother that I haven’t seen in years. He was already a married man with a family when I was around 13.

M - If I forgive betrayal.

I’m  a “forgive but don’t forget” kind of person. At one point I found that  it’s petty to hold a grudge when someone genuinely wants to make up, but  there’s a good chance that I won’t let them as close and will always be  distrustful to them in the future.

P - What kind of music I like.

My  musical taste is all over the place tho. I usually describe it as   “something that moves me” since I’m into catchy rhythms/beats and   soulful lyrics but it can be just as much of Billy Raffoul than say,   Watsky or The Bloodhound Gang.

R - For me to tell 10 of my curiosities.

I had no idea what this actually meant but my last interpretation is something akin to a few fun facts so here’s ten fun facts about me (I tried to pick things I haven’t yet told you haha):

I’m a child of divorce.

I’ve been exposed to/learning English since I was 6 years old.

I used to be more interested in drawing than writing.

I think of myself as someone who’s relatively unfit, but for an unfit person I did quite a lot of sports growing up. I did martial arts (aikido briefly, and taekwon-do for a year or so), volleyball and handball, each for a year; gymnastics as a kid, soccer as a hobby, basketball, folk dance and running.

I’m not at all a picky eater, but I don’t eat fruits or most veggies. This broke some people’s brain who wanted to eat out with me.

My humor is surprisingly grim and/or filthy.

Up until the age of like sixteen I always had one or two dogs around the house. The last two were both rottweilers.

I’m the rudest polite person I know. Like I have a temper and I swear all the time at people, but I will say “please”, “thank you” and “good morning” and I even get overly apologetic while inconveniencing people (kinda like Sakurai from Touou, I’m not joking when I say I see myself in his behavior).

The furthest I ever got from Hungary is some of the few bordering countries (Slovakia, Croatia, Romania and Austria).

I pretty much discovered I was bisexual at age 10-12 and then went “oh well, it’s a problem for future me to deal with!” and practically forgot about it until I was old enough to really start liking people.

S - 2 habits.

1) I pick at my hangnails and my skin a lot

2) I observe people when they think no one is looking and smile at their endeavors.

T - 5 things I love unconditionally.

My friend, Dee

Music

Being around natural bodies of water, apparently

Dogs (and cats, altho I keep my distance whenever its needed)

Bear with me for a moment: I love love. I think people are destined for it, and I don't just mean romantic love. You need love to survive and to have a purpose. I love loving my friends, as much as I love portrayals and expressions of romantic love. I love the seconds that I get to love a stranger bc they do something endearing that I can't help momentarily falling for and I also love the kind of love that's more like a habit, like loving your parents or best friends and not even really noticing it, because it just comes so naturally.

V - 3 big dreams

I did this already but if we’re talking “I don’t think this will happen anyway” kinda big dreams, I’d like to perform as a singer, I want to be able to get into acting again, and I’d like move out of my country. Which is probably the most plausible one.

X - If I’ve done something I regret very much.

I do regret a few things in my life, but ultimately I feel like I wouldn't be where I am now without making the mistakes I've made, so let's just say that I should've applied for psychology much, much earlier.

Y - If I like my town and why.

It sucks less and less every year tbh. It's very pretty with some amazing views at high vantage points, and people are relatively nicer than they used to be, but I still remember the drunkards who used to stumble on the sidewalk right outside my window and I just can't really seem to fully assimilate into the community. I guess it's been changing for the better in the 16 years I've been living here, but I rather go anywhere else if I can.

[ace-jug]

Richie and The Rabbit Hole (2)

Part 1

Summary: When everyone goes back to their lives after Pennywise, Richie doesn't. He stays in Derry and finds a portal that leads back to 1989, only a few months after the loser club "defeated" Pennywise the first time.Using the help of the younger losers, adult Richie goes back in time to fix all the wrong that Pennywise caused when he came back the second time.

Relationship: Richie/Eddie

Rating: M

Read on Archive: x

Chapter 2: The plan

All the losers are currently sitting inside the little club house that Ben built. They all have on their signature shower caps besides Richie and Eddie, who were obviously too "cool" to wear them. Beverly and Richie had called all the losers, waiting outside the club house, as future Richie paced inside, and once all the losers filed in, they looked at future Richie confusingly.

All the young losers awkwardly looked at future Richie as Beverly explained what the situation was and no this guy was not and I quote "Richie's long last dad, who Richie never knew till now, because his mom's a hoe."

“So, let me get this straight,” Ben starts, “this is Richie from the future and he wants us to fight Pennywise again, because if we don’t fight him now, he’ll come back in 27 years and kill some of us?"

“Precisely,” Beverly says and Ben nods a few times before falling onto his back with a sigh. He didn’t want to fight Pennywise again. It was bad enough that they almost died on numerous occasions, either that be going down to the sewer or almost kissing the monster itself. Ben almost pukes at the thought, remembering Pennywise as Beverly again. He wants to cry and he lets himself stay strong in order to not be embarrassed in front of crush.

Ben isn't the only one dreading the fight either, none of the losers wanted to, and it makes them all remember all their previous encounters with Pennywise again. They all hoped that it was defeated the last time and all the losers actually had just started living without constant fear that the clown was going to kill them and now, the future had already got new plans for them, literally.

“If our older selves can’t fight IT without dying, how are we supposed to?” Stanley pipes up, fear in his eyes as he starts crying, and the rest of the losers sit in silence. Beverly pats him on the back to try and reassure him, but it still doesn’t change anything.

Richie can tell they're all afraid, hell he was scared shitless when he went back to Derry a few days ago and even though he feels braver, it doesn't stop the fear from poking in. He knows he has to be strong though, for the kids, and he feels really bad, he really does, and seeing these kids cry makes him incredibly uncomfortable.

He feels sorry for them, he really does, because he knows how hard it is to be a kid, and how difficult Pennywise was in general. He just hopes this works out and doesn’t blow up in his face.

“We won,” Richie starts, “just not all of us made it and I understand the mistakes that were made. I know how to kill IT and for real this time.”

The room goes silent and Richie tries his best to think of the words to use. It honestly didn’t make much sense, how they defeated Pennywise. When he thinks about it, it seems really weird how they killed IT, but he needed to try.

“Pennywise is weak. Especially now. He ran away from you guys for a reason. He was close, but we have to go deeper, kill him where he disappeared into. After we get there, we have to remind him how small he is. We have to yell at him, be stronger than he is, tell him he’s a clown, make him feel small, so he becomes small, so that way we can grab his beating heart out of his chest and smash it.”

Richie stops there and looks intently at the other losers. None of them say anything for a moment, then younger Richie bursts into laughter.

“Yeah, okay, because calling a demonic clown a clown, the thing he purposely disguises himself as, is going to kill it. That’s genius homeless guy! Just genius!”

“Hey, I am not homeless! Far from it, I have a penthouse in California!” older Richie pipes up, because god dammit, he was not homeless! He was just gross from the sewers and overly tired.  

Young Richie smiles at him, excitement bubbling in his small body. “You do? Oh my god, did you hear that guys, I’m gonna be rich! You guys better be nice to me!”

“Beep beep Richie,” Mike says to young Richie, looking at older Richie again.

“You are being serious, right?” Mike asks and he looks scared. He doesn’t know what to believe and honestly future Richie wasn’t really sure if this was going to work, but the only way it would, would be if he could make the other losers confident.

“As serious as I’ll ever be and I never am.”

“We know,” everyone says practically in unison and younger Richie sticks his tongue at them. Some of them roll their eyes, but not Eddie, he stares at older Richie in wonder.

“What do I look like when I’m older?” Eddie asks and Richie smiles at him. He remembers Eddie again and he’s not going to lie, Eddie aged pretty well. Maybe not as well as Ben, but Eddie was undeniably attractive, and when Richie saw Eddie again for the first time, all the feelings came up like they never went away, even before he remembered everything.

“Very handsome,” Richie says, smiling at the thought, biting his lip, and Eddie fists his hand in the air with victory.

“What about me?” Ben asks and Richie wants to say, he really does, because Ben gets HOT, but then he realizes that maybe meddling with the past so much isn’t such a good idea. He’s doing enough already and he can’t have these kids expecting that their lives are going to turn out exactly as Richie says, especially when he’s lifting the curse of Pennywise.

“Okay, that’s enough with the future. I know you all want to hear about it and I really want to talk about it, but just because I tell you something is going to happen, doesn’t mean it will and I really don’t want to freak you out or make you believe your going to get something great that never comes.”

"Also-," future Richie continues, staring and pointing at past Richie. "Don't expect to make bank when your older now. You don't get anywhere without working your ass off."

Younger Richie rolls his eyes. "I know, I know," he says and then Eddie furrows his brows for a second, before looking at younger Richie.

“Wait, wait, so Richie’s mom isn’t a hoe?” Eddie asks, even though the conversation about this guy being Richie's mom was long forgotten. It even takes younger Richie a second to pick it up, but as soon as he does, he goes straight into bantering with the shorter teen.

“Oh, shut up, you know it’s the other way around. I mean, your mom is easy. I’ve already been to Mrs.K’s house today and-”

“Can you guys just shut up?” Beverly pipes up and Richie only smirks at her. “Hey, I didn’t start it, Eddie did. It’s not my fault that Eddie is jealous that me and his mom are-” Richie stops, looking at Eddie, trying to act concerned as he looks at him.

"What?" Eddie asks, confused and slightly blushing from the way that Richie was looking at him. Why did Richie stop talking in the middle of his sentence? It wasn’t like him to stop talking when no one interrupted him, but even then, he usually continues.

"You have a spider in your hair," Richie says with a smirk on his face.  

Eddie's eyes go wide in horror and he tries his best not to freak out over it. Richie was lying, obviously, he could tell by the look on his face, but that didn't stop Eddie from thinking of the 1% chance that Richie was telling the truth.

"You're lying!" Eddie yells and Richie shakes his head. "I'm not. See its right-" he cuts himself off, as he pointed to Eddie's head before tickling him.

"It's here, it's there. Oh my god Eds."

Everyone stares at them, Stan is groaning and rolling his eyes.

"Seriously guys, right now?" Beverly asks rolling her eyes and waving her hands in the air frustratingly, but young Richie doesn't stop, he keeps going, and Eddie doesn't stop laughing. He curses at Richie a little too and older Richie stares, confused, and a little concerned. Was he really that obvious and annoying when he was younger? I mean, it was kinda ridiculous. They were having a serious conversation and he just decided it was the best time to tickle his crush.

When it goes on a little too long, Beverly looks at adult Richie, giving him the eyes of 'are you gonna do something about this?'

Right , Richie was the adult, which technically meant he was in charge. Even though the only child he's ever babysat in the past 10 years was his niece and he suspected he was pretty bad at that too considering he usually buys her pizza, ice cream, and candy, then let's her stay up till 1am. Yeah, he shouldn't have kids, not without someone who's willing to raise two kids at once at least.

"Richie Thomas Tozier I swear to god if you don't stop, I'll tell Eddie you slept with his mom," older Richie says, which leaves both boys in fear, and he’s honestly surprised that it breaks them apart.

He also noticed how painfully obvious he was about his crush on Eddie and it made him cringe a little bit. Like, really? Tickling him in front of everyone? He’s 13, not 4.

"You slept with my mom!? I thought that was just a joke," Eddie asked younger Richie and older Richie shrugged.

"Yeah, we also got married. Technically your my son little Eddie Spaghetti," older Richie said, stirring the pot even more, because if one thing didn’t change over the years, it was the fact that Richie was still a trashmouth shit starter.

“What!? Your fucking with me! This isn’t funny! My mom would never-” Eddie starts screaming hesticarly and older Richie laughs.

“Yes, okay, fine, I’m joking with you,” he says quickly before Eddie really goes insane. He knows how Eddie can be and he’s not about to get him royally pissed off when they’re here on a mission.

Younger Richie pushes Eddie, “Yeah Eddie, why would I want to sleep with your mom, when I’m rich living in California sleeping with a bunch of models? I have standards.”

Older Richie chuckles at that. “Yeah, no, you definitely do not have standards,” Richie says, remembering all the horrible ex girlfriends and one night stands over his life. One time he dated a girl that quite literally had a breakdown in his penthouse, breaking the window, and he still dated her until she cheated on him.

“He never denied the hot babes,” Richie said, looking back at Eddie. “Ya jealous there Eds?”

“No, definitely not. I have standards and you don’t,” Eddie said and older Richie couldn’t help but burst into laughter yet again, shaking his head, because between the two of them, Richie might actually win on having better standards. I mean come on, Eddie basically married his mother. An overbearing, overprotective, debatable abusive lady and honestly it wasn't funny, it really wasn't, but seeing young Eddie pipe up with rage was way too funny to not continue laughing.

“What, WHAT?” Eddie yelled at him and older Richie kept cackling for a few seconds. “Nothing, nothing, we need to get back to what we were talking about. No more funny business.”

“But I didn’t start anything! Tell me why you were laughing!” Eddie yelled again and older Richie shook his head again. “Don’t worry about it kiddo. It’s noth-” he makes another giggling noise before finishing, “nothing. I promise.”

Eddie went to speak again, but Beverly looked at him sternly, as to let it go, and Eddie sighed, he didn’t want to let it go. Richie knew something he didn’t and it made him uncomfortable. Did he end up dating or marrying someone awful? Did he end up alone? Both thoughts were scary and the fact that Richie knew what he was like, who he was with or not with, bubbled him with curiosity, he’d definitely have to talk to him later.

“H-h-how many-y of us di-ee?” Bill pipes up, trying to get away from the whole bickering moment and Richie shakes his head no, because he can’t. They’ll freak out, he knows they will.

“It’s not important,” Richie says and Bill shakes his head.

“I need-d-d to know Rich-i-i-e-e.”

“Don’t worry Bill. Just know that I know we can win. None of us died after we knew what to do.” Which was true, no one did die after that, but even so, Eddie still died in the process, at the spur of the moment. Richie couldn’t guarantee that even if he knew how to kill Pennywise, that it would actually work. He’s not sure if only Eddie dying was supposed to be bad luck or good luck. They all could die, and then what? He would have killed all the losers, because Richie was selfish and thought he was stronger than what he actually was.

Richie didn’t want to think of that possibility and he wouldn’t, because he wouldn’t let that happen. Pennywise was weak now and it was the perfect moment to strike, it had to be. This was fate giving him a second chance and he wouldn't waste it.

Bill nodded, because he understood that any loss was something. Even if it was just one, it was a big enough reason to fight. Pennywise even taking one more kid, even if they were random, was enough rage fuel for Bill to want to fight.

“Why here-e-e. Wh-y-y now? What-t-t about George Georg-ie?” Bill asks and Richie shrugs.

“I’m not sure, all I know is I was taken here at this time. I had no control over it and I’m just dealing with what I got.”

Bill nods, looking down, because he really wants to save Georgie. If this is all real and this guy is Richie from the future. If time travel exists, he wants to save Georgie too.

Richie knows Bill well enough to know what he’s thinking about and he doesn’t want to break Bill’s heart. He really doesn’t, because it’s not fair that he can come back to save Stanely and Eddie, but not Georgie. Georgie never even got to grow up and Bill loves Georgie, blames himself partially for Georgie's death.  Bill has suffered and all Richie can do is put his hand on Bill’s back for a second, giving it a pat and telling him “I’m sorry Bill, I really am, but I’m not even supposed to be here right now and I don't even know how much time I have. I honestly stumbled in the past without understanding what was going on or how it happened.”

Bill nods, tears well in his eyes and fuck , Richie felt bad, he really did, but he was right. He wasn’t supposed to be here and he didn’t even know how time traveling worked or even if killing IT with the younger losers back before Georgie got killed would even do anything.

“We need to go, tonight,” Richie says, “I’m not sure if time traveling has a time limit or not and I’m not about to find out.”

The rest of the losers nodded, sadness in their eyes as they stared out into open space, because IT wasn’t dead and IT had killed some of them. Pennywise had killed some of them when they were adults; older, stronger, wiser, and it made them all the more scared, because Richie didn’t need to tell them that Pennywise was more than what he was when they hurt him mere months ago, even if he was weak. Killing Pennywise for good was going to be a task and one wrong move could not only kill them all, but change the future forever.

What if this was Pennywise? Older Richie thought. Going through the portal. Like, what if because Pennywise is dead in my timeline, that when he died, he implanted something in my brain when I was in the deadlights to time travel and give himself a second chance?

Okay, maybe he was over analyzing the situation, but the paranoia was real. Pennywise could have.

But thoughts like that wouldn’t get him anywhere. He just really needs something to eat and sleep, but the sleep part was a little harder to take care of with the questionable time he had. God, this has been the weirdest week of his life.

“I have tasks for you all and I want you to meet me back here in an hour, okay?”

The losers nodded and Richie stood up, pointing at the losers one by one.

“Mike, I need you to get that weird gun thing. Bill I need you to grab some matches and a torch. Beverly and Ben, I need you to get some spears, maybe steal some from that fence at the creepy house. Eddie, I need you to get a first aid kit. Richie, I need you to grab the hunting gun from your dad’s gun case.”

“YOU WANT ME TO WHAT!?” Younger Richie yells and older Richie pats him on the shoulder

“It’ll be fine, dad should be at work right now, so it’s not like he’ll notice.”

“But I need the key and how am I supposed to hide it? It’s fucking huge and if a cop stops me, I don’t know what I’ll tell them!” He whines and older Richie shrugs.

“Figure it out and stop being a pussy. Are you really more afraid of your dad then a killer clown, who I've told you have killed your friends?”

Younger Richie sighed, “Okay, fine, you win! Stop making me look like a jackass!”

“You do that to yourself,” Stan says and young Richie glares at him.

“Well, at least I came back for you guys in the future! Remember that when you’re 40 and not fucking dead!” Young Richie yells and right, future Richie had one more loser to conduct and he knew exactly what he needed.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he says pointing at Stan. “Could you get me something to eat? I’m starving and I haven’t eaten all day and-”

“Yeah, okay, I got it,” Stan says in a huff, before walking out the clubhouse. Once he does, so does everybody else, and young Richie doesn’t stop complaining.

It makes older Richie realize how much of a little shit he was. He’s not gonna lie, he kinda loves and hates the younger version of himself, which he guesses is good, considering most people are at their lowest in middle school, and Richie hasn’t strangled himself yet.

Older Richie sighes, waiting for the younger losers to come back, and he thinks again, or as much as he can with a painfully empty stomach.

What was he supposed to do? Take the young losers down to the sewers with these make-do weapons and wing it?

Yeah, he was probably going to do that. He didn’t know of any other plan. He just had to be ready for anything. It is Pennywise after all and they had a plan last time, which didn’t work. Plus, they sorta had a plan. They had to be “mean” to Pennywise in order to kill IT and they knew they had to take out it’s heart, pull it part. They had a plan. The same plan that they found out on a whim after Eddie got stabbed.

They could do this. They had to. Richie won’t be able to live with himself otherwise.

....

First to come back is Stan. He’s got a hot dog in hand and a glass of water in the other. It’s not much, but honestly Richie was too hungry to care. He scarfed it down almost immediately after it’s handed to him. Stan doesn’t say anything, he just steps back and sits.

They stay silent for awhile, but since Richie was starving and thirsty, he finishes what he has quickly. It leaves the two alone in silence and Richie has kind of always been bad with silence.

“So, like...”Richie starts, but he doesn’t know what to say. How do you talk to teens again? He feels creepy if he’s being honest, but hey, technically Stan was the same age as him. Technically. It reminds him that he’s never actually got to talk to the older version of Stan. Never got to see the face of the man who he once called his best friend. Boy is that weird.

Stan was his best friend and not only had he forgotten about him, but he died. He never even had the chance to help Stan out of killing himself. He remembers how much of a pussy he thought Stan was for not showing up, until he found out that Stanley literally killed himself, because of his fear. He gulped at the thought and it seems that younger Stan seems to notice.

“I die, don’t I?” Stan asks when Richie can’t seem to find words and he still doesn’t know what to say, because he wants to keep it all a secret. He doesn’t want to scare Stanley more than he already is. He pauses, waits a few seconds, before trying to cover up the fact that Stan was right.

“Of course you don’t Stanely, what gave you that-”

“It’s obvious, alright? I’m the weakest link. I’m so scared Richie. I don’t want to do this. Please just let me die at 40. If I died at 40, I mean that’s a long fulfilling life isn’t it?”

Richie shakes his head and he wants so bad to take the pain away. He can’t stand that Stan would feel this way.

“No, Stan, listen, you’re braver than you think, alright? And I know you don’t believe me, but you are and more than one of us die. Who it is doesn’t matter. All that you need to know is that if we stick together and be brave, we can defeat IT. I know we can, but I need everyone on board.”

Stan shakes his head. “I can’t Richie, I can’t,” he’s crying again and Richie sighes, he can save Stanley, he knows he can.

“You can. You can. You’re just afraid, but believe me, they all are. Some of them are just better at hiding it. I promise you that 13 year old me is probably sitting in his room sobbing and sucking his thumb right now.”

Stan’s still crying, but it seems to get better, because he’s not really making any noises anymore and he furrows his brows.

“Wait, do you actually suck your thumb?”

Older Richie shrugs, “not anymore, but yeah, when I'm really nervous. It’s more of biting on the tip of my finger, okay? Don’t think too hard about it.”

Stan chuckles a little and he starts to feel better. Not a lot better, but a little. Everyone seems so confident and brave, while Stanely feels like he’s about to die from the nerves before they even take a step back into the sewers.

Older Richie looks back at him, smiling, because Stanely had always had low self esteem. Always thought little of himself, but he was so much more than that and Richie is just glad that in this moment, that they were here together, and they were alright.

Silence brews for a few minutes, before Beverly and Ben burst through the door with fence post spears from the house on Neibolt street. They have two each and Beverly hands one to adult Richie. He grips it firmly in hands, trying not to get another PTSD attack. He takes a deep breath, watching as Ben gives a spear to Stan too. He hesitates, but he takes one too.

Almost as suddenly as Stan takes the spear, Eddie comes in, then a few minutes pass before Mike comes, then Bill, and lastly young Richie, who grumbles in annoyance, as he hands adult Richie the gun, grabbing for the spear.

They all look at each other for a moment. None of them speak, not even one of the Richies. Ben only hands his other spear to Bill and with fire in his eyes, Bill says “what are we waiting for?” without a hesitation or stutter in his voice.

Older Richie smiles. “Let’s kill this fucking clown,” he says and the other losers smile, getting up and out of the clubhouse.

...

As they walked to the house, young Richie and Eddie bickered behind the group, as adult Richie lead, trying to keep his cool, as he led the losers to their possible deaths.

He wants to puke and he feels it come up a little bit, but he chokes it down. He was an adult and if he faltered, showed that he was scared, the rest of the group would get scared too.

They needed to be brave to win, mainly adult Richie needed to be brave for the rest of them if he wanted them all to live. If he wanted an even slight chance of seeing adult Eddie again and adult Stanley for the first time.

Richie took a deep breath as they approached the house and he didn't even look back, when he walked past the fence, up the stairs, and to the door. He opened it without hesitation, because for once in Richie's life, he felt brave.

Everything of the past week has led to this moment and he had played a thousand scenarios in his head of how the death of Pennywise could have went. Ones where Eddie would have lived and recently, of the younger losers helping him.

He could do this, he could, they were going to win, and Richie would do anything to make sure that it happened.

Eddie's adult form takes place in his mind again and usually he'd get sad not soon after the thought popped up, but now, he felt happy and determined instead.

When they walked inside the house, nothing out of the ordinary popped up. They walked through the house, surprisingly unharmed or bothered. They made their way to the well and the sewers. The spot they fought Pennywise last time looked exactly the same and for a second, the losers thought that maybe, just maybe, that the clown wasn’t here.

“Are we sure that the clown is here?” Mike asked future Richie and that had never even occurred to him, but he had to be right? He was just sleeping or at least that’s what Pennywise made it seem like he did.

“He’s here,” older Richie said, “he’s probably just caught off guard or is possibly waiting for a sneak attack.”

Which was probably true. Honestly, future Richie wasn’t 100% sure that Pennywise was here, but he didn’t know where else he would be. He was taking a chance, but he couldn’t let the younger losers know that.

So, he looked down into the hole and he knew where he was about to go. He was about to dive deeper into the rabbit hole. He feels like he did that once today, but this one is different. The pantry was the rabbit hole that led to a different time, in this rabbit hole, he was about to dive deep into a different world, hell.

Pennywise was bound to show the losers all their greatest fears, but Richie wasn’t afraid anymore. Richie wasn’t even afraid to die. He’s seen his biggest fears come to life and nothing is worse than losing the people that matter most to you.

That’s happened twice in his life, from this clown, and honestly, he didn’t have much to lose, and he knew that Pennywise could be defeated.

Underneath it all, he was just a clown anyways.

A stupid clown.

With that thought on the tip of his mind, he started climbing down, falling down, falling down, the rabbit hole again.