#because it was the first wireless controller I’d ever seen

[moghedien]

Nintendo didn’t announce a remaster fast enough 🙄

[kisskissbanggang]

The Sabotage of Simkung House pt. 5 — The Finale

[Stray Kids Multi Fic - 40Min Read/11.2K Words - Bang Chan x Female Reader - Non-Idol!au, Variety!au - NSFW/Smut, Plot - Reverse Harems, Variety Shows, Unfolding Plot, Suspicion, Scheming, Hostages, Overstimulation, Playing Pretend, Camboys, Secret Hook-Ups]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist | Feedback

>>I’m watching the raw feed did I just see you leave?

>>If you don’t want to get us in a mountain of trouble you need to get back to set NOW. 

You sighed at Felix’s berating on the screen in your hand, shifting uncomfortably in your heels where you stood in the cool night on the sidewalk. The house was only a block behind you. Looming. You took stock of what you had on you. You had the clothes on your back, your phone, and your apron balled up in your first, with your panties still shoved in the pocket. As if you hadn’t been thinking on your feet most of this time already, you needed to come up with something fast. You kept walking. 

>I had to leave. You saw what happened back there. 

>>NOW. 

>I walked off in such a frenzy that I’m lost like a complete idiot. Please come get me. I don’t want to get in trouble. 

You weren’t lost. You remembered a cute cafe that might be open late a few blocks away. If you hurried you could get there with enough time to look like you were waiting. 

>Please Felix? I need you. 

You paused on the sidewalk now. If Felix didn’t get back to you, you would need a new plan. 

>>Okay. Tell me where you are and stay put.

Somehow, Felix took longer than expected to come get you, but the reason became apparent as a company car rolled up. For some reason you had been expecting him to come by himself instead of in a company car with a driver. Felix didn’t roll the window down, instead beckoning you inside with a curt wave of his hand. You looked grateful as you sat beside him and let out a giant sigh as the car lurched forward. The time on your phone let you know you’d only been out of the house for an hour. Felix was dressed casually, still in a buttoned shirt with jeans. You could imagine him back at his place, languidly watching the raw feed after an already long day of work. 

“Thank you, really,” you gushed, “I was freaking out.”

“Me, too,” Felix exhaustedly laughed. He reclined limply against the back of the seat. “What happened, exactly?”

“It was stupid,” you sighed, and you weren’t exaggerating now. “Hyunjin and Jisung got into a fight. Over me. It was so childish.”

“Well, then, congratulations.” 

“Congratulations? Is that sarcastic?”

“Nope,” Felix shook his head, “you may have lost 60 million each since they found out about each other, but you remember that secret prize level I told you about?”

You gawked at Felix, leaning up against your seatbelt. “That’s cruel.”

“That’s true,” Felix grimaced. “You got 70 million won each because they fought over it. It’s cruel, and it’s true, and you signed up for it without asking more questions.”

You sank back against the seat, miserable. “I wonder why Jeongin didn’t intervene.”

Felix shrugged. “He was probably being careful.”

“Is that part of why the boys don’t know who Jeongin is?”

His shrug renewed. “He really is only there for you and the equipment. The boys are taken care of.”

You had to think quickly if you wanted more answers, better answers, answers that could help stoke this fire that was burning up under you. The questions that had been stacking up had to tip over at some point and you were resolved to find out what you could, however you could. As for right now, the most pressing issue was how the hell anyone in this supposedly on-the-level production let you sleep with Jisung under the impression that he wasn’t a virgin. You felt taken advantage of, but Jisung was flat out exploited. No first-time performer knows what they’re getting into as is, and Jisung knew even less. You wanted answers, and you were going to get them. You sympathetically put a hand on Felix’s. 

“How about you? Are you taken care of? I appreciate you coming to get me.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Felix shook his head as he eyed your hand. “I would do anything for you.”

The car pulled up to the front of the house. You checked the time on your phone and took a solid, confident breath before you pulled on a sweet smile. “Do you want to come inside? The boys are all going to be asleep by now. I still have my mic pack and I don’t want to go to the attic by myself in the dark.”

“Er,” Felix bit at his lip, considering you as you opened the car door and waited, “no problem.” He took your offered hand and let you lead him up the steps to the front door. 

As quiet and dark as the house was, you still didn’t expect to find the attic completely silent as you opened the door. In all the excitement, Jeongin must have taken the opportunity to leave and try to find you. You closed the attic door before taking Felix by the hand and leading him to a small couch in the corner that the assistants and writers normally lounged on during downtime. Felix watched you carefully, even as he let you seat him on the couch. His breath cutely caught in his throat as you sat beside him, leaning into his space and letting him get the idea as your lips ghosted over his. It was almost sweet, nearly innocent, with how he instantly grew hard from your hand just resting high on his thigh. 

Felix almost squealed as you roughly grabbed onto his erection, only silenced by your hand clamped over his mouth. He stared at you wildly in the dimly lit room, his whimpers muffled by your palm. 

“What the hell kind of gonzo operation are you running here having me sleep with a virgin without any prior knowledge?” You hissed. Felix bit into your hand and slid out from under you. He landed on the floor with a thud and you quickly pounced on top of him, wrestling him around until you got a hold on him. You whipped Felix’s belt out from his jeans and lassoed it around his wrists behind his back before manhandling him up, grunting as you shoved him onto a chair from in front of the control console. With a confrontation like yours and a response like his, there was no way this was some huge misunderstanding. 

“Who’s a virgin?” Felix panted. 

“Jisung,” you growled, eyes narrowed. 

“He never mentioned that to us,” Felix shook his head. 

“Right, and none of them watch porn,” you scoffed. Felix shrugged helplessly. You spied another cord to bind Felix’s tied wrists to the chair backing. Finding two more in the grip’s toolbag, you were able to bind his ankles as well. He wasn’t even struggling, but you couldn’t be too careful. “I have more questions, and I’m sure I’m not the only one,” you warned, when you heard a buzzing emanating from Felix’s pocket. You reached forward, digging into his jeans for his phone. It was a text from Jeongin. 

>>I could’ve sworn I was on her trail. 

You eyed Felix and he stared you down, challenging you and ultimately unable to stop you as you began typing. 

>It’s fine. I found her. I don’t see your stuff at the house so I’m guessing you took it. Get some rest and I’ll deal with this.

>>Are you sure?

>Yes. I got it. 

“You stay put,” you warned.

“What’s stopping me from calling for help?” Felix smirked at you, unimpressed until you casually unfurled your apron, dropped in the scuffle, and pulled out your used panties. You stuffed them in his mouth before you found a roll of gaff tape.

“I saw a roll of packing tape over there,” you taunted, “tell me how many cameras and mics are in the house and I’ll use that instead.”

Felix’s knee bounced nervously as he stared at the gaff tape in your hand. He pathetically spit out your panties. “Your show doesn’t have any dedicated mics, only the on-board audio on the cameras. Three each in the common areas and your room, one in each hallway, one in each bathroom pointed away from the toilet, one in the laundry room, and one in each bedroom.”

“Night vision?”

Felix shook his head defeatedly. 

“That’s such shitty coverage,” you smirked, “and here I was thinking there were more I hadn’t noticed.”

“Nope,” Felix grumbled, “just a tight budget.”

“You stay put,” you directed as you strolled over to the table on the other side of the room and grabbed the roll of packing tape, “and you stay quiet.” 

You shucked off your heels and softly clicked the attic door closed behind you before you navigated your way through the dark house. Thankfully, being here and getting so familiar with the set over time helped you know where everything was, every jutting edge and squeaky spot in the floor. You didn’t predict that your paranoia would make every creak of the house unsettling, though. 

Chan was bleary-eyed and bruised as he opened the door, and nearly exclaimed when he realized it was you. You pressed a serious finger against his lips as you pushed him back into his room and shut the door behind you. He watched curiously as you looked around his room until you came to his desk. You surreptitiously knocked over a wireless speaker while reaching for the lamp and quickly dropped a blanket onto the fallen device, adding a pillow for good measure. 

“Did you know there was a camera hidden in your room?” You asked. In the light you could see Chan was actually still icing a bruise on his chin from the brawl earlier. He stared. 

“Sure, but I was told the crew would always let me know me when it’s on.”

“Apparently not,” you shook your head. “I need your help. I have a problem.”

“Anything,” Chan eagerly said as he stepped forward earnestly. You stepped back away. He winced, almost as if he was burned by an iron he didn’t realize was still hot. 

“I need to know what you know. I need to know I can trust you.”

Chan bit at his lip before he tiredly sat on the bed. He reached for his hoodie and pulled it on over his bare chest, zipping it up and snuggling into it. The sigh he let out felt preparatory. “I thought you looked familiar on the first day,” he began carefully, “but I wasn’t sure. I’d only ever seen parts of your face at once, you know? And I had to lie through my teeth and scrub my portfolio clean to even get this gig, like I already graduated two years ago, but I still said I’m younger in case they wanted younger. The big thing they sold me as the hook was that there was going to be a staff member casted to try and trip us up during the show. I thought that was exciting. And everyone thought it was the cook, because of course they did. And, I don’t know…”

“You thought it was me?” You smirked. The cook was outrageously villainous-looking, with severe features and a ridiculous mustache to boot. 

“Yes, I thought the cook was too obvious,” Chan admitted shamefully, drawing his hands up into his sleeves before burying his face in them for a moment. “So I kept my distance. That morning you joined us for yoga, I knew it was you, and you were plotting something, I was so sure of it. Later that night I went to go see if I could find anything out and—“

“Me and Changbin?”

“You and Changbin,” Chan rubbed his face in his hands again. “And I knew for sure that I recognized you, because of, you know… your moaning. I at least know how you sound. It was unmistakably you, but I couldn’t tell you I’m me. I thought it was a crazy coincidence, being here with you, but I was afraid of anyone finding out and me getting kicked off the show.”

“So you knew it was me. What then?” You asked patiently as you pulled out the chair for his desk. There wasn’t a ton of time, but you had time for this.

“The next morning we had that challenge right at dawn. And we all had hints planted for us when we woke up, and you remember Minho had the red herring?”

You shrugged, vaguely remembering something along those lines earlier in the series. Chan charged on. 

“The hints could’ve only been planted overnight, and you were, er, busy. You went to bed and I didn’t hear you come out before I gave up and went to sleep.” 

You watched, almost touched by how clearly Chan was upset with himself, refusing to look at you as he fidgeted with his fingers, the zipper of his hoodie, your necklace he was still wearing.

“Originally, when Changbin was first wondering about you, I made up that thing about you wanting more screen time. I just didn’t want him to flirt with you. I didn’t want your big break to be filled with guys being creeps.”

“How ironic,” you mused. 

“The more I saw you flirting with the guys, the more weird I felt about it. Something felt so off, and I was so on edge and paranoid, that I started to wonder if maybe you were that person, maybe you did want extra screen time or something. I had the brilliant idea to confront you in the attic, but I didn’t expose you or anything, I was only making an ass out of myself because I knew you were telling the truth as soon as you said it. I knew I was wrong. I was just being an asshole.”

A thought suddenly came to mind. “So the other night? When you were listening in on me?”

Chan flopped back into his bed in exasperation. “I was trying to see if it was a good time to talk, hopefully apologize.”

He sat back up, his head falling right back into his hands. You gingerly leaned forward to pick his head up. You’d imagined this, something like this, innocuous touches like this. It was odd to think just a night ago you didn’t know you’d actually be doing this with someone you’d known for years but never met. 

“I’m so sorry,” he lamented as he leaned into your hand, “I hope I didn’t ruin acting too much for you. I’m an awful friend.”

“No,” you sighed, and you meant it. “I wanted to expand my acting resume, sure, but you knew I’d been wanting to try expanding my AV career more. I took the gig mostly for that.”

“What do you mean?” Chan stared blankly at you, head lifted from your hand. You stared back. 

“What do you mean?”

“What does this show have to do with your AV career?”

You shook your head, flabbergasted. “It doesn’t have anything to do with it. At least, your show doesn’t. Mine entirely does.”

“Your show?”

Chan leaned forward as you leaned back, both of you with your lips parted in grand-scale confusion until you realized. And then you were furious. 

“I told you I have a problem. You need to come upstairs. Right now.”

You pulled Chan along by the sleeve in the dark hallway and back up the stairs to the attic. He almost yelled when he saw Felix tied and gagged in the chair. You shut the door behind you. Chan was frozen, hand over his mouth in surprise. This looked bad, you realized. You took out your phone and played an audio clip. Felix’s voice crackled out of your phone, explaining how much money you’d won for inspiring the fight earlier that night. Chan’s face was cryptic. 

“Do you know who this is?” You asked him. Chan barely shook his head as he still tried to process everything. “He knows who you are. Felix is the assistant to the executive producer of my show. Maybe yours, too. I have no idea, since I’ve never met either of them.”

“What exactly,” Chan murmured, “is your show?”

“Simkung House,” you sighed, arms folded. You felt so tired, so sore. “One lucky housekeeper has to try and seduce five young bachelors during a show they’re filming, without them finding out about each other.” You peeled off Felix’s gag and pulled your panties from his lips to drop them on the floor. “And tonight I fucked a virgin without my knowing.”

Chan watched the deep frown etching into your face. You could see his fists clenching by his side. “Who—“

“Jisung, apparently,” Felix rasped with a weak smile. “Tonight’s episode is yesterday, so tomorrow our paying audience is going to watch you take that nice right hook to the face he gave you.”

The slap Chan landed across Felix’s cheek reverberated in the attic before you could stop him, pressing your hands into the rough rise and fall of his chest as he seethed. Chan still elbowed past you and grabbed Felix by the collar of his shirt, pulling him against his bindings. “I have some questions,” he growled, “the first being why you didn’t get talent that actually fucking do porn.”

“Nice guard dog,” Felix laughed meanly as he looked at you, “does he do any tricks?”

“Yeah, I know a pretty fucking good one,” Chan gritted as he cocked his hand back into a fist this time. 

“It wasn’t my fucking idea,” Felix spat, “but performers like her cost too much. The execs decided it was easier to hide clauses in your contracts.”

“Oh,” Chan scoffed, “so I could’ve gotten more money if you pricks were on the level.”

“Felix,” you stepped in, “what’s the bigger reason for you to use no-names and actors who never did AV’s? It can’t just be for authenticity. There’s too much liability. They don’t know how this all works.”

Felix wriggled in Chan’s grip as he eyed you warily. “Liability isn’t an issue if you sign it all away. Control and authenticity, that’s what we wanted. You were the most knowledgeable of the cast aside from maybe him and even then you both didn’t check all the clauses closely enough. Liability was defined as consequences and results of the show, and we’re absolved. None of you have good management, if any.”

Chan dropped Felix back into the chair, roughly enough that he tipped onto the floor with a crash. Neither of you paid him much mind as you leaned back against the console table with your arms folded. Chan was fuming as he paced with his hands on his hips. “You used her, and you used us, so give me a good reason why we shouldn’t walk right this second.”

“Because of your contracts, idiots. If you talk or walk, no one gets their winnings, on either show, and the producers have the right to sue for damages.”

“Winnings? We’re mostly getting tuition and grants,” Chan retorted.

“Not her,” Felix grinned. “She has 500 million won on the line.”

Chan’s head whipped toward you, slack-jawed. You nodded. In comparison, it was insulting. You looked up at Chan, who stopped his pacing to look at you. “You ever bundle up a bunch of blankets to look like you’re still in bed and then sneak out?” 

“Sure,” Chan said, distracted by clearly wanting to beat up Felix still turtled on the floor, “why?”

“The cameras don’t have night vision. I’ll cut the lights in case anything is still on, and you get the boys. Don’t use your flashlights. We all need to talk.”

You walked over to the breaker box on the wall and opened it, flipping everything off but the attic. Chan nodded, giving Felix a wary look before creeping downstairs. 

Felix let out a disgruntled sigh below you. “Didn’t you slap the shit out of him earlier? I saw it in the raw feed. I thought you hated him.”

“No, I’m just mad at him,” you grumbled. 

“Hyung, it’s three in the fucking morning,” Changbin tiredly groaned as the boys filed in behind Chan. He had his arms crossed over the thin tank top barely shielding him from the cool air of the attic. Minho was still wearing a sleeping mask, pulled up onto his forehead. Hyunjin was sporting a dark bruise on his cheek to mirror the one on Jisung’s. Both the younger cast members looked particularly hurt, but in different directions — Hyunjin’s contempt versus Jisung’s heartbreak. All four boys froze as they took notice of you standing over Felix tied up on the floor. 

“Apparently,” you sighed, “we’re not all on the same page. This is Felix.” You looked down and matched his nasty look. “Explain, dirtbag.”

Felix muttered under his breath before grumbling out the story as you all understood it — who he was, you were, the separate shows, the shady contracts, and your exorbitant prize at stake. You and Chan filled in the other pertinent details. The hurt in their eyes was heartbreaking, realizing they’d been played when they thought they each had your attention all to themselves. Bruised egos and hurt feelings and fear all around. They’d all shot porn without knowing it, and most of them had already had their scenes broadcasted. The boys all stood astounded and silent as Felix finished his story until Minho finally piped up, towards Chan. 

“Hyung, they told you there would be a saboteur and you still didn’t think it was the cook?”

“It was too obvious!” Chan reeled, “and none of you knew?”

The boys collectively shook their heads.

“We were trying to make sure you would take the lead in the show, but we didn’t predict you to make it interesting by being stupid,” Felix sneered up at Chan, cut off into a yelp as he kicked at the chair. 

“So if any of us walk, we all lose everything?” Changbin asked. 

“Fine,” Jisung muttered, “you all do what you want, but that’s what I’m doing.” He turned to walk down the stairs and the remaining boys exchanged looks. 

Chan folded his arms. “I think it’s the best thing to do, too. We’ve all been used.”

“No,” you shook your head, “we may have all been used, but I think the best thing to do then is wring these monsters dry. I’ll split the prize money.”

“Is that all?” Hyunjin glowered before Changbin shushed him. 

“If you can all last today and finish the show, then I can, too,” you assured them. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“It sucks,” Minho shrugged, “but we understand. I do, at least. You were playing the game. You just didn’t know you were playing by yourself. I’ll stay.” Changbin and Hyunjin grumbled in reluctant agreement. 

You gave Minho a grateful smile. “We should get some rest then. I’ll talk to Jisung.” 

The boys sleepily trudged back downstairs but Chan hung back and detached Felix from his chair. Felix spilled onto the floor, wrists still tied. Chan rolled him onto his stomach with his foot before dropping down to sit on his back, trapping Felix against the hardwood. 

“I know your plan now,” Felix grumbled into the floor. “What’s keeping me from outing you?”

“Because you’re just an assistant,” you pitifully shook your head at Felix as you lowered to squat down in front of him. You spoke in plain English now. Felix was the first to fixate on your multiple languages, and you’d always assumed it was at least partly spurred on by his own. Chan’s eyebrows quirked at the switch. You reached forward and grabbed Felix’s bound wrists, pulling them up and away from his back enough to make him grunt in discomfort. Chan watched, half curious, half goading as you kept a firm hold on him. “You’re just an assistant, Felix, and we’re not the only ones held hostage by this show. You’re such a good boy for the Big Boss that the moment something goes wrong, he’ll pin everything on you.”

Felix struggled hard under Chan’s weight and your hold. “Fuck you! I’ve put a lot of time into this—“

“Exactly, Felix,” you chided. You did drop his wrists now but lifted his chin to look at you. His English was cute. It was too bad he was a creep. “You put so much time into both these shows. You helped with casting and keeping production on time and within budget, you probably helped with costuming and product placement and location scouting and writing. You have your hands in a lot of pots. What I have are multiple texts of you being a flirty creep. And I have you recorded saying you would do anything for me and even come into the house with me.”

“Pig,” Chan shook his head disgustedly as he lifted Felix’s wrists behind his back himself this time, straining him until Felix cried out and you slapped Chan’s hands off. 

You brought Felix’s chin up to look at you again. “If you’re proud of your work, then let us finish the shows. You’ll get your credit. If this ever does come to a head, I’ll destroy the recording and say I was encouraging you to flirt with me from our first meeting. But if you rat on us, the Big Boss will throw you to the wolves when we tear this down and there will be no help for you.”

Felix looked hard into your eyes, the pain of his choice apparent as he reluctantly nodded. You waited patiently for him to say something. 

“Fine.”

You reached forward to untie Felix and motioned for Chan to let him up. Felix cracked his neck and massaged his wrists. You found yourself fixing the collar of his shirt as Chan carefully watched. “Thanks, Felix.”

Felix held his hand out expectantly and you thought he meant for you to shake it before you realized you were still holding his phone and belt. You placed them back in his hand, hoping the deadly look in your eye reminded him how serious you were. He sighed miserably, looking between you and Chan before silently turning to walk downstairs. 

Now it was just you and Chan. You collected your panties from the floor before you walked over to the breaker box and flipped everything downstairs into the proper place. Your feet were sore as you slipped your shoes back on. 

“I know I said we should walk,” Chan said as he gathered the bungee cords and put the chair back in its place, “but I admire you splitting the money.”

“Could’ve had more to split,” you tersely shrugged as you took the cords from him and put them back where you found them. You gave him a pointed look. Chan winced as you breezed past him and down the stairs. 

You could’ve checked Jisung’s room to find him, but your feet brought you down to the study. Sure enough, there was Jisung, looking over the books on the shelves. 

“You going to miss it?”

“Sure,” Jisung shrugged, “it’s my first show. Just last month I found out about the audition after my improv show one night, and now I’m being humiliated in front of a paying audience.”

“Jisung,” you lamented as you set a hand on his shoulder. He regarded it warily. 

“I know you were just playing the game as you understood it,” Jisung sighed, “but my pride is hurt. All those people are going to watch me lose my virginity and get into my first fistfight.”

“That was your first? You don’t punch like it was your first,” you gave a light smile, and he eventually returned it. 

“If you’re giving me a performance review, did I seem like a virgin?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head, “you’re great. You keep surprising me.”

“Thanks,” Jisung said quietly. 

“Help me make this work,” you pleaded. “It’s not enough, but we’ll take home some extra money for our trouble. Please stay, and then you can forget about me and the show forever. I’ll leave you out of the aftermath as much as possible.”

Jisung meditated on it for a moment. “What if I don’t want to forget about you?”

“Then I’ll come see you when you go back to doing improv, maybe sit in on your campaign back home,” you reasoned sweetly, and it made him give up a wider grin. 

“I’ll stay, then,” Jisung decided. “After all, it’s just acting.” You let out a thankful sigh and cautiously drew Jisung to you, careful that he might still be cold to you, and gently hugged him close. As he eventually returned the gesture, you softened and kissed his cheek goodnight before heading downstairs. 

A glint in the light of the basement caught your eye as you neared your bedroom. Chan’s necklace hung on the doorknob. You held it in your hand, the light material heavy with the events of the day. There were still DM’s from Chan you hadn’t even read yet, and you eyed your phone suspiciously from where it sat on your blankets as you changed for bed. Finally, you allowed yourself to look through your notifications. You felt oddly bashful as you scrolled too far, up to the video he’d sent you the other night. Words were escaping you, attached to feelings that hadn’t even picked a shape to form into. However, you knew something needed to be said.

>I may have been too mean up there. I understand why you were being a dick for the most part. 

>>I have been such an asshole. I’ve been out of line since day one.

>You were playing your own one-sided game, too. And with an extra obstacle thrown in. 

>>Thanks for not saying anything to the guys, by the way. 

>Too many surprises for one night. Do they even know you speak English?

>>Do they know YOU speak English? They know I’m older than I said, but I don’t think they know I’m older than you. They don’t know my real name. 

>Well I know you speak English, and I know you’re older than me. Do I get to know your real name?

>>Chris. 

>I like that. It’ll be weird to get used to, though. 

>>How about Chan is an asshole, but I’m Chris. 

>Nice try. Get some sleep. 

>>I should’ve told you the moment I was sure. I’m sorry. Goodnight. 

🎥🖤🎥🖤🎥🖤🎥

What little sleep you’d received couldn’t even be bolstered by the incredible amount of coffee you swallowed the next morning. You caught Chan doing the same over the lip of your mug and he choked on his coffee, ears reddening as he went to finish getting ready. The other boys looked just as puzzled at Chan’s outburst. Minho was quiet as he slid up next to you at the counter in the kitchen, letting the rest of the room talk over him. 

“Porn, huh?” He wasn’t judgmental, he wasn’t rude. He was simply curious. He watched you carefully nod into your mug. “It’s good? You enjoy it?”

You nodded again. “Do you mind?”

“No,” Minho smiled, “I’m a little jealous, but that’s not your fault. I’m just glad you didn’t sleep with Hyunjin just because you wanted to. He’s been so dramatic about the whole thing.”

You tried not to laugh too loudly, settling instead for another helping of coffee. 

“Who was best?” Minho smirked at you. “Objectively speaking, of course. Was it Channie-hyung?”

You did laugh now, but tried to keep it down. You shook your head. “I didn’t sleep with Chan.”

“Ah,” Minho smiled, “so I was probably the best.”

The two of you shared a snickered laugh between you before you set about the rest of the day. Truly, it was a bizarre experience. You and the boys all shared looks like you all knew something was running in the background. They were hyper-aware. Some of their actions and banter seemed stilted, distracted. Jisung had to run a line five times because his mind was so firmly somewhere else. Not to mention Minho and Changbin would not stop looking at you, and Chan was back on his trajectory of nervously avoiding you altogether. 

Chan also happened to be where you were the most lost. You were still hurt, of course, that hadn’t changed, but you were conflicted. Here was this guy, this friend, this confidant that you’d known for so long, but now an unexpected series of events put a strain on that relationship, on that trust. You were confident that guy was still in there, but you couldn’t quite make an estimate on when you would be open to returning to that. Despite all logic saying otherwise, you almost hoped it would be soon. However, if he kept avoiding you, whether for shame or shyness, you wouldn’t get it in the near future. 

You were still keeping up appearances, even so close to wrapping the show, taking care of the odd chore here and there and helping the boys pack. You were heading to Jisung and Hyunjin’s room to fix the beds when a hand shot out from the bathroom and grabbed you. Changbin held a finger to his lips as he did the same to yours while Minho leaned over and turned on the shower to its hottest and hardest setting, quickly filling the room with steam and the minor roar of running water. The three of you were huddled by the toilet, with Changbin letting you go so he could sit up on top of the tank and Minho leaned against the sink. The boys signaled for you to be quiet until the door opened again. It was Hyunjin. All three boys reached for their mic packs to turn them off and Hyunjin crowded in beside you. 

“You didn’t sleep with Channie-hyung,” Minho said quietly as he eyed the camera, apparently hidden in a vanity light over the mirror. 

“Yeah,” you ogled, “so?”

“So, noona,” Changbin explained, “that puts us in the odd predicament of—“

“We want that money,” Hyunjin blurted. 

“We want that money,” Minho confirmed.

“What?!”

All three boys pounced on you to quiet your outburst. 

Minho was the first to pipe back up. “Noona, you said it yourself. You want to wring these monsters dry. We’re not exactly doing that if you don’t run away with all the money you can. Don’t you want to win?”

“I am not sleeping with Chan,” you laughed tepidly. 

“Why not? He’s crazy about you,” Hyunjin reeled, “at least, I hope he is with how he acts about you. Otherwise he’s a lunatic.”

“Well I’m not crazy about him,” you insisted. 

“Then it’s work! It’s work like you were hired to do in this stupid game,” Changbin persisted. “What did Chan-hyung ever do to you?”

“Aside from being a creep?” You deadpanned. The boys all looked a bit guilty. You knew they were right, but you hated how much personal bullshit was in the way. “Besides, what would you even be doing with your shares? Hyunjin, you’re fucking rich.”

“And I’m very fucking close to being cut off by my parents when they find out where I’ve been this whole time,” Hyunjin retorted, “which is not at a couple conventions for school like they currently think.”

“Jisung isn’t rich,” Minho pressed, “he wants to open a game bar with his friends and needs a starting investment. I’m not rich either and while I would appreciate tuition to finish culinary school, tuition won’t help me move to Japan to keep training.”

“Well?” You looked at Changbin, exasperated. “Go on, then, tell me the awesome thing you’re doing with your share.”

“It’s a nest egg for my physical therapy doctorate,” Changbin admitted. 

You let out a thorough groan. “Well, I can’t do it,” you flippantly explained, “and even if I did, I don’t have a plan.”

All three boys beamed at you, but Minho looked particularly proud. “We do.”

🎥🖤🎥🖤🎥🖤🎥

Finding Chan wasn’t difficult once you figured out his game. Whatever his reason was for avoiding you, you at least knew he would be doing his laundry again before he finished packing. You listened carefully in your room, waiting for footsteps to travel from his room down to the basement. This lined up with how you were sure you caught him coming down here earlier in the day. You stepped lightly, trying not to let your heels click on the floor as you let yourself in. Sure enough, there was Chan, oblivious as he finished loading his laundry into the dryer. It took him shutting the door to the machine to finally see you still standing at the doorway. You quietly pulled the door closed behind you. 

Chan stood, surprised and silent while he waited for you to do something, say something. His eyes were on your fingers, watching as they gathered at the top of your blouse and plucked open the top button. Chan gulped. His throat apparently ran dry. 

“What’re you—“

“Oppa,” you said clearly as you eyed the camera in the back of the room, “I’m sorry for yesterday. I was so intimidated when you revealed your age to me, but I know you only told me because you want to trust me. I want you to know you can. I trust you, too.”

It was cheesy and ridiculous and entirely unsubstantiated, enough so that Chan was bewildered as he checked the settings on the dryer and surreptitiously scanned the room to find the camera you were clearly acting for. He found it, nestled amongst the detergents and cleaning products on the shelves lining the back of the room. Chan rigidly turned back to see you undo the next button on your blouse. He visibly swallowed again before he started the dryer, the machine instantly broadcasting a solid hum as he warily approached you. 

“What’re you doing?” He asked quietly as you worked at the third button. His ears burned crimson when you switched off your mic pack and drew him close, sliding your hands around his waist and doing the same for his, flicking the tiny black switch. 

“I trust you,” you breathed, “do you trust me?” Chan nodded timidly. You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his and you could swear you could hear your heart thumping. Maybe his, too. You leaned forward first. He hesitated. His fingers swept your hair back like they had the previous night, only cautiously now. The pouty lips that inspired his username were parted, almost as if Chan wanted to say something, but instead closed the gap between your mouths as he finally kissed you. 

You’d pictured this more than a few times, being kissed by Duckie — Chris — Chan — but you still hadn’t predicted how passionate this would feel, how he would groan low in his throat the moment you reciprocated as if he’d been craving it. 

“Are you sure?” Chan murmured. He waited for your shallow nod before he kissed you again, his firm hands gently pressing you against the door and his parted lips grazing your neck. “Any rules?” 

“Yeah,” you smirked, “make it look good.”

“Got it,” Chan laughed quietly, but even then he was surprised as you pushed him back and started working at the buttons of his shirt. He charged ahead and pulled off his blazer and shirt for you, dropping them to the floor and you found yourself suddenly confronted once again with this chest that you were very familiar with. You attempted to convince yourself that you were just making it look good, but you knew damn well that the camera could not see as you took a moment to run your hands over him, letting your fingers roam the dips and planes of his body. It was a surreal experience, walking your fingers along the lines of his arms, his torso, his hips, previously only committed to memory from pictures and videos. Chan capitalized on your distraction to take over in finishing undoing the buttons of your shirt, but even then his hands hesitated to open your blouse more until you finally came back around and did it for him. 

If Chan was going to be as gentle as you predicted, you’d known you would have to wind him up. You had reviewed the entire Rolodex of mental notes you’d taken since knowing him before even coming in here, and hopefully it would pay off. Mostly, you’d hoped it would successfully rile him up, but you had to admit you mostly wanted to see his focus set entirely on you. Your hands swept up his arms to his neck to pull him close for another deep kiss, the speed of the gesture making you fall back against the door with him in tow. Chan instantly grunted at the move, especially as your knee rubbed up against his thigh. His hands were quick to respond, and you gasped as he grabbed your leg, wrapping you around him so he could press against you. He paused as he felt the garter holding up your stocking, intrigued by the discovery. Chan leaned away, enough that you could see his impressed smirk. You’d tried to remember every piece of lingerie, every hairstyle, every nuance of your makeup he’d ever complimented, just in case he’d needed any extra convincing, but that apparently wasn’t so necessary as he dropped your leg and pulled you along to back you up against the washing machine. 

You were excited to see if Chan could think on his feet as much as you had been, and he didn’t fail to surprise you as he hazarded a quick glance at the camera to make sure you were both positioned at a good angle for coverage before he reached forward and brazenly unzipped your skirt. He watched with satisfaction as the garment fell to the floor, better revealing your garters and the panties that smartly complemented your bra. His gaze wasn’t just hungry, it almost looked affectionate, and you didn’t even know what to do with that realization before he thankfully interrupted it by easily picking you up and pushing you on top of the washing machine. Chan swept your hair back before he kissed you again, his hands gliding over around your waist and behind you to unclip and slip off your bra. You let out a content sigh as his lips trailed over your neck and shoulders, only stopping as he caught you unbuckling his belt. Chan kicked off his shoes and slacks, but suddenly put a hand on yours as you dipped your fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs. 

“I swear to god,” he laughed into your shoulder as he kissed you there again, “do not make me get naked on this show.”

You couldn’t contain your giggle and Chan quickly stifled you with another kiss to your lips, planting a trail of kisses down your chin and throat, down between your cleavage and down over your stomach before his warm breath ghosted over your soaked pussy. He tugged your panties off and let them drop to the floor before he grasped at the straps of your garters on your thighs, spreading you open and slinging your legs over his shoulders as he finally placed a kiss to your soft pussy lips. Your groans echoed each other as his tongue explored you, getting to know you on this new level as his hands hungrily grabbed onto you, rubbing affectionate little circles into your thighs with his thumbs. Somehow, it almost seemed like Chan also remembered some notes of his own as you felt his fingers probe against your entrance. He wasn’t fast with the thrusting digits, just like you liked it, as he slowly scissored them in and out of you in contrast with his quick tongue.

Chan held you down as you writhed against his mouth and fingers, easily making you sit and take it while he worked you into a breathless mess, and you could feel the seeds of an orgasm being planted. You quickly dismissed the thought; getting too caught up in the idea would put too much pressure to finish, especially with him. This, however, didn’t seem to be an issue that occurred to him as he continued to goad you into cumming, his other hand snaking up your belly and between your breasts to gently grip your throat. He didn’t squeeze, he really only placed his hand possessively around your neck — just the way you wanted it. You might’ve casually mentioned that to him, once, months ago, and that realization was what sent you over the edge into a shuddering orgasm, whining and whimpering as you threaded your fingers into Chan’s hair and tugged since he still wouldn’t let you grind your hips against or away from his tongue. 

Chan finally pulled back, chin glistening and a satisfied smirk on his face as he came up for air and stood to straighten his back out. You caught your breath while you looked him over, his flushed cheeks apparent even through his light makeup and still contrasting with the pretty shade of pink that had spread through him, down to his chest and further down still to Chan’s rigid erection still concealed in his boxer briefs. From prior knowledge, you were sure his length was blushing as well and fit to leak precum at any moment. You caught each other’s eye, exposed in ogling each other and inexplicably bashful from it before you broke the tension and sat up on the washing machine to hop off onto the floor. Chan watched, patiently curious as you switched places now and pushed him back against the machine. His pupils were blown wide with arousal, taking in the sight of you pulling out his cock into your warm grip and, sure enough, it was cutely red and leaking the moment you felt it bare in your hand. Chan choked out a shivered moan as you gently stroked him. 

You leaned up now, meeting his gaze before you kissed him deep, your tongue languidly swiping against his before you pulled back, just enough to make a show of letting a single drip of saliva fall from your lips and onto his cock in your hand before massaging it onto his length — just the way he liked it. Chan leaned forward, resting his head on your shoulder as you firmly stroked his cock, his moans almost pretty and restrained as he clenched his fists. He apparently didn’t want too much, his head leaning back once as he let out a thick groan before he grabbed your hips again, now impatiently bending you over the washing machine. The soft, slick head of Chan’s cock pressed up against your sensitive pussy lips before prodding into your entrance. You could hear him let out a steady breath, punctuated with his gripping fingers on your hip as he teased the length inside you. He bottomed out with a content sigh and, with the angle figured out, he pulled at your elbow to hold you back against his chest as he finally fucked you. 

Chan was precise as you felt his fingers slide down your torso and between your legs to toy with your clit and you gasped, a sharp tingle of overstimulation shooting straight through your hips. 

“Wait, wait,” you gasped, “too much—“

“I know,” Chan murmured as he dragged his lips along your shoulder and up to your throat, “I want to try something.”

Your nails dug into his arm as he softly stroked your clit, still soaked from his tongue as he fucked you. You knew exactly what he was trying. Again, ages ago, you had told Chan about the first time a guy got you to cum twice and you didn’t have to fake it, and it was by doing exactly this, fucking you from behind as he played with your clit. Chan almost growled against your neck as he worked you over, his turgid length hitting you at the right angle where he had you stood up like this so he could rub up against your most sensitive spot. You knew this had to be loud as hell, Chan groaning and you whining as his cock rammed into you, but you found it hard to worry about being heard when all that currently occupied your thoughts was white noise. The only thing you could focus on was Chan and fucking Chan, and fucking Chan while he intently worked to make you cum again. 

“You feel so good,” he panted behind you, and it wasn’t a revelation, it was a confirmation. You wondered, for a moment, if he’d been thinking of this just as often as you had, if he casually thought about it every once in a while as you had for years now. 

“You feel so good,” you gasped, even more so as his other hand moved up to gently hold your throat again. It hadn’t even occurred to you that another orgasm was actually building in you again until that pot boiled over, and Chan cursed and moaned out loud as you whimpered through your climax on his cock, the depths of your pussy contracting around and constricting his length. 

Chan gently slid out of you and turned you around in his arms so he could lean you back against the washing machine to regain your composure. You allowed the exhausted kiss he pressed to your temple. He caught his breath as well, but he seemed preoccupied as you clung to him, your arms around his waist. It was for support, sure, but actually experiencing his presence like this was still a little surreal. His cock, streaked in your juices, was nudged up against your thigh as he held you. He raised a curious eyebrow as you lifted your leg and wrapped yourself around him as he had you do earlier. His eyes silently implored you as you reached down between your bodies to guide his slick erection back inside of you. 

He hesitated. Really?

You nodded. Yes. 

Between you still recovering from both orgasms and Chan still working on getting his, you both struggled out a moan as he rocked into you again, his persistently hard cock dragging along your sore walls. You were both a mess of tangled hair and perspiration. Chan held fast onto you, one arm around your waist and a hand still holding your spread leg around his hip, so intent to chase his peak that he wasn’t even opening up for the camera anymore. An odd sense of intimacy raised the hair on the back of your neck; it was just you and him right now. You reached for him, your fingers cupping his face and drawing him close for a shaky kiss. It was apparent from his eyes shut in concentration, his breathy gasps, his stuttered moans, that he wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer, but you knew you wanted to be the one to push him over the edge. 

You leaned back just enough that he could sense you looking up into his eyes, but still staying close enough that you could speak to him under your breath. He gazed at you under his heavy eyelashes, his eyes soaked in infatuation to the point of intoxication. 

“I want to try something,” you grinned exhaustedly. Chan couldn’t even muster the stamina to say something; he only nodded. Your fingers curled into his hair and drew him close, and your breath tickling his ear made him shudder. 

“Cum.”

Your one-word command seemed to send a shock through Chan as he gritted and groaned through his orgasm, starting at his hips and emanating through to his fingers clutching onto you as his weight collapsed against you. His hips stuttered as he rode it out, your exhausted pussy still responsive enough to throb and milk his cock of every drop of cum he probably ever saved for you. 

You held him like that, still dazedly stroking his hair with your fingers as he gasped for air where he was deadweight against your shoulder. Finally, Chan seemed to gain enough wherewithal to let himself slide out of you and finally grab his pants, digging out his phone to check the time. His eyes grew comically wide, blinking back to life as he realized he needed to put himself back together in time to film the formal finale when he was distracted by your fingers on his wrist. He looked pointedly at your hand there before his eyes followed your arm back up to your eyes, trying hard to make sure you wouldn’t forget this. His tense shoulders softened and he stopped where he stood, about to snatch up the rest of his clothes, and switched tracks to instead pull you close again. Chan stroked your hair back away from your forehead and kissed you gently on the lips when a crash came through the laundry room door. 

You both jolted as Minho came clambering into the doorway of the small room, dragging Hyunjin by the collar of his shirt. They were both interrupted by the sight of both of you, practically naked and still embracing each other. 

“You whore!” Minho theatrically denounced. He was aghast as he tugged Hyunjin to attention, who was currently distracted by your exposed form. “I was going to ask you why the hell I found your underwear in Hyunjin’s luggage while I was helping him pack, but I can see you’re a bit busy.” Minho even brandished the offending garment for effect. 

Chan warily eyed the boys and then you before the pieces locked into place. He surreptitiously shoved his cock back into his briefs before he marched forward. You watched as Chan snatched the panties from Minho’s hand and quickly wheeled around to confront you. 

“I’m sure there’s something I’m not understanding here,” Chan insisted, “I’m sure Hyunjin just stole these from you, right?” 

You were suddenly very glad you were mostly turned away from the camera in the back of the room as Chan’s sudden dramatics nearly made you crack. Thankfully, Hyunjin saved you before you could be caught laughing. 

“No, stupid,” Hyunjin sneered, “she let me have them after we fucked. Why do you think Jisung got all pissy with me last night? He fucked her, too.”

“Hyunjin, you fucked her?!” Minho reeled. Chan stepped forward, squaring up against Hyunjin in the doorway. 

“When?!” Chan interrogated as he dramatically balled his fist into the collar of Hyunjin’s shirt. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Hyunjin giggled, his shit-eating grin wide before Chan beat his other fist into the door of the laundry room. The three of you silently alerted to Chan’s outburst, feeling a touch more genuine than the rest of the charade. Admittedly, the finer details of when and where you slept with them all was a bit glossed over in your impromptu meeting the previous night.

“Tell me, you little shit,” Chan theatrically pushed him, getting back on the level, “you get one last chance to say you’re lying.”

“Chan, I—“ you piped up behind them. All three boys glared back at you and you nearly broke into a fit of laughter again. Chan turned his attention back to threateningly cocking his fist back. 

“You better admit you’re lying,” Chan warned, before Minho clapped a hand onto his fist. You quietly tried to grab your clothes as the boys hashed it out. 

“What good is that going to do? I slept with her too,” Minho admonished. Hyunjin and Chan turned to gape at you in disbelief. 

“Besides, I don’t need to tell you anything,” Hyunjin laughed as he turned his attention back to Chan, “she knows I was better anyway.”

“Or she pitied you,” Chan retorted. This was all so much more exaggerated than you’d imagined, and doubly so as he apparently struck a nerve with Hyunjin, who proceeded to headbutt Chan directly in his nose. He rocked back on his feet, a hand clapped over his nose as he cursed. You and Minho both gasped, unable to stop Chan as he reacted with a swift punch to Hyunjin’s stomach and sent him crumpling to the floor. Minho squared his shoulders against Chan as you sneakily began to get a little more dressed. 

“You fucking brute, I’ve had it with you—” Minho barked, and Chan got in his face. 

“Don’t be mad at me because I fucked her, too,” Chan shook his head, when Hyunjin got back to his senses enough to tackle into Chan’s knees. Chan dragged Minho down with him, and all three boys were suddenly in a scuffle on the floor, blocking you from leaving the laundry room. 

It didn’t look like it could get much worse until Changbin strolled downstairs, supposedly unaware of all the commotion. 

“Hey, we’re going to be filming soon—“ and Changbin was cut off as he witnessed all three boys wrestling and scrapping on the floor, with you still half-dressed behind them. Even as Changbin tried to break it up, the three boys accused him of sleeping with you as well and he was promptly dragged into the fray. 

It was getting out of hand fast when Jisung finally arrived down to the basement. He stood, paused at the bottom of the stairs, and you again nearly burst into a fit of laughter at how preposterous this whole thing became. Now as Jisung entered the conflict, the boys all slowed to a stop to regard him. Comically suspicious looks were cast all around, from the boys tangled in a bruised heap on the floor, to Jisung pulling off what was probably the best performance of his life looking utterly destroyed, to you as you did your best to look as guilty as you had been. To top it all off, Jisung quietly shook his head before silently retreating back upstairs. It was a scene straight from a drama. 

Seungmin came bounding down the stairs then, no doubt trying to find the cast and looking shocked at the scene he stumbled into. The boys all looked downtrodden, eyes shooting daggers as they untangled themselves and sulked back upstairs. Each of them caught your eye as they headed up, the small looks you caught ranging between bemusement to trepidation of if this would even work. Chan raised an eyebrow at you as he was finally able to grab his clothes. You were tempted to reach out, to try and tend to his nose still spilling blood, but he pulled away, seemingly in disgust as he gingerly pawed at it. 

“Holy shit,” Chan laughed quietly as he turned away from the camera, “I didn’t know they had it in them.”

The finale itself seemed like such small stakes after the brawl in the basement. All the boys had a quiet intensity to them, especially after the fit the production crew threw after they had shown up bruised and beaten. They refused to tell the staff what exactly they were fighting over, so now they just sat, bandaged and extra made up, while they waited to film. 

You had your own role to play, of course, the finale following some ridiculous plot where the ominous ‘headmaster’ had sent an inspector to expose a saboteur amongst their care staff. There was a chance for you, the chauffeur, and — of course — the cook to make your cases. You looked over all the boys as you stood before them, trying to decipher all their indecipherable looks. 

“I wish I didn’t have to prove my innocence to you,” you told them, and it was like the cameras and crew weren’t even there as you were all assembled in the dining room, “and I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt me or distrust me. I care for all of you.”

The line girl behind the camera was bewildered at your admission, entirely improvised from what was on the script, but the director waved to signal that you were alright. Each of the boys all seemed to soften, to relax a little for the rest of the scene. Chan had a guilty smile until it agitated his nose (which had apparently been dislocated and needed to be reset before filming, much to Hyunjin’s pride and chagrin.) Minho looked pleased, either with you or himself, while Changbin still looked a bit concerned and nervous. Hyunjin was just bored by now, his ideas of acting completely thrown into perspective by all this. Jisung was harder to pin, and you still felt ultimately responsible for whatever he was coping with. 

Obviously, the inspector spouted out a ton of exposition and off-screen reasoning before revealing the cook. Everyone looked the appropriate amount of scandalized before the cook was carted off by the inspector. The rest of the finale went just as smoothly, but felt so insignificant now. The boys looked humble and excited as they received their prizes and accolades, but everything was run through a filter. Did the staff see it like you did? The farewells after wrapping the show didn’t even feel final. Each embrace from them lingered, sharing meaningful looks that promised you would find them again, if only to make sure they got their cut. 

Felix arrived then, the red bruise on his cheek contrasting humorously with his blue suit. Seungmin, the other staff, and even the director gave him a previously unseen gravitas, greeting him and sucking up as if he were the Big Boss himself and not just his assistant. Felix curtly congratulated the cast for wrapping the show and offered them company cars for rides. Everyone exchanged glances before tersely declining. Felix nodded, understanding, and all five boys exited with looks back over their shoulders to you as they left you in the house. You heart thumped, almost in pain as you watched them go. 

The crew began to clear out as well, and soon it was just you and Felix, eyeing you suspiciously. The turnover was fast, a new crew rolling in right away  to set up. Jeongin cheerily greeted you before helping light the living room. Felix was still staring you down. You approached him warily. 

“Your face is going to get stuck like that,” you mused. 

“I can’t believe what I saw in the raw feed today,” he glowered. He waved over a gofer and asked them for a coffee before turning back to you. “You’re greedy, you know that?”

“You’re going to be fine, Felix,” you scoffed. Felix paused as a coffee was promptly placed in his hands and he regarded it, disgruntled.  

“I just have no clue what I’m going to do if I lose this job. I love my job.”

“Yeah, well,” you raised an eyebrow, “your job exploited some pretty great guys.”

Felix sighed, still gazing into his coffee cup. You took one step closer to him. 

“You were exploited, too, Felix. I’m sure you’re great at your job. Don’t waste it on these people.”

The sigh in Felix’s chest renewed. He hung his head before he finally looked at you again. “You look good, by the way.”

“I know,” you deadpanned.

You sauntered away in search of Jeongin, hoping he’d be the one with your pages and a breakdown of the finale. It was certainly less fanfare and a lot less setup than the boys’ finale had been. 

A host you’d never met before arrived and introduced himself, saying he loved working on your show as he shook your hand. Your finale was really an interview, where you got to pretend to be super proud of yourself and comment on the different cast members. The host’s questions were vacuous and no less exploitative than the rest of the show, and you spied Felix beyond the lights looking thoroughly miserable. 

Your finale felt meaningless as well, just another step towards washing your hands of this forever, and you were grateful when you wrapped and went to change. The only significant part of your farewell was seeing your bedroom emptied of your belongings. A soft footfall at the door alerted you and you turned, finding Felix there again. 

“I’m entirely on the wrong side, aren’t I?”

It wasn’t much of a question from him. You turned, now changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and a hoodie before you approached him. You set your luggage down, raising your hand to gently cup his face and careful to avoid the bruise Chan had slapped into him. 

“You’re on the wrong side,” you agreed, “but you can choose to be better. Maybe I’ll run into you again someday.”

“Maybe,” Felix nodded with a reluctant smirk. 

“Don’t stop being a fan, okay?” You grinned. Felix laughed before offering you a company car for a ride as he had with the boys. He wasn’t even offended as you laughed sarcastically and refused. You grabbed your bag and ascended the stairs. You walked into the living room. You walked into the foyer. You opened the front door. 

And you walked out onto the street. 

🎥🖤🎥🖤🎥🖤🎥

You picked a direction and walked. The house was only a block behind you, looming, when you found him. Chan sat atop his rolling luggage on the corner, flicking through his phone when he noticed you coming his way. He hopped off to greet you, only for you to breeze right past him down the sidewalk. Chan grabbed the handle of his bag and trotted after you. “Did everything go okay?” He asked as he kept up beside you. You nodded with a shrug. 

“Sure. Sorry I can’t talk long; I have to meet up with a friend.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” you nodded earnestly, “I need to return something of his.”

Chan watched curiously as you fished the pendant of his necklace out from under your hoodie where it hung. “Weird,” he smirked, “I had a necklace just like that.”

“Weird,” you agreed. “Who are you again?”

It was your turn to grin as Chan dramatically slapped his forehead. “Of course; I’m terrible with introductions.” He stopped you on the sidewalk and grabbed your hand in his to shake it. “I’m Chan, but my friends call me Duckie, and my really good friends call me Chris.”

You grinned as you shook his hand. “Ah, right, Chris. I thought you looked familiar. I have something that belongs to you.” 

Chan — Duckie — Chris — tried to restrain a bashful smile as you unclasped his necklace from around your neck and reached your hands up to clasp it around his. The moment it hung on him, his smile dropped. “I’m sorry again.”

“I know,” you nodded, “but you were there for me and I appreciate it.”

“I would do it all again if I had to,” Chris smiled softly. 

“What,” you mused, “take advantage of a sleazy production like this to run off with way more money than expected?”

Chris nodded heartily. “In a heartbeat.”

“Sure,” you giggled as you waved down a taxi, “and while we’re at it we can make our own show that’s actually worth watching.”

“I mean, I don’t see why not,” Chris retorted. He paused as he watched you load your bag into the taxi that pulled up to the curb. He looked like he missed you already as you pulled open the door and looked back at him. 

“Am I going to see you again?” He asked. 

“What a dumb question,” you laughed as you waved goodbye. “Call me next time you have to do some laundry.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #366

“you can’t take me from me”

If you’re a girl, have you ever had the urge shave your hair? No. Do you live by a forest? Not anymore. :( How old are your parents? Late 50s. What do you prefer: Small cars, hybrids, trucks or SUVs? Uh, I guess normal ones? Like the ones with four doors and not that horribly low to the ground. What’s the scariest book you’ve ever read? I've never read a book that was scary to me. Do your parents drink? Dad doesn't anymore, and Mom very rarely does, usually just for special occasions. Does downloading music without paying make you feel guilty? Yes, so idk why I still do it. .-. Do you have any pet fish? Nah. What’s your favorite seafood to eat? I only like shrimp. Does your house have air conditioning? Yes. Name the creepiest horror movie character for you: Ghostface, ever since I was a kid. I was horrified of him, and I still think his design is mega creepy. How many college degrees do you want? I wanted to get at most a Bachelor's (I never saw reason to go higher in the fields I was interested in, except for my brief wildlife biologist aspiration), but now I know I'm not getting any degrees. Do you like animals? I love animals. Have you ever written anything longer than 10 pages? Yes. What do you wear to sleep? Pj pants and a tank top. How many keys do you carry with you? One. Have you ever attended a professional sporting event? Yeah. Sometimes Dad and I would go to hockey games together. I don't really care for sports, hockey included, but it was still something we bonded over since I was normally in the living room on the laptop while he was watching it. Which do you value more, intellect or work ethic? Work ethic. Both are important, but I'd rather have a dedicated, worthy employee versus a lazy one that just happens to have brains. Have you ever been covered in mud? Yes, as a kid. Ever been to a cabin on a mountain? No, but omG I fucking wish. Ever lost your voice? Yes. Do you take your time when making an important decision? I take way too much time because I obsess over doing the right thing. Are you a cautious person? Very. Do you chew gum? Sometimes. What makeup product do you never use? A lot, really. Bronzer is literally never, I haven't touched blush in forever, and the same goes for foundation. Have you ever been offered drugs on the street? No. Have you ever seen a jellyfish? Only at aquariums. Do you ever put bread in your soup? UGH, NO. Bread should NOT be soggy. Do you want some soup? No, I don't even really like soup. Is there anything in the USB key slots in your computer/laptop? Yeah, the sensor thing for my wireless mouse. Did anyone ever draw on your face when you were sleeping? I don't believe so; I'd certainly feel it and wake up. Have you ever done that to someone else? Pretty sure no. Is there any TV show you watch religiously? No. Do you like the window seat or aisle seat on an airplane? WINDOW. I hate the aisle seat, mainly because I get dizzy when I can't see outside for some reason? I really don't know how that works, but when I sit at the window and can see what the plane is doing, I don't get dizzy. I also really want to just stare outside as I listen to my iPod. Has anyone ever really insulted you? Yes. Do you ever make banana sandwiches? I have a peanut butter and banana sandwich rarely. What’s your favorite movie soundtrack? Probably Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. Phil went HARD, y'all. Did your parents teach you how to cook/bake when you were growing up? There were rare occasions where I helped cook, but I never really learned. If you could own any three fictional objects from any book/movie/show, what would you choose? (does not have to all be from the same book/movie/show) Ohhh, interesting. I'm going to include games in this, because that's what I'm most informed in. ... And I'm still blanking. OH! Definitely a Dreamvisitor from Wings of Fire, as I think it'd be pretty cool or even useful to see into other's dreams and even communicate. The Obsidian Mirror from the same series would also be pretty cool, but also seems somewhat immoral to me, I guess, to be able to spy on others. I mean it could be useful in some cases, but still. I somehow can't think of a third one, even after expanding my options to games. A lot of game objects are just too specific to their fantasy universe and not helpful in real life. What’s the shortest amount of time you’ve worked somewhere? Not even two hours lmaoooo. Have you ever negotiated a pay raise? No. Have you ever been a victim of identity theft? No. Do you know anyone who’s had their kids taken by Child Protective Services? No. What is your favorite smell/scent? Cinnamon rolls. How long can you run without stopping? I honestly don't think I *could* run without my knees immediately being like "um excuse the fuck out of you" and crumpling. What age do you want to live to? I know this varies from person to person, so I can't say an exact age, but I do. NOT. Want to live to where I'm a liability/require other people to take care of me, like give me a bath and stuff. No. Fuck-ing. Thank you. If you had a time machine, when would you go to? I'd honestly want a glimpse into my future, just to see how I'll be. At the same time though, I feel like knowing would suck if I saw something bad instead of a good life. Like, I'd possibly be suicidal again if it's just crap. I feel like if I was legitimately offered this, I would say no. Have you ever been infatuated with someone and you didn’t even know why? No. I think. Have you ever felt an earthquake? No. Is your more photogenic side your left or right? Well, because of how my hair is positioned, my left side. My hair is parted very far to the left, so the right side of my face is sorta cut diagonally by hair. Do you currently owe money to anyone? No. If you were ever to be on the news, what would you want it to be for? Something heroic, I guess. What’s the fastest you’ve ever driven? Accidentally, probably up to like 80 on the highway. Have you ever donated blood? Have you ever done a blood test? I have to both. Have you been inside of a burning building? What happened? Z O I N K S no. Do you believe in astrology/horoscopes? Nope. Have you ever dined alone at a restaurant? No. Have you been in a car accident? What happened? Yes. Some idiot was carrying wood in the back of his truck, and it wasn't secured whatsoever. He hit a bumpy spot, and some of the wood dropped to the road, and he began to swerve out of control. Nailed the side and bumper of my mom's car. Mom drove into a ditch, but in some manner to avoid us flipping over, which judging from the impact point, cops theorized was "supposed" to happen. Nowadays I am terrified to ride or drive behind trucks carrying anything in the back. Have you ever lived alone? No. Have you ever been stung by a bee? Once, on my leg. Have you ever bought stuff at a thrift store? Yeah, I love thrift shops. What was your very first email address? The one I still use now, so I won't share it. It fits me well, but I still hate sharing it, haha. It's just not very "adult-ish." How often do you take naps? Just about every day. Have you ever won a game of pool? Idr. Have you ever seen a tornado in real life? NOOOOOOOOOOO. Have you been in a long-distance relationship? Yes. Have you swam in the ocean? Yeah, I love it. Have you gone ziplining? No, but it'd be cool! Have you been rock climbing? No, just those mock walls at school field days and stuff. Have you hitchhiked? No. Have you had stitches? Where? My chin and then at the very base of my spine. Have you ridden in a taxi? What about an Uber/Lyft? None of those. Have you ridden on a horse? Not legit, but at childhood festivals where there are some horses that walk in a circle... the poor things. I would LOVE to ride a non-restrained, tame horse. Ugh, I wish I could have a horse in general. Their ability to bond with humans is magical. I'll never actually have one, though. I could nooot do all the care they require, and I don't plan on living somewhere where having a horse is appropriate. Have you taken part in a protest? What for? No, just boycotting. Have you ever signed a petition? Yes. I can't remember all of them. Have you ever been fired from a job? Why? No. Have you ever given someone else a haircut? No. What is the longest your hair has been? Just past the small of my back. Have you ever been stranded because your car broke down? No. Thank god for phones, lol. Have you performed on stage? What did you do? Yes, for school band concerts as well as dance recitals. Have you ever used a tanning bed? What about tanning spray? No. How do you prefer to celebrate your birthday? Just quiet and chill with my family, but still give me alone time, please. Who is the best cook that you know? /shrug Do you believe in Bigfoot? What about the Loch Ness Monster? The Loch Ness Monster I don't, but I find surviving sasquatches very possible. There's just too many reported sightings to be totally ignored. I'm not 100% on them still being around, though. I feel like we would've caught one by now. Do your friends tend to be male or female? Female. If you could change anything about human nature, what would it be? Our proclivity to violence when angered. Have you ever fainted? Yes. What skills would you like to learn? Cooking, how to handle money in various contexts, social skills... There's a lot of things. What animal do you have the most possessions *of*, or featuring? Meerkats, for sure. If you smoke marijuana, what is your preferred or typical method? I don’t. Do you remain friends with anyone you met at your first job? No. Are there any flowers planted outside your house? No. Do you have a favourite outfit that you like to wear for nights out? I don't have "nights out." When you have a soft drink, do you prefer it in a bottle or can? I like cans because the metal helps it stay cold. Who was the last person to embarrass you? What did they do? I don't know. When you’re upset, do you tend to comfort eat or lose your appetite? I am a BAD comfort eater. Who was the last person to send you a message on Facebook? Does/did that person go to the same school as you? My online friend Sammy. No. Has a stranger ever offered to buy you a drink? No. When was the last time you used a public toilet? Ummm I think for my birthday lunch at The Cheesecake Factory. Who did you have your first kiss with? Do you remember what colour his/her eyes were? Jason has brown eyes. Are there any themes from TV shows that you like to sing along to? That '70s Show and especially Supernatural.

[new-ask-euroshipping]

Euroshipping Dragon

Setting: Old Palace AU

Rating: PG-13 probably

Plot: Ryou got kidnapped by mafia leader Taketa who found out about his powers and wanted to exploit him for it.

Notes: I don’t know if this is a side story or will get included much later in the plot. Since I don’t know, I’m sharing it here. This is an older document and maaay be a lil over-dramatic. Nonetheless, it was fun to write.

Ryou looked up from the floor. On the screen was Seto and Taketa standing face to face, dozens of meters apart in a wide open field. Taketa now wore a brown pinstripe suit while Seto was wearing the same outfit he wore back in Battle City. Both men were wearing outfits to exude superiority.

“What do you want, Taketa?” Seto asked.

“Oh, I just want to talk, boy. But mind what you say, your little boyfriend is watching our every word and move.”

“So that’s why you were so insistent on wearing these microphones.”

Taketa gestured to his left with his entire arm. “And of course the cameras are right there, in case you need to look at it for any reason.”

“Listen old man, I only came here because I was told I’d be given his location. Where is he and why do you have him?”

Ryou could hardly watch. There was an unhuman roaring in his head, almost making him unable to hear the TV.

“Well, you see, the world is changing, for better or worse.” Taketa looked at the camera as his hand crept to the gun on his left hip. He quickly pulled it out and pointed it at Seto, who tense in anticipation. He redirected his gaze at Seto. ��And some people have already changed for the better.”

“NO!” The roaring in his head became overwhelming as it gave him the worst headache he’s ever had. He shut his eyes from the pain. In a moment, it felt as if the cuffs holding his wrists had disappeared. He opened his eyes to check, yet he only saw black. He didn’t know what was happening but he hardly cared. He tried to feel around to sense which way to find and protect Seto, but he was slowly losing his gross motor skills, fine motor skills already lost. The process continued until he couldn’t control himself nor his protective rage any more.

Meanwhile, Seto glared at Taketa. “You shouldn’t point a gun if you aren’t willing to shoot.”

Taketa aimed the gun and pulled the trigger, grazing the teen’s right ear. “How’s that for unwilling? Besides, I don’t need to kill you. You’ve already done your part. You see, that Bakura boy is very powerful. Yet he rarely shows any of it to observers or me. What he does show is merely gravity manipulation. I can tell he has so much in him, all he needs is a reason to tap into it. And that reason was the threat of your safety.”

Something exploded from the side of the building followed by draconic roaring.

“Ah, and there he comes!”

As the dragon Ryou flew over, Seto almost mistook him for a Blue Eyes White Dragon. Though both dragons are white, the one Ryou took the shape of was more slender and had many more scales. As he came close, Seto could see the dragon’s eye color wasn’t like any other typical dragon. They were a deep brown. Then the realization struck him: this dragon is reflective of Ryou’s human body.

Dragon Ryou came much closer and landed right in front of Seto, towering to be two stories taller than him. He quickly pumps his wings, creating strong winds around Taketa.

Taketa spread out his arms in triumph. “Yes! This is what I wanted to see! You had so much untapped power! You only needed to get it all out!”

Dragon Ryou screamed at the man, shooting blinding white lightning in his direction, coming close to striking him.

“Whoa, be careful. Now,” Taketa pointed the gun at the dragon. “turn back to human or suffer.”

The dragon roared and went airborne.

“I see how it is!” Taketa shot the dragon in the neck but the bullet crushed and fell to the ground harmlessly.

Further provoked by this, the dragon snapped at the man, tearing the clothing on his right arm as well as cutting it some. Taketa shot the dragon multiple times.

“Ryou! Look at me!” Seto shouted. The dragon proceeded to strike again with blinding white lightning. The frenzied attack didn’t touch Taketa, though it came very close.

Seto readied his ice power. He looked for a good target on dragon Ryou. Then he found it: a spot in between two large scales on his underbelly.

“RYOU!” He shouted louder as he threw a gust of frost at the target.

Just then, Ryou could see through the dragon’s eyes. He shot his gaze around from wings to floor to claws.

Taketa noticed the difference in dragon Ryou’s behaviour and decided to take advantage of it. He took out a long-range communication device and pressed the button. “Get the people out here. Tell them to be ready for a large-scale recapture just in case.”

Seto had to shield his face from the wind to look up at dragon Ryou’s head. As the brown eyes turned to face him, he gave a look of confidence softened with care. “Ryou, it’s okay. I’m safe. You can calm down.”

Ryou landed on the ground. Seto walked up to him and hugged his face. Ryou gave a low draconic grumble.

“I’ve never seen you angry like that. It must’ve taken a lot to get to that point.”

Seto noticed Ryou’s dragon body shrinking, not stopping until Ryou was as tall as his normal self. Then his body started shifting back to the way it was, clothes and all, as Ryou cooled down.

“Seto, your ear.”

“Yeah, it got a little hurt, but it’ll be fine. It could’ve been much worse.”

Coming from the building were 4 men, all carrying two pig restrainers. Ryou turned around and saw them. His head hurt again.

“What’s wrong, Ryou?”

“Nothing, just give me a moment.” The boy proceeded to turn into a hydra, this time keeping control over himself. He shot fire at them, but they were quick. Next thing he knew, all five heads and three legs were caught. As almost a last resort, he melted his body to smoke. His smoky body dispersed throughout the area as the wisps of smoke slowly condensed around Seto, disappearing into his inner jacket pocket.

Once Seto saw the smoke disappear completely he bounded away from the scene. He activated his collar, contacting Isono’s wireless ear com. “Isono, I need a ride on Lotus Avenue as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Mr. Kaiba.”

Seto approached the forest which separated the field from the urban area. The forest was easily 150 feet. After he arrived in the urban area, he dropped his pace to a walk. Seto glanced over his shoulder. As far as he could tell, he’d lost them, at least for now. He checked his watch for the time. It was 13:56, it won’t be much longer before Ryou resumes his regular form.

He walked along the sidewalks until he found a low-lit alley with a vending machine. He entered the alley and reached into his pocket. When he took Ryou out, he saw he had taken the form of a Change of Heart card, which made Seto smile a little. He placed the card on the ground on the side of the machine opposite of the side facing the road. In a few minutes, Ryou was himself again.

“Seto, I’m sorry for all of that.” He lethargically curled up a bit.

“There’s no need to apologize. You were taken and used for another man’s needs. Taketa is the one in the wrong, not you. Regardless of that, how do you feel?”

“Tired and hungry. After doing all of that and taking 4 different forms, I’m exhausted.”

“I see. Isono is coming soon but against your back is a vending machine for the meantime. What would you like?”

“What are my options?”

“Many things. Flavored teas, coffee, and a few flavored milks.”

“How about milk?”

“Regular, strawberry milk, or coffee milk?”

“Strawberry milk.”

“Okay.” Seto put a few coins into the machine and the can dropped down below. He handed it to Ryou and sat next to him. “How were you able to turn into all those things?”

“Well, the last two I figured were just appropriate for the situation. Yet the dragon and hydra, I’d hear noise drowning out everything else and I just...become something else. I’m sorry for losing control. Taketa was the one in the wrong, but I still feel some guilt. I felt powerless and-” He felt a hand placed on his head.

“It’s alright. You were worried for me and wanted to protect me. When put under such stress, it’d be unreasonable to expect you to keep a level head and full control of one of your strongest powers.” Seto wrapped an arm around Ryou.

Ryou lazily opened the can of milk and sipped from it. “You’re right. Though, through the whole first part, all I felt was anger; anger that he would threaten you, anger that you could’ve been out of my life in a second, anger that I wasn’t there at the moment, all of it.”

“When was the last time you felt angry?”

He thought on it for a moment. “Probably when the spirit was going to use me to harm our gym teacher after I first transferred. But even that was more fear than anger.”

“You really don’t get mad?”

Ryou shook his head. “Is it okay if I fell asleep on you?”

“Absolutely.”

He closed his eyes and leaned against Seto. As per usual of his orange hours, he felt very warm. In a few minutes, a car pulled up.

Seto grabbed Ryou’s milk can, picked him up, and carried him to the car. He sat in the car himself, only saying to Isono, “To the manor.”

With only a nod in reply, Isono drove off.

[unending-happiness]

Hi, I've got a question out of nowhere! I was looking to re-read a story And When You Soar that was on my AO3 bookmark list and it's apparently not there anymore! I think it was your story? Can I ask what happened to it? If it's indeed the story I remember, I loved it!

Hi! Oh wow. It’s definitely my story! I’m smiling so big because you want to reread it. So…..as for what happened to it, I got a little overwhelmed with all my responsibilities in real life and how little time I had for writing. All my wips just felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders, because no matter how much I wanted to finish them I just didn’t think I’d ever have time. And I also felt so guilty about leaving them for so long without updates and letting readers down. So, I deleted all my wips from AO3 and vowed to only post them again when they were complete on my end (except for editing) and I could update them on a regular schedule. And When You Soar was supposed to be a relatively quick story, but then, as stories do, it took on a life of it’s own and there ended up being way more to it than I originally thought, so it got pulled too. 

I’m actually in the middle of writing a long one-shot right now that’s fairly close to being sent to my beta. I don’t know what’s wrong with my writing brain right now, but I get huge bursts of inspiration for something new, then it fades, and rinse and repeat. Super unhelpful. 

Now, the good news is, I’ve found myself at the very beginning of a period of being off work and quarantined at home because of this delightful pandemic we’re all experiencing, so I’m going to attack my wips with intensity and AWYS has a very good chance of getting finished soon and back up on ao3. Honestly, thank you so much for this ask because I wasn’t sure what wip from my list to work on after the one I’m finishing now, and you’ve made the decision easy for me. Thank you so much, lovely human! To hold you over until I post it again………

And When You Soar-Chapter 1

Alec ducked his head and stepped through the door and into the plane. He stopped when the elderly woman in front of him came to a standstill and looked around, transferring his suitcase to his other hand. He acknowledged the flight attendant standing to his left with his usual tight smile.

“Welcome aboard,” she greeted him, flashing him a bigger smile of her own.

“Thanks,” Alec answered her before his attention shifted to the open door just past her. A tall pilot standing just inside the flight cabin nodded at him and then turned his attention to who Alec assumed was his co-pilot. Always curious, Alec leaned to the side to see more of the other pilot, but his view into the small space was almost completely obstructed by the large man

“Sir,” the woman said to get his attention again.

He looked over at her and saw that she was motioning for him to move along into the cabin. He realized that the people in front of him had moved forward and he was holding up the line. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, as if talking at a normal volume would cause further disturbance.

She just smiled at him sweetly again, and then turned her attention to whoever was behind him. Alec shifted his suitcase so that he could fit down the aisle, and focussed on finding his seat without taking out the tiny woman in front of him. He located his row near the back of the plane and saw that his seatmates hadn’t yet boarded, so he quickly stowed his bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in the aisle seat. 

Normally, Alec loved being tall. He never needed a step stool, he had always been chosen first for basketball teams in high-school gym class, and he could see over everyone’s head in a crowd. It also made intimidating people fairly effortless, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Being tall was almost always a perk, but he found that flights were one of the few glaring exceptions. 

He always sprang for first class when he had to be on a plane for more than a few hours, but his sister’s last-minute plans had him booking the only available seat on the only available flight that would fit into his demanding schedule. He barely had time to get a workout in and grab a quick shower before his Uber pulled up. He was feeling very lucky that he at least got an aisle seat, and even so, there simply wasn’t going to be a position that would make his legs happy. It was going to be a long night and his only hope would be to fall asleep, which was unlikely, as he found it especially difficult to do in crowded places.

He grabbed his phone and earbuds out of his backpack and put it under the seat in front of him, barely leaving enough room to squeeze his black Nikes in there. When he glanced back up, he could see that there was a young man and woman waiting patiently for him to get up so they could take the seats next to him. He quickly stood and moved to the side. The man eyed him up and down suspiciously and then quickly changed positions with who Alec could only assume was his girlfriend so that he would be sitting next to Alec instead of her. Alec barely contained an eye roll. Heterosexuals. He gave them plenty of space while they got settled and then gingerly lowered himself back into his seat, already regretting going so hard in the gym that morning as his thighs still protested from yesterday’s workout. He would feel it doubly tomorrow. 

He went through the process of checking and returning messages on his phone. He handled a few work emails and then touched base with his family. He answered a text from Izzy.

 Did you make your flight?

Barely

That’s the spirit. See you soon. 😘

If by “soon” you mean in 9 hours, then yes, that.

Grouchy…..You got stuck in economy again didn’t you? Such a diva.

Next time you come up with some grand scheme, I’m going to need you to think of my legs.

Promise, but I’m sure you could use your powers of persuasion to get yourself into first class. 😎😍

You’re confusing me with you, again

Oh, Alec. Try not to have too much fun.😂 We’ll pick you up at the airport.

Hey, I know how to have fun.  

And by “we”, do you mean…..

Simon and I. I wouldn’t bring mom or dad. I’m not that mean.☹️

I have plenty of scars that suggest otherwise, but I’ll see you in 9 short hours.

Love you, big brother

Love you, too.

 The perky flight attendant had started her safety speech, which was thankfully straight to the point and not one of those lame ones trying to make everyone laugh. Alec fastened his seatbelt across his black joggers and logged into the airline’s Wi-Fi. He put his phone on airplane mode as soon as he was connected. He glanced over at his seatmates to see the man was huddled up next to his companion and they were chatting quietly and giggling. He didn’t think he had to worry about them trying to talk to him, but he stuck a wireless earbud in that ear anyway just to be sure. He scanned the rest of the passengers within view of him and tried to settle comfortably in his seat when he decided that everything was as it should be.

The pilot he had seen when he boarded the plane came out a few moments later and did the standard pre-flight announcement. Captain Garroway had a deep and booming voice, so Alec clearly heard the weather and their destination all the way from his seat in the back of the plane.

He busied himself with scrolling through his playlist to distract himself during take off. He wasn’t a nervous flyer, but the knowledge that nearly all plane crashes happened during ascent and descent kept him from really relaxing until they were fully up in the air. Being out of control in any situation went against every fiber of his being, and he just had to work through it. He spread his legs a little, pushing his knees all the way against the seatback in front of him, praying that the person wouldn’t want to recline their seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. 

The plane had just hit cruise height, the most nerve wracking part over, and he was listening to a conversation between a mother and child in front of him when his phone buzzed in his lap.

Alec swiped down his notifications and pulled his eyebrows together when he saw what app the push notification had come from. Of all times to get a message from someone on Grindr, this one had to be the weirdest. He hadn’t even had an account for twenty-four hours yet, only having downloaded it late the night before out of boredom. His sister had joked recently that he needed to “Meet someone on Grindr or something to let off some steam”, and despite everything in his being telling him he wouldn’t be happy with such a thing, he had done it anyway. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had listened to her, because he had no interest in hooking up with a random guy just because he was within so many feet of him. There was actually someone he had something really casual with, but it had been a while since he’d seen him. So, he could probably chalk this horrible lapse in decision making up to being frustrated and horny. Still, he had no intention of using the app, not really.

He thought about dismissing the message without reading it, almost laughing at the thought of having sex with some random stranger in the tiny plane bathroom, when it hit him that the message actually had to be from someone currently on the plane with him. That thought had him sitting up straighter and looking around him as inconspicuous as possible. He didn’t see anyone staring at him, but still, like the truly paranoid person he was, he turned down the brightness on his screen so the people around him would be less likely to see what he was doing. Hesitantly, he opened the message.

It was from someone called “CoyNotCryptic” and the icon wasn’t a person, but instead was an aerial photo of a city he didn’t recognize. Oh-kayyy, that wasn’t going to tell him anything. He looked around the cabin again and then read the message.

 I see you’re on my flight.  Enjoy the ride to Rome.

 Alec stared at the words in disbelief. What are the chances? He quickly tried to figure out who this mystery messenger could be. A fellow passenger? The app informed him that it was someone ninety feet away, which would have to be someone toward the front of the plane. A passenger in first class maybe? Alec looked up at the flight attendants suspiciously. Both were women and he didn’t see a third, but that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t another one there. First class sometimes had their own attendant. Thoroughly flustered, he turned off his screen and laid it face down in his lap again, still eyeing the people around him and the front of the cabin.

He made it an impressive five minutes before he unlocked his phone and pulled up the message thread. He clicked on the mystery person’s profile. 

All he learned from that was that the guy was 3O ish years old, 5’11”, 175lbs, Bi, and Single. Seemed intriguing enough, but a picture definitely would have been extremely helpful. Fucking Grindr. This was why he didn’t want to mess with it in the first place. He wasn’t going to answer it. Absolutely not. What would he even say? What if the person was a total creep and it was a disaster for the entire eight-hour flight?

Just a few minutes later, bored and antsy, he decided that it was going to bother him if he didn’t at least find out who it was. Oh, what the hell , he thought, and typed out a message.

 The chances of this happening have to be a million to one, right?

 He tapped his foot nervously while he waited the fifteen seconds for an answer to come.

 I’m not privy to the exact statistics, but it doesn’t happen very often, in my professional experience. Does this mean you’re one in a million?

 Alec swallowed a laugh. The wording of the message made him feel more like it was someone working on the flight. That was probably less risky than a random passenger. More than a little intrigued, he typed a reply.

 By that logic, you would be one in a million, also. 

Oh, I definitely am.

How self-aware of you.

Self-aware and humble.

And….working right now??

Yes, although it doesn’t feel like work at the moment.

Because I’m distracting you?

Don’t get ahead of yourself.  It could be the 40-ton jet I’m flying. -MB

 Alec nearly dropped his damn phone and he was ninety percent sure he said, “No way,” out loud instead of in his head. The pilot!! The pilot was messaging him on Grindr. What the actual hell had Izzy gotten him into?! He had the passing thought that maybe it was somebody else on the plane fucking with him, and he looked around for about the tenth time. And MB? Most definitely not the initials of Garroway, the pilot he saw before. Must’ve been the pilot he hadn’t been able to get a good look at when he boarded.

He didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole of thought, because just then a voice filled the cabin. This one was very different than Captain Garroway’s and it got Alec’s full attention, to say the least.

“Good evening, lovely passengers, this is Captain Bane speaking.”

This voice sent a shiver down his spine and made every nerve ending wake up and take notice. It was a voice of pure silk that made Alec think of skin on skin, of dark passionate nights, of hushed whispers between sloppy kisses.

He was absolutely reeling at the realization that “MB” from Grindr was also Captain Bane, the pilot of this airplane, a man whose voice alone stimulated every cell in Alec’s body. He was thoroughly fucked for the duration of this flight and he couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad about it.

“We are now cruising along at an altitude of 30,000 feet. You may use any larger electronic devices you have at this time, on airplane mode, of course. I’m very good at what I do, but I’d prefer a smooth and easy ride tonight.”

Alec pursed his lips to contain his disbelieving laugh, his eyes wide.

“Please also feel free to take your seatbelt off if you need to move around the cabin, but be sure to put it back on anytime you’re in your seat. This is just a precaution in case of unexpected turbulence, or in the event I jerk my stick a little too hard.”

The passengers around him chuckled at the joke, but Alec thought that there was no possible way in hell any of them could be as affected by those words as he was. This was an unbelievable turn of events.

“My darling flight attendants will be doing drink service soon, and I’d like to ask you to be patient and enjoy whatever quenches your thirst. Please exercise self-control, though, as this is a long flight for all of us. Also, just a reminder that any long arms or long legs that are taking up aisle space, are most definitely at risk of being taken out by Clary and her cart, and need to be tucked safely in your seat. Thank you very much and enjoy the ride to Rome.”

This man. Holy. Fucking. Shit. He needed a drink from Clary and her cart ASAP.

He stared at his phone and that last message. It was clearly his move now, and considering how buzzed he was from the announcements alone, he wanted to make it a good one. He decided he very much wanted to play this game.

 Aren’t there rules about texting and flying? 

You are in very capable hands. I wasn’t joking when I said I’m good at what I do.

In all seriousness though, my co-pilot is doing all the heavy lifting at the moment, but if this makes you nervous, I’ll stop. I like to keep my customers happy.

Don’t stop.

I’m not worried.

Good. Tell me something?

Ask away.

What takes you to Rome?

My little sister’s impromptu wedding.

Scandalous. Have you met her other half?

Oh, yeah. They’ve been together for a while. The engagement isn’t that surprising, and, really, the quick wedding isn’t either if you know my family. She’s avoiding a lot of drama. I can’t really blame her.

Ah, family drama, ever delightful.

Unfortunately there’s no shortage of it with mine. 

How long are you staying in Rome for the wedding? 

Just a few days. 

It’s an absolutely beautiful city. I can make some recommendations if you’d like……

That would be great.

 Perky red rolled up to him with her cart, pulling his focus away from the conversation. He reluctantly placed the phone face down on his tray and tried to not look impatient as he got his wallet with his card out of his bag. She asked the couple next to him what they wanted, and Alec dutifully passed a soda and a red wine over. She ignored his debit card and poured a whiskey on the rocks, probably the most expensive they had on board, and handed it over to him. His confusion must have shown on his face because she winked at him and pointed to the front of the plane. It took a couple seconds for him to get it and then he glanced to his side to be sure the people next to him weren’t paying attention.

“Oh, uh, thanks,“ he whispered, and immediately felt like a moron.

“No problem. If you need anything else at all, just let me know. I’ll be back around for meal orders in just a little bit.”

Alec took a big sip of his drink. It was easily twice the size of the drinks you normally received on a plane and he felt a little guilty that he hadn’t even paid for it. He resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone had noticed his special treatment.

He checked his phone as soon as he felt relaxed from the warmth that had burned its way down his chest. There were no new messages, but he decided that sending him a drink was a pretty loud and clear message of its own and he started typing.

 So, now you are flying a plane, texting, AND buying me a drink?! Show off.

Is that a thank you?

Of course. How did you even know where I was sitting?

Well, you see, there are these things called ‘Flight Manifests’ and pilots receive one for every flight.  Although I must admit I’ve never found one quite as useful as I do now. 

By the way, who uses their real name for a Grindr profile??

People who want their pilots to send them free booze.

Ah. Well, your grand scheme is working out quite nicely then, I’d say.

Seriously though, thank you for the drink. 

You’re most welcome, Alexander. (So useful, that manifest)

Nobody calls me that except for my mother when she’s angry with me. 

Would you rather I not?

No….you can. 

Good, because I’m fond of it. 

Speaking of things I’m fond of, Clary tells me that your "longest legs ever” have no business at all being in coach.

Ah, well, you can blame my sister and her last minute plans for that. 

Wait, do you have everyone spying on me?!

Not everyone, just Clary, I suppose. Though, to be fair, she mentioned your legs before I had her bring you a drink.  Seems “tall, dark, and handsome” appeals to all genders.

I’m going to need more alcohol if you’re going to keep saying things like that. 

I’ll let Clary know the gorgeous man with mile long legs in C36 needs another drink soon.

I’m actually blushing.

I’d give my Louis luggage to see that for myself. 

I don’t do selfies.

Really? Not even for the man who tried to get you a seat in First class? 

It was all booked. I checked. 

Yes, it is. But I tried to offer someone top shelf alcohol for the duration of the flight to switch with you. 

YOU DIDN’T. Please tell me you didn’t. 

Doesn’t matter. It didn’t work anyway. Please pass my apologies onto your legs. 

No.

No?

No. If you have a message for my legs, you’ll have to deliver it yourself. 

Do you really think it’s wise to cause a rise in the heart rate of the pilot who is flying your plane?

My bad. Pass my apologies onto your heart?

If I have to deliver messages in person, then you do as well. 

Can you put the pedal to the floor? Get us on the ground any faster?

Do you know anything at all about airplanes?

No, but you could teach me.

With pleasure. 

Lkkdfskhdkhsdfkhd.

 Did he really send a keysmash? He did. He did that, as eloquent as ever. Slightly mortified, he waited to be teased for it. When no message came through, he checked his Wi-Fi connection, then his watch, and finally scrolled through his playlist and chose some music, trying to busy himself with something other than shamelessly flirting with the man currently keeping them alive way above the surface of the earth. He was probably very busy at the moment and Alec had to get a grip, especially since they were only an hour and a half into the flight. 

By the time the dinner cart went through an hour later, Alec had returned a few more emails, done his budget for the month, organized all the photos in his gallery, and archived all the files on his phone that he didn’t need anymore. He also might have checked Grindr for new messages about twenty times, so he was more than a little ready for that second drink. 

This time the other attendant came through, the one with the darker skin and curly hair. She was just as helpful and nice as Clary, but much less hyper, and Alec found that she had a way about her that he liked. With a knowing smile she served him up the same drink as before. She didn’t even try to tell him where it came from, which he appreciated, because at this point he was more than a little self conscious that the entire staff seemed to know the pilot was sending him things. 

She took his dinner order and returned twenty minutes later with what could only amount to two standard airline meals and yet another glass of amber liquid. This one was smaller and accompanied by a bottle of water. He didn’t miss how she took his credit card and made herself look busy, before handing it back without actually swiping it. He gave her a genuine smile, very much appreciating her discretion and she patted his shoulder as she went by. 

He usually didn’t like to be touched by people, let alone strangers, reserving his physical affection for his family alone. Maybe it was the alcohol warming his veins or the fact that he was currently being lavished with gifts, but he found that the small touch made him happy.

Eventually, he was relaxed enough that he felt like he may actually be able to sleep, but he still declined a pillow and blanket when they came through passing them out to everyone. There was no way he was going to be able to get that comfortable around this many strangers. He made a quick trip to the restroom and stopped in the aisle to stretch his legs and torso as much as he could in the tight space, before regrettably sliding back into his seat. He knocked back the last bit of his drink and followed it with the water, before sliding his tray back up and settling in. His phone buzzed on his leg.

 How was dinner?

Pretty good, actually. I think I owe you a few hundred dollars at this point.

Nonsense, it was my pleasure.  

Thank you. 

Is it sad that this is probably better than any date I’ve ever had? 

That’s only because you haven’t been on a proper date with me ; )

Or because I’m bad at the whole dating thing. (Did you just winky face me?)

I think, given the right company, you’d do better than you think. (Yes, yes I did.)

Hah. A high compliment.

How about this for a compliment…….You really need to warn my staff before you go stretching in the aisle, again. Nobody benefits from a passed out crew.

Who told you about that?

Oh, just a little conversation between Clary and Maia.

Ugh. 

I like Maia. 

AND DON’T YOU HAVE A PLANE TO FLY?!

Shhhhhhhhh. I’m a professional, remember?

And I figured you would. She likes you, too.

Nobody likes me.

That’s very much not true. I happen to have it on good authority that just a small little sliver of your stomach can cause an impressive stir.

Please stop.

Are you blushing again?

I’m not sending you a selfie.

What if I pout?

Don’t do that. I’ll be forced to take one and then I’ll die of embarrassment. Nobody needs that. 

*Sighs* I rather like you living, so I’ll give you a pass this time.

So generous.

You have no idea how generous I can be.

You can’t just keep saying things like that to me.

Why not? I’m just trying to give you “sweet dreams” material.

That might be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.

Did it make you smile?

Maybe……

Yes.

Good. Regrettably, I have to go do the heavy lifting now. I’ll leave you to sleep.

Sleep. Sure. Easy. No problem.

Goodnight, Alexander.

 Surprisingly, sleep came easier than he ever could have imagined it would, given the situation, which made him thankful for the food, booze, and the exhaustion that came with being up for almost twenty-four hours straight. He drifted off replaying the messages from Captain Bane in his head over and over and a relaxed smile on his face.

Alec woke with a start when the man in his row slid their window shade all the way up. He squinted against the bright sun, a clear indication that he slept longer than just a few hours. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to blink the sleep from them. When he looked around he saw that a few people were still sleeping, but most were awake and talking quietly, with various drinks and snacks. It seemed he had slept through the beverage cart and probably some announcements, and he imagined that they had to be pretty close to landing in Rome.

He hit his knee on something and looked down to see that someone had lowered his tray and placed a lidded cup of coffee, a bottle of water and a blueberry muffin on it. That’s when it all came back to him. He scrambled around in his lap to find his phone, dropping it on the floor in his haste. He leaned down in the tight space to get it and hit his head on the seatback in front of him. “Shit!” 

He glanced at his seatmates and said a quick, “Sorry,” for cursing and causing a ruckus, but didn’t pay attention to them long enough to see their reactions. He had much better things to do.

He managed to fish his phone off the floor and quickly straightened, sliding down his notifications with impressive speed and selecting the one he wanted.

 Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.  If you need anything else, let me know.

Alec grinned and took a big gulp of his coffee before replying. He needed to wake up fast.

You are a gift, you know that?

Does that mean you’re going to eagerly unwrap me?

It’s too early for sentences like that.

It’s never too early for sentences like that.

How long until we land?

An hour and seventeen minutes.

Aren’t you getting tired?

I’m used to it, darling. Don’t worry about me.

 Darling. He actively tried to keep a stupid smile from taking over his face. An hour. An hour until he exited this plane…..through the front of the plane. The front of the plane where this man currently was. Fuck. He needed a lot more coffee, a toothbrush, and a mirror STAT. He looked down at his crumpled t-shirt and jogging pants and swore under his breath. Truthfully, Alec wasn’t even sure he would be seeing him in person when they landed. He hadn’t seen him when they boarded, and so maybe it would be a repeat of that. That thought was too disappointing for him though, so he pushed it away and set about righting himself, just in case.

He drank his coffee down as quickly as he could without burning his mouth. Then he wrapped his muffin up in the package and put it in his backpack, knowing there was no way his nervous early morning stomach would tolerate it. He grabbed his toiletry bag and rushed to the bathroom before the imminent announcement that they had to stay in their seats.

Once he was folded in the cramped space, he brushed his teeth and thanked God for his recent haircut in preparation for the wedding. He spent a few minutes mussing his hair up with his fingers and a bit of water before deciding it was about as good as it was going to get. He ran his hand over his face and decided the scruff there wasn’t too bad, not bad enough to shave in an airplane bathroom, at least.

He started to stretch and then abruptly stopped, self-conscious that people would notice and he’d be the subject of mile-high gossip once again. He returned to his seat feeling a bit more human and a lot more nervous.

Clary came walking down the aisle with purpose, smiled way too brightly at him for 7 a.m. and handed him a folded up slip of paper. He hesitantly took it with a polite, “Thanks,” and immediately opened it and read the elegant script.

Meet me up front, if you want , after everyone else has deplaned. 

~M.

If you want. He wasn’t sure he had ever wanted anything so much in his life.

Captain Garroway came over the intercom to let them know they were beginning their descent and Alec didn’t comprehend any of it. He put his seatbelt on when others around him did and  tried to stop bouncing his leg nervously. Maybe he had a little too much coffee.

Ten minutes later they landed in Rome without incident, and Alec unbuckled his seatbelt and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Why the hell was he so nervous? He watched as the other passengers gathered their belongings and exited at an agonizingly slow pace. Twice he got up and helped someone get a bag out of the compartment to hurry the process along. He tried really fucking hard to not compare the man across from him to a sloth, like a total asshole. Finally, when it got to his row he stood up and let the man and woman go by him. 

Once they had their stuff gathered, the woman unexpectedly turned to Alec and said, “I just have to know, are you some kind of celebrity or something?” 

Alec balked.

The man with her looked shocked as he nudged her. “Jules!”

She shrugged. “What? It’s kind of obvious.” She turned back to Alec. “Which movies are you in?”

Alec huffed out a laugh, “What? No…” 

He was relieved when her boyfriend tugged her along even if he was kind of amused at the last disbelieving look she shot him.

The last few rows went by without any more accusations of stardom, which Alec was very grateful for, and then Clary passed by him last, with a wink and a little wave. He groaned out loud and didn’t even feel bad for it. 

There was movement at the front of the plane from the crew and he forced himself to not focus on any of it, but instead he pulled his suitcase out of the overhead bin and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He started walking.

It all became too real when he saw Clary and Maia exit the plane behind the passengers. That wasn’t normal, was it? That definitely wasn’t normal. Jesus Christ, his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He got to first class and the other pilot, Garroway, was standing there in front of the cockpit door, his bag in hand. He shot Alec a smug, crooked smile and left the plane without a word. 

And then there he stood.

There he stood looking way more beautiful than anyone who had been working all night had any right to. His eyes were bright and kohl-rimmed, his features strong and beautiful even as he nervously rubbed the fingers of his left hand together. He really was a kind of perfect that Alec hadn’t even realized existed. He wanted to devour him.

Alec watched, a little stunned, as he stepped forward. Then, he tilted his head up in a challenge and parted his lips, and that was all it took. 

Alec abandoned his luggage right there in the aisle and went to him. He reached out with both hands, pressing one hand to his hip and grabbing his shirt with the other, pulling him into him. He kissed him hard, already drowning in the scent of him, the feel of him. 

They started stumbling backward, and Alec realized that he was throwing his weight around too much, but fucking hell, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even think as he pressed their lips together over and over. He wanted it hard and fast, soft and slow, any and every way he could have him.

They stumbled through the door and into the back of the captain’s chair with an “oomph” and Alec opened his eyes briefly to drink him in.

 “Alec,” he said, his breath hot on Alec’s lips, eyes still closed.

“Magnus,” Alec said, stepping into him even more, closing the tiniest bit of space that was left between them. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Magnus opened his eyes and smiled at him. “Yes, I can feel that,” he said, rolling his hips against Alec’s.

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Alec said, his voice gruff.

Magnus slid a hand between them, “Oh, this isn’t just anything,” he said, rubbing fingers down Alec’s length through his pants. He curled them under the waistband and tugged, causing Alec to go from half-hard to fully erect in no time flat. “I like these pants…….a lot.”

Alec rubbed circles on Magnus’ ribcage with his thumb to distract himself so he could manage to speak a coherent sentence. “They’re perfect for long flights.”

He nearly whimpered when Magnus retracted his hand, but somehow still managed to narrow his eyes at him. “Speaking of long flights,” he said, “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

Magnus smiled at him. “Oh, really? Whatever did I do?”

At that moment he realized how much he had missed that. His smile, his cunning wit, the elegance with which he spoke, his humor. All of it. He had missed all of Magnus. Desperately. He couldn’t believe he even considered the notion that anyone he met on a hookup app would be enough.

He stepped back a little bit, trying to be serious, but he didn’t remove his hands from Magnus’ waist, because he wasn’t planning on going far, maybe ever. “Well, you were in the city where I live and you didn’t even call me,” he accused, trying not to sound too desperate and probably failing miserably.

Magnus’ eyes twinkled with mischief, which should have prepared Alec for what came next, but before he knew it Magnus had changed their positions, and Alec was being pushed back against the chair, with Magnus pressing up against him, chest to hip. He leaned in and whispered in Alec’s ear, “Mmmmmm, well, if you needed me to dick you down, all you had to do was say something.” He nibbled gently at his earlobe and Alec almost forgot how to move air.

Fucking hell, if that didn’t make him damn near want to beg. “This is me saying something.”

Magnus kissed his neck ever so lightly, which sent shivers all the way down his body. “Hmmmm, what exactly are you saying, darling?”

“Magnus,” he said, exasperated and damn near floating with desire. Or lack of oxygen. Probably both.

“Alexander,” he practically purred back.

That was the first time Alec had ever heard him say his full name and he hoped it wasn’t even close to the last time. He actually fucking whimpered, and that was when he decided this wasn’t the time to be stubborn. “I need you to dick me down,” he admitted, snaking a hand up and grabbing Magnus’ hair. He pulled his head back and away from his neck to get back some control, instead kissing him deeply, sliding his tongue into his mouth and languidly tasting him. 

Magnus moaned into his mouth and returned the kiss with equal intensity, before pulling away to answer him, grinding their hips together once more for good measure.

“With pleasure, if you promise to put that beautiful mouth of yours to good use.”

Alec’s whole body was singing at that promise. “Deal.” He looked around, thinking of logistics for all the things they were about to do, and then he was snapped back into the reality of exactly where they were.

“You’re a pilot,” he said, matter of fact, even if a little breathless.

“I am.” Magnus smiled. “Are you impressed?”

“Very, but what else is new?” Alec answered.

Magnus laughed, “I have to admit this is turning out most favorable for me as well.”

Alec looked around, “How long before you have to fly out again?” 

Magnus said, “A couple of days…ish.”

“Ish?” Alec asked.

“That’s what I said.”

“Can you come to my hotel later?” Alec asked.

Magnus bit his bottom lip, then grinned. “You aren’t even a little tempted to do it right here, Alec? It is a Cock-pit, after all. It’s right there in the name,” he whispered.

Alec smiled, “Wow.” Honestly, fuck him for being so sexy while delivering such outrageous lines.

Magnus laughed deeply, and Alec ran a large hand down his chest and pulled his shirt down to kiss what he could of his collar bone. “Believe me, I’m very, very tempted, but I want to get you completely naked, lay you out on a bed, and take my time with you. I’ve had enough of cramped spaces for a while.”

“How could I possibly argue with that logic?” Magnus asked.

“You can’t,” Alec said.

“Text me your hotel information and give me a couple of hours?” Magnus asked.

The “couple of hours” part had him rethinking the whole “fucking in the cockpit of this plane” business, but he pushed away from Magnus with Herculean effort and placed one last and lingering kiss to his lips. 

Alec forced himself to go back into the plane to collect his belongings, feeling Magnus’ eyes on him the whole way. When he passed by him again, Magnus was leaning against the door, a knowing smirk on his face. 

Alec gestured to Magnus’ uniform. “Are you going to be wearing this when you stop by?” He couldn’t resist asking.

Magnus’ eyes crinkled with his smile. “Ooh, does someone have a kink?” 

“Says the man who’s obsessed with my legs,” he countered, grinning back.

Magnus laughed, and Alec thought that it might very well be the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “Get out of my airplane, Alexander.”

[scaredofchange]

For the Life of Me (Ben Hardy)

Pairing: Four (Ben Hardy) x Reader

Word count: 2048

Warnings: guns, near-death experience, death, and a little mention of “not wanting to fight for your life anymore” (I don’t know how to call that, so…)

A/N: Really just wrote this for fun, so if you want more, let me know!

Summary: Small town girl meets the threat of her life... and then the snacc of her life. *wink wink* 

 _______________________________________________________________

You had been living in this small town your whole life. Nothing exciting was ever happening in this shithole and all you had ever wanted was to get out of there, but responsibilities and, well, the lack of money, kept you from doing so.

The day a drug cartel moved next door, everything changed. People became scared, others blew a gasket and rioted and some got into some deep criminal shit. You kept going about your days, working in a small café, attending online college classes, business classes to be exact, and living in a crappy apartment, but the town’s vibe was different. Every time you heard the bell of the café’s door ring, your heart skipped a beat. Some days, you got a few cartel members, grabbing a bite for fun, others, the same guys would claim the money you were obliged to pay them for protection, just like the rest of the business in town.

You became aware of their grasp growing onto neighbors cities, but nobody was strong, or willing, enough to stop it. Local police was in on it, and there was absolutely no way that you could get a federal agency to get interested in your small insignificant lives.

On a certain morning, you woke up to the news of a collective murder: a little family that owned a farm and refused to pay the cartel. Dead because they didn’t believe in violence, what a sweet irony.

A few years later, the cartel had become the most influential group in half of the country, which meant you were even more powerless.

June was just starting off. On a Sunday afternoon, you baked a batch of muffins at the café when an unknown voice interrupted you.

           “Hi, could I get a coffee, black.” Said the man, looking around him.

You nodded and plastered a fake smile on your face.

           “Sure, name?”

He looked at you through his sunglasses, which he took off a second later. His brown irises were locked with your blue ones. With a dainty smile, but a serious tone and an even more intimidating look, he replied.

           “One. Just put One.”

A little taken aback, you didn’t reply, but you still wrote the name on the cup. He slid a twenty across the counter.

           “Keep the change…” he started, his eyes looking for something. “Y/N.”

You nervously played with your name tag as you agreed with a soft nod and a “thanks”.

You busied yourself with the stranger’s coffee, wondering why your hands were trembling that much. You knew he wasn't part of the cartel, or at least, you had never seen him before. You poured the hot liquid in the mug and topped it with a plastic lid. The man had sat down at a table, waiting for his order. You decided to bring it to him.

           “Thank you, darling.”

It was his only answer before he brought his phone to his ear and started talking. You tried your best not to listen, but some words came around your ears, like a bunch of numbers, such as “two”, “four” and “three”.

The man stayed put for about an hour before stepping up. He came back to the counter.

“Listen, Y/N…” He started, a grave glint in his eyes. “If I were you, I’d go back home, right now.”

Startled by his words, your eyes widened.

           “Excuse me?”

With a sigh, he put his hand on the counter, conveying much more than just intimidation at that point. You knew he was not joking.

           “Some shit is about to go down, and you don’t want to be here for it, you understand?”

A long silence followed. The gears in your brain tried to piece things together. You slowly nodded, comprehending the meaning of his words. He put back his sunglasses on and left the café without another word.

You told your superior you weren’t feeling good and as usual, he just shrugged and let you go home. You quickly changed in the bathroom and wandered on the streets. A part of you really wanted to see what was about to happen, but another was scared shitless.

           “Shit, my phone!” You cried out, realizing you had forgotten your precious at work.

Was it really worth it, though? You figured you had the time to get it back and run home after… you were oh-so wrong.

You turned the corner back to the café and automatically noticed three black SUVs in the middle of the street. You could see rifle assaults from where you stood. You completely froze, you knew exactly who they were: the cartel. What you didn’t know was that the owners of the café had refused to pay them last time they came around, and now it was time to set an example for the rest of the town.

           “She works there!” Screamed someone from behind one of the cars. “Get her!”

It took a few seconds before you caught that they were talking about you. Without thinking about it twice, you turned around and started running. You tossed your backpack down on the side way, its weight definitely slowing you down.

God, you were glad, at that moment, that you had ditched your work shoes for your usual Adidas sneakers. You turned in an alley, knowing all the nooks and crannies of this shitty ass town. You didn’t think anymore, you were simply acting under the adrenaline.

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed a shadow jumped from a roof to another on top of you. Who the fuck was that? Did they hire ninjas nowadays?

But you didn’t have time for questions, you also saw a few men on your tail, closing in. Out of breath, you found yourself in front of a locked gate.

“Shit! Since when do they fucking lock it?” You found the time to say, your throat dry and your legs shaking.

You tried your best to climb it, but it was all in vain: you could not do it. You cursed the Gods or whoever was up there until you felt a near presence behind you.

           “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll stop and come with us.” Said a deep, hoarse voice.

As you turned around, you counted three men, all much bigger and stronger than you, and they had guns. One was pointed right at your chest. You knew you had no other choice than following them back to the café. But what would they do to you then? Torture you in front of the owners to get their money? Or worse, kill you?

You started to wonder if your life was really worth all that trouble… What had you achieved in all these twenty-three years? Nothing. And you probably never would.

You closed your eyes, gathering your courage to run up that fence, or at least try, but before you could do it…

           “That’s no way to talk to a lady.”

A voice came from above you. You and the three men looked up: a man was standing on the fire escape from the building next to you. He was pointing a gun directly at your enemies. He had a black hoodie, a few strands of blond hair falling out of it and, as much as you could see them, bright blue/green eyes.

“One versus three, boy.” Retorted the criminal to your, perhaps, savior, a disgusting look of satisfaction creeping on his face.

The blond smiled when a red dot appeared on the first man’s chest, it wasn’t coming from his gun. Somebody else was around.

“Try two.” Your savior replied. “And I don’t think you want to test how quick my friend is with a sniper.”

The three men looked at each other, clearly stroked with fear. You’d hoped they would’ve stood down, but instead they puffed their chests, like douchebags in a club trying to impress brainless thots.

           “As you wish.” Said your savior with a thick British accent you hadn’t noticed until now.

A few seconds, barely a breath later, the blond shot one of the cartel man who was standing in the back as the front one fell to his knees, a bullet lodged into his heart. The last one started to lift his gun towards you, but it was too late, he fell to the ground a moment later, dead. You sensed the large sniper bullet pierced the air next to you, but you didn’t move.

           “Nice shot, Seven!” Screamed the blue-eyed man excitedly.

He jumped down for the fire exit’s stairs and landed right in front of you. He was slightly taller than you. After landing on his feet and hands, he stood back up. You could feel your gaze examine every inch of him, but you rapidly took control back, or at least bit of control back.

“I’ll take care of her.” He said as you noticed the wireless communication device around his neck. “Go help the rest.”

You supposed he was talking to the sharpshooter, but your brain couldn’t comprehend much anymore. How to deal with stress was not one of your forte.

The man took a step closer, provoking you to take one back almost immediately. He stopped, suddenly aware of how scared you were. He lifted his hands in the air, his gun already back in his thigh holster.

           “I’m not gonna hurt you. I swear.” He stated, his eyes locking with yours.

Somehow, you believed him. Perhaps it was because he had just risked his own life to save yours.

“What’s your name?” He inquired, taking another step forward, a small smirk appearing in his face when he noticed you hadn’t moved that time.

           “Y/N” you replied, your voice trembling.

           “All right, Y/N. I’m Four.” He admitted, putting his hands back down.

Confused, you shook your head.

           “Four? You’re with the guy from the café right? Uh… O-One?”

He nodded.

“We’re not the bad guys here, Y/N. Now, I just want to put you back on your way home, okay? So you don’t get hurt.”

“But… th-they saw me! They know… know that I work there and that I saw… They’re going to… You don’t understand!” You exclaimed, panic washing over you.

Finally, he stepped even closer to you. He laid his hands on your shoulders and pressed softly.

           “Once we’re done here, there won’t be anybody left to hurt you, Y/N.”

Coming to a realization, you felt your shoulders slumped down. You didn’t agree with violence, even more with unnecessary acts of violence, but this time… this time it was different. Everything was different. The man before you did not seem like a bad guy, on the contrary, for a brief moment, all you wanted was to fall in his arms.

           “I’m not sure I can walk straight…” you admitted, blush hugging your livid cheeks.

With that said, the man started to think: you could see it by the way he frowned and looked around.

“Okay, Y/N. How about you wait in there?” He said, opening a side door to a little shop you knew well. “And I’ll come and get you when everything’s done?”

With hesitation, you looked between your savior and the ajar door. He clearly felt your uneasiness since he lifted his right hand in the air and offered you his pinky finger.

           “I swear.”

You couldn’t help the giggle from coming out of your throat.

           “Really? A pinky promise?” You chuckled, your eyes searching his.

Four smiled, a truly beautiful smile. A smile that could brighten anyone’s days.

           “Like that, you know it’s the real shit.” He stated, lifting his eyebrows.

You sighed, but in the end, you lifted your own hand and took his pinky in yours. Even if only for a brief moment, you could almost feel the warmth of his skin making you feel slightly better.

He lingered a bit longer than necessary, you didn’t know if it was because he wanted to reassure you, or simply because him too was stuck in a state of both confusion and inner turmoil.

           “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll be back for you.”

Those were his last words before he closed the door in front of you. You heard a few steps from above and then… all there was left to do was hope.

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia - Chapter 67: Island Insanity Intensifies

Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here

“Ah!” Tensei Iida exclaimed, gesturing wildly at the display before them.  “A most ingenious device.”

Toshi gave it a second look. He’d glanced at it briefly, but had been busy listening to Sora and Dave discuss the punch-enhancing gauntlets they’d seen at the previous booth and hadn’t been paying a lot of attention.  So far, he didn’t use any Support equipment himself, though he had a few ideas for some new bits for his costume he’d thought of after the Final Exam.  But if one of the twins thought something was well designed, it was probably worth paying attention to.  His girlfriend and her brother were two of the smartest people he knew, somehow managing to be in the Hero Course and still having time to take Support course classes as well.

Speaking of girlfriends, the device had now caught Sora’s attention as well.  She was, in fact, practically drooling over it.  “Oh, yes,” she agreed.  “This is quite spectacular!”

Toshi considered himself relatively smart.  He was probably wasn’t in the top fourth of the class, but close enough.  But when it came to advanced stuff like this, he didn’t have a clue.  It just looked like a silvery helmet with a dark visor to him, connected by wires to some kind of power source.  Before he could ask any questions though, Sero piped in.

“So, what’s it do?” Sero asked.  “Because I don’t know if that’s going to work with my aesthetic.”   Considering Sero had once said he’d purposefully bought a bowling shirt because the colors gave him a headache, Toshi wasn’t exactly sure what his aesthetic was and how anything could clash with it.

“Oh, it would be very useful,” Tensei explained.  “It combines several different scanners from across the electromagnetic spectrum into one device.  This should enable its wearer to view everything from the infra-red all the way to the ultraviolet end of the spectrum.  Very useful for locating Villains, even if they have stealth Quirks!”

“I do have concerns about the power source, though,” Sora added, further scrutinizing the device. “It would have to be properly armored and those wires could be easily grabbed.  And, of course, if pierced, the detonation could be rather significant…”

“Definite significant,” Sero said.

“You would not require cremation,” Sora told him, matter-of-factly.

“Still,” Tensei went on, “I do see possibilities.  I wonder though, if it would be better to house such power sources externally? Somewhere where they would not endanger the user?”

“A drone, perhaps?” Sora questioned.  “That way its power source could be properly armored, and then you would only need a wireless transmission to a visual source, such as a visor or other display…”

“Yes!” Tensei agreed. “Though the power supply needed to see the entirety of the spectrum would…”

Toshi lost track of the conversation at that point, not having the head for the engineering or scientific principles behind it.  If it ever got to gravity or some basic physics, then he was on pretty good ground. Otherwise…

“Got us a couple of smart ones, didn’t we?” Sero said, after a moment, giving Toshi a conspiratorial look. He grinned.  “I have no idea what they’re saying.”

“Then why do you look so happy about it?” Dave asked.  Once again, his patience for Sero’s actions was wearing thin, Toshi could tell.  “Don’t tell me you’re celebrating your ignorance.”

“Nah,” Sero said.  “I just like seeing Tensei get all happy about something.  He’s cute when he’s pontificating.”

Toshi had to admit, Sero had a point.  He thought the same thing about Sora.  Her eyes just lit up when she got passionate about something she was working on, even if he couldn’t follow it.

Mercifully, it didn’t take too long for the twins to wind down though, and by the sounds of it, they’d come up with yet another project for when they were able to access to a lab again. He was sure he’d hear more about it later.  He was probably going to have to remind them to eat and sleep in the near future.

“You two might want to consider a limited A.I.,” Dave said.  “Otherwise, it’s of limited utility.  If you have to keep manual control, then you’re going to be distracted focusing on that.  With an A.I., you can give it a target to follow or a patrol route.”

“Dave’s got a point,” Toshi agreed.  Not surprising.  Dave was both a star of the Support Department and had grown up with a Hero dad and older siblings.  It gave him a unique insight into the way in which the two met up.

“He does indeed,” Sora agreed.  

Tensei nodded.  “More difficult then.  And not our specialty.  Would you care to collaborate, Togata?”

Dave shrugged.  “So long as Power Loader signs off on it. Last time I checked, you two were on his shit list.”

“Very unfairly!” Tensei declared, arms flailing.

Sora joined in the protest, her own arms flailing as well.  How they managed not to hit each other, Toshi didn’t know.  “Just because we occasionally cause small explosions is no reason to restrict our lab access!  You would think he would understand that explosions are merely learning opportunities!”

This got a laugh from Sero and Dave, who looked at each other in surprise.  Both shrugged and then the group peeled off to look at the next exhibit.

“Oh, speaking of opportunities,” Sero told Dave, “Kimmie made me promise I’d ask if you were seeing anybody.  Because if not, she’s actually got some people lined up.”

Dave just shook his head. “I swear, you’re all as bad as Dad….”

***

“I can’t believe you know Godzillo,” Isamu told Togata, carefully carrying the signed statue in a small bag.  He’d mentioned wanting to get the retired Hero and actor’s autograph and Togata had insisted on introducing him.  Kana was going to flip out when she saw this.

“Dad and Uncle Izuku teamed up with him back when I was just a kid,” Togata explained.  “They got along real well, I guess.  Of course, Dad gets along with everybody…”  He laughed.  “But yeah, I figured I could convince him to do a gratis autograph if I asked.”

Isamu just shook his head. “I appreciate it though!  Kana’s going to love this!”

“Kana?” Togata asked, inclining his head slightly.

“My, ah, girlfriend,” Isamu said.  It still felt weird to be able to say that.  The notion that any girl might like him, let alone one who could probably kick his ass six ways to Sunday, was still a surprising one to him.  Though he also wasn’t entirely sure if her parents knew. He’d mentioned Kana to his, to his mom’s particular delight. On the other hand, she hadn’t formally introduced him yet to her mother, despite her mom being a teacher at U.A..  So he wasn’t sure what was going on there.  He wasn’t going to put too much thought into it. Considering she’d been the one to ask him out, he was relatively sure she wasn’t embarrassed by him or anything like that.  “Kana Tetsutetsu.”

“Battle-Fist and Real Steel’s daughter?” Togata asked.  He nodded slightly.  “Saw her at the Sports Festival. Uncle Izuku likes to have everybody working under him watch, get our opinions, see the upcoming Heroes. She’s pretty talented.”

“She is,” Isamu agreed. He wasn’t sure how well he’d have stacked up to her martial arts skills or ability to guard against attacks.  

They passed a few stalls selling various Hero merchandise, including one with a man with floppy once-dark now-grey hair and glasses glasses, who seemed to be selling copies of some kind of book.   Isamu looked up at the banner on top of the stall.  Taneo Tokuda – Author of When the Symbol of Hope Was Young –Soon to be a Major Motion Picture!

Isamu recognized the name and the title; there was a copy of it in his house.  It had been in publication for years, though originally it had been titled When the New Symbol of Peace Was Young.  It had retitled after a few years, when Deku had adopted the different and more fitting title.  It was still one of the top selling books, annually.  

The man—Tokuda, he now recognized from the author picture—shot up at the sight of them. “Tamaki Togata,” the man said, beaming. “As I live and breathe!  It’s been too long!”

“Not since the last time you interviewed Uncle Izuku for your script, Mister Tokuda,” Togata said. “I still can’t believe they’re finally turning your book into a movie.”

Tokuda laughed.  “You, me, and my bank account.  And I’ve told you, call me Taneo.  All my friends do.”   He gave Isamu an appraising look.  “Ah!  I know you! From the Sports Festival. Haimawari, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Isamu said.

Tokuda seemed to give him an appraising look.   “Oh yeah,” he said.  “I can see why Deku took you on.”   He pointed towards Togata.  “Both of you. You’ve got the same kind of spark. Takes me back to the first time I met him, really.”  He peered at them over the top of his glasses.

Not that he didn’t appreciate the comparison (He was, however, not going to think about it too hard, because down that path lay panic), but Isamu wasn’t entirely sure he was comfortable with the scrutiny the man was giving him.

A smile did work its way onto Togata’s face, though.  “You can turn that investigator mode off, Taneo.  He’s here on vacation, same as me.”

Tokuda’s face fell just a little, but he pushed his glasses back up and smiled amiably. “So no chance of an interview about everything going on back home?”

“Top secret,” Togata told him.

Tokuda laughed.  “Ah, well, can’t blame a guy for trying.   Still, expecting big things from both of you, so promise me an interview whenever you go Pro?  I know we’re going to see big things from you, Togata.  Just call it a hunch. ”

“Ah, sure?” Isamu said, uncertainly.  Deku taking an interest in him was one thing, but a reporter/writer as well?  One who’d done an official biography of Deku?  What exactly was his life?

“You’re going to be waiting a while,” Togata said.  He didn’t actually answer the question, Isamu noted.  “He’s just a first year student and I want a few more years working with the best under my belt.”

Tokuda shrugged, smiling easily.  “I’ve got time.  But let me know if you want to come on set sometime.  They start filming in a couple months and I’m sure I can get some passes.”

That might be fun, Isamu thought, though he figured Tokuda was probably talking more to Togata than him.

“We’ll see,” Togata said. “Nice to see you, Taneo.”

As they were walking away, Isamu turned to Togata.  “Everything all right there?  Guy seemed a little, ah, intense?”

Togata just smiled and shook his head.  “Tokuda’s a good guy.  Probably nobody out there who’s a bigger fan of Uncle Izuku than him, actually. …Well, maybe not bigger than the Shinso kid.  He just really believes in what Uncle Izuku means as a symbol.  But he can’t quite stop looking forward or turn off that reporter’s instinct, so he’s always looking for the next story, whether it’s there or not.  His instincts are usually on the money though.”

“Great,” Isamu sighed. “One more person expecting big stuff out of me.”

“I told you,” Togata said. “Don’t worry about that.  Focus on your training and being the best you can be. You’ve got time.”

***

Melissa had already studied the hologram in front of them numerous times.  Hell, she’s studied the real thing.  She’d been up to her elbows in it, even.  Working together with Mei and the best forensic analysts at both Deku’s agency and that the HPSC could spare, they’d taken all of the robot-Nomu apart one piece at a time and studied every inch of every one of them.  

That their secrets continued to elude them was nothing short of infuriating.  The combination of enhanced technology and bio-augmentation suggested an expertise in multiple fields of science.  Who had that level of knowledge and expertise?

Jinsei rubbed his chin with his hand.  “The same design, every time.  These were definitely mass produced.   Nothing identifying to any of the parts either.”

Melissa nodded. “There’d been some technology thefts in the weeks prior to the attack, but none of the Heroes were able to find any leads, even with the Voice and Glamour hitting the streets and shaking down just about every source.”  She tapped a few keys and called the list up.  “Not nearly enough to account for all of this… unless you only needed a handful to take apart as a model.”

He nodded his agreement. “Very sophisticated robotics. You can see certain systems here and there that are extrapolations of current theories and designs though.  I can see some of the technology from U.A.’s robots, there’s Shield tech, and I even see a few of Hatsume’s designs.  And…”

Nothing they didn’t already know.  Whoever had built them was well versed in current technology, no matter how proprietary. But the facial journey Jinsei was undergoing was something else entirely.

Jinsei frowned, his face flush with anger in a way that made his scars stand out even more.  “Those bastards.”  He slammed his hands on the console, causing the hologram to briefly flicker.  “Those bastards!   How!?”

“What? Melissa asked. She’d jumped at his outburst and paused to readjust her glasses.  “What is it?” She’s seen Jinsei get angry before, especially after…  But the pure rage she was seeing here was stunning.

He tapped keys, bringing up a hologram next to the one of the Nomu.  With more tapping, he isolated what they’d identified as the Nomu’s power source.  Melissa let out a soft gasp.  The two were identical.

“That’s the power source for the robots I’ve been designing,” Jinsei said.  “The ones I consulted you about.  The ones that were going to…”

He trailed off. Melissa had listened to his arguments about the failures of Heroes often enough to know where he’d been going with it. That they took too much on and that too much was expected of them.  That they were worked to exhaustion and made mistakes.  His idea to replace or supplement them with robots who didn’t get tired or have bad judgement was well meaning, even if she knew it wasn’t possible. The level of A.I. just wasn’t there yet, among other things.  

“That was Ami’s design,” he growled, head down, body shaking with rage.  “Back when we were just designing the robots to support the Heroes. Before…”

His head snapped up. “Those bastards stole her design!”

Melissa blinked her eyes slowly, then set her face in grim determination.  Jinsei needed goals and directions now, if he was ever going to come out of this state and not spiral into self-destructiveness.  “Who else would have had access to the plans?  Do you think there was a data breach?”

Jinsei started pacing, quick frantic steps back and forth.  “My lab assistants.  The board. A few others I’ve had to consult with. You.”

She jerked in surprise. “You can’t possibly think…!”

He shook his head rapidly. “No, not you, never you.  I trust you, Melissa.  I’m just…  my life’s work… turned into part of those monsters.  I wanted to help. And something I designed nearly killed so many…”

Melissa placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.  “Hey,” she said quietly.  “It’s another clue.  We’re going to get this figured out.”

***

They were working their way through the crowd to meet back up with Midoriya and the others when Togata suddenly stopped.  “Everything okay?” Isamu asked.

“I don’t know,” Togata said. He looked around, scanning the crowd. In an instant, his body language had changed, moving from relaxed and at ease to alert and ready for action.  Isamu had heard that the really good Heroes had a certain kind of instinct, the kind that came from years of dealing with trouble. Supposedly, they could tell when trouble was coming practically before it even started.

Tamaki Togata was only a Sidekick.  But he was the Sidekick to the greatest Hero on the planet and had worked with many more. It wasn’t surprising that his instincts would already be finely honed.

Isamu straightened up, looking around as well.  If Togata thought there was something worth getting ready for, there probably was. Even if he couldn’t see it.  All he could see were people milling about, going from stand to stall to booth.  People were snapping pictures, signing autographs, showing off their Quirks. It seemed about as non-threatening as was possible to get, his early feelings of being overwhelmed notwithstanding.

He forced himself to listen, to look around for signs of trouble.  Isamu didn’t have super-human senses.  He wasn’t an even an expert at listening like Shoji.  But his Quirk did demand that he be observant and react quickly. If he wasn’t, he’d have ended up a smear on a wall the second something came up that he couldn’t maneuver around when he was sliding.

There.

It was distant, but he could hear the sound of screams now.  They were growing louder and getting closer by the moment.  The crowd was parting now, trying to run away from whatever it was.

Togata was already taking off, heading towards the source of it, a blur of motion.  He should have stayed where he was.  Even with the super-relaxed Quirk-use laws on I-Island, he was still just a Hero student.  No license, barely a term into his studies.  Absolutely no one would have blamed him if he’d just stayed where he was.

Instead, his body moved on his own. He pitched forward and fired a burst of power from his Quirk, his autographed statue left behind without a thought, sliding through the crowd and around the fleeing Expo guests.  Just ahead, he could still see Togata, faintly glowing with power as he darted through the crowd.  

It didn’t take long to see what was going on.  Already, a number of booths and stalls had been completely trashed.  It didn’t look like anybody was injured, but that wasn’t likely to last long.  At the center of the destruction were several people—he assumed they were civilians because they weren’t in costume—all swathed in a bright orange glow.  One seemed to have some kind of fire Quirk, one was a giant rhino man, and the other was woman lobbing blobs of sticky goo.

There was no coordination in their attacks, just seemingly random destruction.

“Get away!  Get away!” the fire-wielder, said, letting loose a stream of crimson flames.  They didn’t look all that hot; he couldn’t even feel the heat from this close.  “You can’t have my liver!  I’m using it!”

“Scorpions!” the rhino man shouted, charged and smashing everything in his path.  “Covered in scorpions!  Get ‘em off me!  Get ‘em off me!”

The woman was spraying goo everywhere, her eyes wide in panic.  “Clowns!” she screamed.  “Not clowns! Anything but clowns!”

Togata seemed to sense his arrival.  “Haimawari?” he said, not turning to look.  “Stay back.  This looks dangerous.”

Another Hero arrived on the scene, but not one that Isamu recognized.  He was wearing a black costume, with boots, gloves, trucks, and a cape all the dark grey of approaching storm clouds.  A square-ish lightning bolt symbol adorned his chest. “<Don’t worry,>” the Hero said, in what he realized was English, “<Thunderhead will stop them!”>

The Hero—Thunderhead—brought his hands out to the side and then slammed them together, hard.  It created a powerful boom that sounded like a clap of thunder, sending a wave of sound out from his hands.  It struck the rhino man dead on but did little more than knock him back for a second.  

The rhino man eyed him, his tiny, dark eyes widening in fear.  “More scorpions!” he shouted, his voice laced with fear.  “Gotta stop them before they can sting me!”  The rhino man struck out, hitting Thunderhead hard enough to send him flying.

When Thunderhead got up, he was glowing.  The exact same orange glow as the others.  There was a madness in his eyes, one that was clearly driving his actions now.  “They’re all against me!  They think I’m an idiot!  Well I’ll show them!”

Thunderhead brought his hands together, unleashing another wave of force.  But Togata moved, his own body aglow in green light and he placed himself right in the line of fire.  The wave of force rocked against him, but he was not moved.  Not for nothing was his Hero name the Shield.

“Whatever it is that’s driving them crazy,” Togata said, “it’s contagious!”

Togata drew back a punch. “Dammit,” he hissed, “no time to be subtle about it!”  He threw the punch forward, glowing brighter as he amped up his density.  The force of the blow itself was enough to push the air forward, a powerful gust that knocked Thunderhead down for a moment, still aglow with orange light.

Which still left the other three.  If they touched anyone else…  Isamu quickly began to realize that following might not have been the best idea.

“Do not worry,” a voice shouted, “I am here to render assistance!”   Isamu looked to the source and found that it was Ingenium:  Tenya Iida, the twins’ father.  He was clad in his armor and running at full speed.

“Roller skate clowns?!” the goo-throwing woman shrieked.  She tossed blobs of her goo, but Ingenium dodged every one.  But then he got close…

“Ingenium!” Togata shouted. “Look out!  Don’t let them touch you!”

But it was too late. The woman’s fingers brushed against Ingenium’s armor, even as he dodged out of the way of her attack.

That was all it took.  Ingenium skidded to a stop, turning on a dime.  And by the time he had finished, he too, was glowing orange. Isamu couldn’t see the man’s expression behind his helmet, but he got the feeling that it wasn’t one he would have wanted to ever see.

Ingenium readied himself to run again.  “Back for more, eh, Stain?  You’ll not find me a careless child now!”

There was a roar like a jet engine as Ingenium fired his Recipro-Burst.

***

Rei lowered her binoculars and grinned.  “Looks like the guy we sprung is doing his job.”   Unlike the other “voluntary detainees” under I-Island, Setsushi had been stored in a tube, constantly sedated.  His Quirk took the form of a communicable madness, making whoever was infected with it hallucinate heavily, bringing their worst fears or other delusions to life. And once someone was infected, they could pass it on to others.   All it took was a touch, didn’t even have to be skin to skin contact.  Ursa had had to design very special gloves for the two of them to wear to be able to get him up to the surface and let him loose in the expo. Didn’t even need any real prompting. Just had to let him stagger around and bump into a few people.

Perched on one of the island’s towers, in the blind spot between cameras, they had a very excellent view of the chaos below.

Miss Compress lowered her own binoculars.  “Barely twenty minutes since we dropped him off, and he’s already infected more than a dozen people, including a few Heroes.  Everyone else is running or panicking.  Quite the catastrophe we’ve engineered, dahling.”

Rei did, ultimately, feel just a little guilty about that.  She did have family down there, after all.  Not close family, but her little rocket-powered cousins-in-law were still part of the crowd.  At least it wasn’t her actual cousins or anybody like that.  Sometimes, you did have to break a few eggs.  

“How long did the boss say this was supposed to last?” she asked Compress.

Her companion pulled a pocket watch from her coat pocket and examined it.  “Infection in any given person is supposed to last no more than thirty minutes and no less than five, depending upon individual resistance factors.  But reinfection is possible, so depending upon how many people it spreads through once it starts hitting the crowds…  Possibly forever.  Or at least until they all beat themselves senseless or worse.”

Compress replaced the watch in her pocket.  “Quite the show.  You don’t think our dear leader is going too far, do you?”

Rei shrugged. Compress was, she knew, more in it for the thrill of it all, the chance to pull one over on Hero society.  That it aligned with their leader’s overall goals of showing the cracks in Hero society and destroying it worked out well, but she didn’t have quite the same lust for battle that some of the other members did.

As far as Rei was concerned, it could all go burn.  Any society that let monsters like her grandfather live, even humiliated and in exile, didn’t deserve to stick around.  

“Still,” Compress went on, “one more straw for the proverbial camel’s back, I suppose.  And I can’t say I’m disappointed to see Ingenium down there.”  Ingenium, Rei recalled, had ultimately been responsible for the capture of her mentor, Mister Compress.  He’d been the last of the original League of Villains to be captured, staying free for years after the others had been captured or killed.  Small wonder she bore him some enmity.

Rei’s communicator beeped and she checked it.  “We’d better get going.  Overdrive just sent the exit confirmation.  She’s meeting us at the docks in twenty.”  Her tongue slid over her lips.  There was bound to be plenty of blood by the end of the day.  “Shame we gotta run so fast.  It was just getting’ interesting.  You got still got the sample?”

Compress patted one of her coat pockets and nodded.  “Of course, dahling.  And don’t worry.  I’m sure our benefactor will have plenty of video we can watch later.”

***

Ka-Pow!

The blue-white energy bolt hit Ingenium squarely in the middle of his forehead.  There wasn’t a lot of power behind it, but when combined with the Turbo Hero’s speed, it was like running head first into a throw fastball. Isamu looked at his hand as though he was seeing it for the first time.  Had he really done that?  Had he actually just assaulted a Pro-Hero, the Number Six ranked Hero at that?

He wondered if you could get expelled for that kind of thing.

Togata turned his head to look at him.  “Good job!” he said, flashing him a brief thumbs up.  But worry immediately replaced the cheer on his face.  “This isn’t good.  Whatever this is, it’s spreading fast and spreading by touch by the looks of it.”

Isamu’s thoughts quickly went to Midoriya and the others, and then to the countless others on the island. Even with more Pro-Heroes than you could shake a stick at, it wouldn’t take much for this to spread and spread quickly.  He didn’t even know if it would wear off.  Ingenium was down, but still glowing.  

The other infected were leaving them alone for the moment, but still causing plenty of trouble, lost in their own personal madness.  But it was only a matter of time before someone was seriously hurt.

“Probably shouldn’t do this,” Togata said, “but I know Uncle Izuku has faith in you.  So I’m deputizing you until this is all over.  So you can use your Quirk to fight. Just don’t get killed, okay?”

Isamu nodded, even as his heart was thudding in his chest.  “Okay,” he said.  “What… what do we do?”

Togata shook his head. “Try to keep people from killing each other, try to find the cause of this, work with as many Pros who’ve managed to avoid catching this as we can.  See if anyone’s made a call for help.  Whatever else happens, we can’t let this get off the island.”   Worry strained his voice.  Isamu knew his family was somewhere on the island now too. Togata’s younger brother, David, would probably be with Midoriya and the others, so he was about as safe as could be. But he had no idea where Doctor Shield or Togata’s older sister, Nejire, were.  Nejire Togata was, at least, a third year U.A. student and one of the Big Three.  Her phasing Quirk would probably keep her safe.  

People counting on them. The whole island in danger.  His friends missing.  Some kind of insanity that was spread by touch.  And he’d just shot Ingenium in the head.  It was all too much.  Isamu could fell himself start to shake and he bent at the waist, hands on his knees to keep himself from falling over.  This was supposed to have just been a vacation.  Not… whatever this had become.  He was barely sixteen.  How the hell was he supposed to cope with all of this?

He became aware of a hand on his shoulder.  Togata. “Look,” he said, “I know this is overwhelming.  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared too.  But right now, we’ve got to get moving.  Every second counts.”

Isamu straightened up. He pulled his goggles down over his eyes and his bandana up to cover his nose and mouth.  All round now, he could hear the sounds of screams, of Heroes calling out attacks and telling people to head for shelter, and the sounds of all kinds of Quirks going off.  It definitely wasn’t the time to be worrying.  It was a time for action.  “Can I have a panic attack later?”

“We all can.”

***

The sound of screams split the air.  The kind of raw, panicked screams you heard when there was serious trouble afoot. Takuma’s eyes darted around and he could see that Midoriya, Sora, and Tensei were all doing the same.  They might only have been first-year students, but all of them were the children of Pro-Heroes.  Long before they entered U.A., their parents had been teaching them how to look out for themselves.

His parents were lower-ranked than some of his friends, but both still well within the top one hundred. He knew for a fact that there had been more than a few kidnapping attempts on the children of higher ranked Heroes, the twins and Midoriya among them.  The adults didn’t talk about those much, but from what little he’d been able to gather, it hadn’t gone particularly well for any of the would-be kidnappers.   Kaminari had once joked about it, suggesting that anyone who had kidnapped Kirishima-Bakugo would have brought her back almost immediately.  But even now, on the road to becoming Heroes themselves, vigilance was a must.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see David Togata moving to the back of their group. Probably smart.  Togata didn’t have Hero training or even a combat-oriented Quirk.  It sounded like the screams were coming from outside though…

“Maybe… maybe it’s nothing,” Takuma ventured carefully.  He didn’t really believe it, but…

“I don’t think so,” Midoriya said.  The crowd around them in the Expo building had frozen, waiting for the next shoe to drop. A few people he recognized as Pro-Heroes were making their way towards the front of the show floor.  

“But who would dare dream of causing trouble here, with so many Heroes present?” Tensei asked.

“It has been dared before, little brother,” Sora said.  “You’ve heard Father tell the story often enough.”

CRASH!

With a terrible sound, a chunk of wall came tumbling down, sending people fleeing and crushing several booths and pieces of Support equipment on display.  And through the hole stepped a purple-haired man in a military-stylized uniform with a peaked cap.  An orange glow surrounded him, as well as the blobs of flesh floating in the air around him.

“That’s Sisicross!” Midoriya exclaimed.  “But why’s he glowing?”

Sisicross looked across the show floor and sneered.  “Trying to surround me, eh, Villains?!  You’ll not find this son of Shiketsu so easily beaten!  Come at me!  I’ll take you all on!”  With his hands held behind his back, he clicked his heels and send the fleshy blobs flying into the crowd.   Each time they stuck someone, that person went down, transforming with a painful sound into a fleshy-blob.  Takuma gulped and fought the urge to be sick. And worse still, the blobs themselves were glowing the same orange.  He saw one man try to pick up the blob that had been his companion and the glow spread to him.  

The man let out a scream, dropped his friend, and unleashed his Quirk, firing sharp Quills from his body. Most of these missed, but a few stuck people, spreading the orange glow even further.  They started freaking out too, talking about perceived threats and other nonsense.

It was, in a word, madness.

A swarm of fleshy missiles headed straight towards them.   “Move!” Midoriya shouted.

They hadn’t planned on it, but not for nothing were they Hero-trainees and friends.  The twins rocketed into the air, Sora grabbing onto Midoriya’s hand while Tensei grabbed Togata.  Takuma fired off a strip of his Acid Tape and gave a hard yank, reeling himself upward towards the ceiling.  The flesh missiles hit where they had been seconds earlier, splattering against the floor with a sick, wet sound.  

“Too close,” Takuma muttered.  They touched down at the far end of the room.  The chaos was only getting worse, with people succumbing to the orange glow or panicking trying to get out.

“Let’s not do that again,” Togata said.  He looked vaguely ill from the sudden acceleration, to say nothing of the danger they’d been in.

“What do we do, Toshi?” Sora asked.

Midoriya looked pale. “I… don’t know.”

[reformedkingsmanagent]

Happy V-Day Anniversary...

A/N: I’m sorry, I know this is a painful day for a special few of us, so here’s my gift to you. Be warned, it’s gratuitously fluffy and probably doesn’t make a whole lot of sense now that I think about it but I’ve done too much for it to delete it now. Also smut. Happy Valentine’s Day, I love you guys, and I hope regardless of what your plans are that your day goes as smoothly as possible.

Warning: smut (sorry, not used to the citrus fruit scale?? feels weird to call it something else. thanks tumblr.)

It was everywhere. He couldn’t set foot outside his flat without hearing about it. The ‘terrible Valentine Massacre,’ an event experienced by practically the whole world. An event Charlie very much wished to forget. In the few years since that day in Valentine’s bunker, Charlie’s done his absolute best to shut it away. He didn’t need to dwell on things he had no power to change. It was over. In the past.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head.

Still, when every news channel hosted specials about it, it was more than a little difficult to deal with. Getting away from his TV was supposed to help, but he could hear people talking about it as he passed them on the street, sharing stories or wondering how on earth it happened in the first place. Newsstands were covered in headlines honoring those lost on that day.

Charlie wondered if his own family would be listed among the many dead, or if they were forgotten for simply being in the wrong place.

No one talked about how it all ended.

Because they didn’t know the truth.

Hell, even Charlie wasn’t awake to see the fight between Gazelle and Eggsy, but it was clear by the carnage left behind that he’d ascended to true ‘hero’ status, while Charlie was left behind, stepping over so much mess, simply trying to stay conscious.

What did they expect him to do? Come crawling to the tailor shop, begging for forgiveness?

His hand was forced, or that’s what he told himself, at least, regarding this most recent blow. He tried not to think about that, either. He never wanted to see another burger again.

Left on autopilot, stewing in his thoughts, he finally glanced down at his watch, cursing as he realized he missed lunch. It wasn’t the first time, but on a day like today, he could’ve used a healthy dose of your advice.

That’s what he told himself anyway.

He pulled out his phone, dismissing the news alerts as quickly as possible, but not quickly enough, and immediately dialed your number.

He felt eyes on him as he stood in the middle of the sidewalk and he turned his back to the open cafe beside him, eyes scanning the road as the phone rang against his ear.

“Please leave a message for—”

“Shit,” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to focus his thoughts so he didn’t alarm you. “Hey, listen, I lost track of time today, I’m really sorry. You’re probably back at work already, so… when you get this, can you call me? I really need a friendly voice in my ear right now. Again, so sorry. Bye.”

He ended the call, half-tempted to chuck the phone into the gutter out of frustration. He only barely stopped himself. He just needed to be patient. He needed to wait for your call. You’d call, you always called.

He took in a deep breath before wandering into a small open market, mind focused on you.

*****

Charlie woke from a nap to the sound of someone knocking at his door. He sat up with a groan, taking a moment to wipe at his face before getting to his feet. He walked through the darkened apartment, not turning any lights on as he’d memorized the floor plan ages ago. Soon enough he reached the door and peeked out, only to be greeted by you.

A ripple of panic ran through him at the state of… well, everything. Not expecting you by, he definitely hadn’t cleaned, and he wasn’t dressed for visitors either. Still, he wasn’t about to keep you waiting or turn you away.

He really did need to talk to you, even if it was usually a bit like pulling teeth.

He unlocked the door and held it open, watching for your reaction to his clearly disheveled state.

“I didn’t know if you’d be okay with me coming here…” You gave him a once-over before smiling sadly. “I know I should’ve called first, but you sounded so upset, I came straight over.”

He glanced at the paper bag in your arms. “Straight over?”

You hid behind the top of the bag as you felt your face get warm. “You missed lunch, so…”

He took the bag from you, inspecting the contents as you followed him inside.

Steak, lobster, some potatoes, and a bunch of other things he couldn’t immediately identify had his stomach growling. He hoped you didn’t hear. You didn’t need to worry after him eating too.

“I’m cooking you dinner,” you explained, moving into his kitchen after turning on the lights.

“It’s a pretty fucking lavish spread, love.” He set the bag on the counter and looked up at you, a smile beginning to form on his face, his first one for the day, though you couldn’t have known that. He felt his heart get just a touch lighter at the thought that you’d cook such a meal for him. “I can cook for you,” he argued, the smile only growing as he watched you pull a grill pan out of one of the cabinets.

“Charlie, just let me do this for you. I kind of feel like shit for missing your call.”

“I’m the one who missed lunch in the first place,” he countered, walking over. “Wandering around with my head stuck up my—”

“It’s always going to be a difficult day.” Your hand on his forearm did wonders for his mental well-being but completely tanked his self-control. “You don’t need to apologize for it.” He stayed extremely still, but nodded to you.

He liked your hair like that.

You put on some music, his position allowing him to peek and catch sight of your phone as you connected it to a wireless speaker set up on the bar. He swore he thought your home screen was a picture of the two of you during a much easier meeting.

What the fuck was he doing?

“At the very least, can I help? It’ll… It’ll help me keep my mind off things.”

No it won’t. It’s an excuse to be closer to you.

You nodded with a smile, encouraged by his growing ease, pushing the butcher paper-wrapped steaks towards him on the counter as you set the carefully hand-picked potatoes in front of you, preparing to wash them.

“What did you do today?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer without sounding extremely pathetic. The sink drowned out his more rational thoughts and he looked down at the raw, vividly red meat in front of him, struggling to keep composure as his mind flashed things he wished he’d never seen.

No one should ever have that mental image tucked away for a rainy day.

“Charlie?”

He jumped, clearly startled. He felt a flush of embarrassment as he gripped the edge of the countertop tightly, risking damage with his right hand.

You glanced down at his white-knuckle grip, one of your much softer hands passing over his left. It was wet from the sink, but he didn’t care. “Hey, why don’t you open up this, have a drink and relax, hmm?” You passed him a bottle of wine, chilled already. He could imagine you shopping around the store, thinking of what he’d like.

You did too much for him, he felt. But he didn’t want to sound like he didn’t want the care and concern. He craved it. From you. And that was the problem.

He was able to speak now that you’d folded up the paper. He got down two glasses and rummaged around in a drawer for a corkscrew as he thought of what to tell you.

“I just walked. For a long time. I kept hearing bits of newscasts or people talking about it, thought if I walked for long enough, I’d finally be out of range. I’d reach the edge of the city and there would be no one to remind me of it over and over again as if I don’t relive it during my every waking moment—”

He cut himself off, taking a large sip from the first glass he poured, topping it off again and taking another before pouring yours.

“What bothers you most about it?” you asked, taking the glass from him, both of you locking eyes as you drank.

You held the glass in your hands and his eyes passed over your fingers, the lack of a ring there causing a spike in his chest. You couldn’t date, you were too busy taking care of him.

And deep down he knew he wouldn’t want you to.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be tonight? Instead of babysitting me? It’s a tragedy no one’s staked their claim.”

He saw the annoyance in your face, enjoyed the way your cheeks went a bit high as your expression shifted. You turned and set the glass down beside the sink before reacting. “Don’t change the subject, Charlie—”

“I don’t like how my brain forces me to relive my worst mistakes on audio cue. Whenever I hear his name, or if someone says fucking—”

“Happy Valentine’s Day?”

He almost lost it. You were watching him carefully, and he knew you did it on purpose. He didn’t know if he was more hurt or angry. But he channeled his emotions into the look that was on your face.

Before you knew what was happening, you were sitting on the countertop, his hands holding your face in place as he pressed his lips against yours with the kind of force that you swore could only come from anger.

But you didn’t sense anger coming from him.

You were pressing against his chest to get him to take a step back but it was like pushing against a brick wall. Solid. Firm.

Nice.

As he angled his head so his nose wasn’t pressing so hard against yours, you were able to suck in a breath and turn your head away. His nose moved to the side of your face, hands still in your hair, wide palms covering your cheeks as he breathed deeply, standing between your legs.

“We can’t do this, Charlie.”

He let out a whine as his hands slipped down your face, resting on your spread thighs. His thumbs made slow circles as he slowly inched the dress higher. You weren’t stopping him.

Your own hands moved up to smooth over his soft hair, so much longer now that he’d finally stopped buzzing it short.

“Why not?” he whispered, swollen lips tugging at your ear.

“You’re just lonely,” you whispered back.

He shook his head. He wasn’t. He was sure of it. Back when he met you he didn’t have a clue what he wanted. Being ‘just friends’ was the best thing he could’ve asked for. Now, the idea of a proper relationship didn’t scare him so much. You knew everything about him, the good and the bad, and you were still around. There had to be more to it, right? He hoped there was more to it.

Nobody could be that selfless. Not for him.

He tested your limits, fingers inching their way higher along your thighs until you closed your eyes tightly with a hiss and he felt pressure at his sides from you trying to close your legs.

As his thumb passed over the thin material covering that sweet, sweet  area between your legs, he felt the dampness and grinned.

“Are you ‘just lonely’ too?” he teased.

You didn’t have an answer for him, instead pressing your forehead against his shoulder in an attempt to hide your reaction as his fingers pulled the fabric aside and he got his first chance at your folds.

He stared straight ahead as you clung to him, though he wasn’t really looking at anything, much more focused on mentally mapping your lower half through touch alone. He easily slid two fingers in, your body preparing you long before he even laid a hand on you. As you gasped, the metal hand reached up to gently brush over your cheek, keeping your open mouth against the base of his neck as your breathing became more audible.

He could feel you moving into his touch, trying to find deeper penetration. It was enough for him to consider stopping so he could relieve himself of all the built up tension.

But where’s the fun in that?

As his thumb smoothed over your clit he felt you trembling on his fingers. As he curled his fingers up you squeezed his shoulders so tightly even he grunted in response.

Your lips attached to his neck and he hardly suppressed a shudder as you began sucking softly, one of your hands moving to the other side of his neck for support as if you were drinking from him.

A ‘thank you’ if he’d ever seen one.

He felt like he was slowly going mad.

As you picked your head up he took his chance, reconnecting your mouths, his mind spinning over the fact that he finally had you here, that he could give something back to you in return for spending your time worrying over him for so long.

You were so responsive, so receptive to him, he needed more.

“What about dinner?” you mumbled against his lips as he lifted you up off the counter, the potatoes rolling off and hitting the floor with dull thumps, music much too low to disguise the way you were breathing.

“We can cook after,” he answered, carrying you off towards his bedroom. His earlier hunger was forgotten, pushed aside in favor of something much more satisfying.

“You’ll fall asleep after,” you complained. He stole a kiss, sloppy and full of tongue.

“This is more important.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

He sat on the edge of the plush bed, keeping you in his lap as he pulled his shirt off over his head. You did your best to help, but as soon as his skin was revealed you were smoothing your hands all over, head lowering to nip at his chest. He let himself be pushed back, his hands going for your hair, brushing it aside and holding it out of the way. He wanted to watch you.

He flushed as your palm passed over the obvious bulge, felt himself break out into a sweat as your fingers tugged down the waistband of both his track pants and underwear, your eyes watching for the moment he’d spring free.

His head sank back into the blankets and his hands fell away as he felt your lips around the head of his cock, tongue swirling around it probably directly contributing to how lightheaded he felt. He wanted to look, wanted to have the visual stimulation as well as the physical, but if he was honest, he’d probably give it up right then and there.

His grip on the comforter tightened.

You were taking your time with him, hands smoothing up and down his thighs, listening to the noises he was making. You lifted your head, replacing your mouth with your hand as you went lower to get at his—

His hand was soft on your arm as he made a noise that sounded like something close to ‘don’t.’

You sat up, concern clear in your expression. Before you could open your mouth to ask, he was already reassuring you.

“I won’t last much longer, love, and there’s something else I want.” You could see his pink cheeks, his flushed chest, in the light from the open bedroom door. His hands moved to your hips as he breathed deeply.

You looked him dead in the eye.

“Promise me.”

“Promise you what?” he panted.

“Promise me I’m not just a distraction.”

Guilt filled him. Not because it was true, but because you thought he’d do that to you, after all this time. All this companionship. All these meetings and all these confessions. All these conversations and lazy days, all these holidays spent together because neither of you wanted to be alone.

There was a lot about this “friendship” that he was starting to see in a different light.

“You’re not,” he insisted, sitting up. “I’m not reliving that day at the moment, no, but it’s because you’d have done that with a smile, your mouth is a given—”

“Charlie!” you interrupted, eyes going wide as your cheeks grew warm.

He could see the internal debate in your eyes as you got off of him, eyes averted as you reached for the zipper at the top of the dress. A few seconds of struggling finally earned a laugh from you, it bubbled up out of your throat almost involuntarily as the smile on Charlie’s face grew.

“C’mere, let me get it.” You turned your back to him, holding your hair out of the way as he reached up and gently unzipped the dress. As more of your skin was exposed, he went slower, realizing the gravity of what the two of you were about to do, what you’d already done.

“Thank you,” he whispered, slipping the dress down your arms, lips going to your bare shoulder seconds later. “You do so much for me, and maybe sometimes I don’t realize…”

“You say that like you’ve never done anything for me.”

“Name one thing I’ve done that didn’t also help me.”

You stood and let the dress fall to your feet, lifting your eyes to watch his face as you turned around, trying to gauge his reaction, nerves at an all-time high.

He licked his lips. You reminded yourself of what you were supposed to be discussing.

“You went over to my apartment and installed the new security system for me after the break-ins a few months ago.”

“Keeps you safe so I get to see more of you. Next.”

“You went with me to the terrible work Christmas party.”

“And I got to make sure no one with ill-intentions got within a foot of you.”

“But isn’t it the same with what I do for you?”

“No.”

“How not?” you asked, eyes following him as he stood, kicking off his pants and underwear.

“You’ve healed me. In ways I don’t quite understand. I was a mess when I met you.”

“All you needed was for someone to listen to you. You needed to confess. And you did. And I wasn’t by myself anymore. It’s not like I’m magic, I just… gave you a chance to explain yourself. Maybe your old friends didn’t do that.”

His hands were on your cheeks and his nose brushed along yours. A much more gentle version of the earlier first kiss followed.

“I’m going to tell you something and you’ll probably call me crazy,” he whispered.

You moved back, watching him warily. “You sure you want to ruin this?” You leaned back in, getting close to his ear. “I’ll be honest, I’m in a highly suggestible state right now,” you admitted, reaching back to unfasten the bra. He felt it hit his feet, but he kept his eyes focused on yours. You put this to the test, pulling his hand up to cup one of your breasts.

He chuckled nervously, leaning in to steal a short, deep kiss as he squeezed—

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. Or, as close to it as I’ve ever been.”

You didn’t know what to say.

“Just—you’re not a distraction. Far from it. I’m not lonely, I mean, I’m a hermit, but I go out. My point is, I really care about you. Maybe more than I realized waking up today.”

It was difficult to reign in your reaction. Incredibly difficult.

“So does this mean we can make today a better sort of anniversary?”

His hands found yours. “I think I’d be very happy with that.”

Your grin echoed his, his confession on permanent replay in your mind.

“Well go on then, show a girl a good time, yeah? Or have you lost your touch?”

“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath, seconds before he pulled you down onto the bed beside him.

He kissed you deeply, using his bulk to keep you pressed into the mattress. He didn’t stop until his jaw was sore and he thought he might come just from rubbing up against you. He sat up, reaching for his nightstand and pulling open the drawer.

You were blissed out beneath him, watching him, studying his jawline, reaching up to touch the scruff there, smiling at him as he looked down at you curiously.

“You’re handsome,” you explained, as if that answered every question.

He felt a weight leave him as he tore open the foil packet with his teeth. Before he could deal with the rest of it, you reached up and pulled the condom free, eyes flicking down between the two of you for half a second before meeting his again. He sighed loudly as he felt your fingers smoothing it on.

He pulled down the sides of your underwear and you took care of the rest, kicking  your foot out until they fell off and landed somewhere on the floor with everything else.

He felt your ankles pushing at the back of his thighs, trying to get him in. As you laughed, he cut it off with his lips, his own smile breaking the kiss. He’d never felt this relieved in his whole life.

He pushed in easily enough, you already swollen and slick after his fingers back in the kitchen. He took a moment for himself, taking in a deep breath as he was fully seated within you, sitting up after a few seconds.

His hands were firm on your hips, his eyes raking over your bare chest and abdomen as he slowly began bringing your hips in to meet his. He watched you cover your face with your hands as small noises began to slip out.

“Lost my touch, love?” he teased.

All you could do was shake your head as he reached down for you, pulling out for long enough to turn you over onto your stomach.

He laid down on top of you once he filled you again, swollen lips pressing kisses into the skin between your shoulder blades after each thrust.

“More,” you urged, pushing back against him. Taking it as a challenge, he increased his pace dramatically, hitting deeper as you lifted your hips beneath him.

You buried your face in the comforter as you moaned openly.

He sat up on his knees, hands moving to grip your hips as he felt himself nearing that point of no return.

Feeling him start to slow, you reached back for one of his hands, pulling it up to your lips. It took him a few seconds to realize it was the metal.

“Love, I’m about finished—”

“Just, right there—”

You angled your hips just right and sank down into the bed, your moans and the internal spasms signaling that you were spent. He felt his own breathing hitch as he finally allowed himself his release. It took a second of rest before he could breathe again.

The last thing he wanted to do was move.

But you’d gone through the trouble of preparing a beautiful dinner for him, or trying to before he so rudely interrupted you.

He got up to dispose of the condom and ended up splashing some water on his face, taking a moment in the bathroom to examine the small mark at his neck, grinning at the slight redness he found there.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, reaching for him as he returned to the bed.

He only leaned down for a quick kiss. “I’ve got to go cook the wonderful meal you bought for us,” he reminded you.

“Do I get you back when we’re done eating?”

“Of course, love,” he winked. He pulled a new pair of underwear out of one of his drawers and slipped them on before returning to the kitchen. “If you thought you were tired of me before, just wait.”

You laid there, watching him from the bed, not in any state to get up just yet.

The last thing you expected when you knocked on his door was all this. You honestly thought maybe he wouldn’t even answer. Maybe he didn’t want to see you on a day like today, which you’d totally understand. While you sat at the small cafe, looking through the glass for any sign of him, you wondered if today wasn’t the best day to try to make progress with him.

But here you were, naked, exhausted, in his bed. And there was a promise of more.

You’d keep trying to prove to Charlie that things didn’t have to be like what he was used to. He could have a normal life. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder. No one was looking for him anymore. He could make something new, invest his time and energy into new ventures. Get a hobby. Even if that hobby involved fucking you.

You felt a blossoming sense of hope as you finally got out of bed and tip-toed over to his bathroom to clean up a little. You heard him calling for you as you were pulling on some of his old clothes and you walked out into the living room, spying a recipe for disaster as he looked over in panic

“I need your help,” he admitted.

“When don’t you?” you joked.

After everything was situated, the kitchen a little less messy, he threw his arms around your shoulders, his lips pressing into your hair.

“Thank you.” There was a pause. You waited, wondering what he’d have to say next. He moved down, his voice a deep whisper. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

[thestoryof-officially]

Day 308 - Robotic

Day 308 - Robotic: Write about a robot.

This one immediately made me think about a particularly impactful dance performance I saw a few years ago. A lot of us probably know him, Merrick Hanna. His audition dance on America's Got Talent was about a robot, and we saw him dance to the story of the robot being built, played with, then forgotten and left behind. It was, in my opinion, very beautiful, and very sad, and definitely left a lot to be thought about. So that, of course is one idea. Write about the dance. Or write about the life of a robot. Maybe tell a story through a robot's eyes! Or write a poem about a robot, or about someone like a robot. Really, I think all my ideas usually boil down to short story or poem, but no one else's has to! This one opens a world that takes us back to childhood, I think, and there's so much to think about in that context.

Entry below!

~~~

Nine years ago, I was running from a guard and literally ran into him. It? Him. He, this robot, I mean, had more humanity than anyone I’d spoken to since I was 11. Without even questioning what was happening, he grabbed my hand, pulled me into the bushes, and got me out of trouble. The guard ran by cluelessly and never found us. We became best friends.

Six years ago, we got caught in the war. We were “the bad guys” because we were fighting the government, who was sapping power from anywhere it could be found. I got shot at. He took the hit and lost an arm. I was suddenly really glad he couldn’t feel things like we could.

Four years ago, he started becoming less human. I suppose that’s a poor choice of words considering he was never human to begin with, but the kindness I’d seen in him five years previously had simply disappeared. He became gruffer. The second glance he gave people ceased to exist. He almost completely stopped talking to me, and it was like all the things we’d been through as best friends stopped mattering.

Three years ago, the little lights that told me his systems were running started flickering. His joints became stiffer and he truly began to move like a robot. His replaced arm was the only thing that worked like new, and even then its movements became stiffer and more calculated, yet less careful. It was the last time he spoke a word to me or anyone.

Two years ago, he shot me in the leg. When I cried out, I saw a flicker of recognition in him. He looked guilty. He looked sad. And then it was gone. He turned his back on me, and was pulled in by the government’s system of robotic forces. He stood next to army bots and technology years ahead of him. He stood next to the bots that shot off his arm. He stood next to their Admiral, who just happened to be the guard I was running from so many years ago. And in that moment, ‘he’ truly became an ‘it’.

A year ago, I started to question the war. I used to think robots could be as good and as human as... As… Well, as other humans. I thought they could be kind! I thought they had heart! But I travelled the country side, with a limp, by myself. I became bitter. It was out of sheer will of mind that I didn’t shoot down every robot I saw. I don’t know why. They were unfeeling. Those that had been recruited by the government didn’t care, they killed without thought. They were ruthless and cruel, and I didn’t want anything to do with any of them. Not a single one.

Six months ago, it came back. This time he- it was running from the Admiral that he’d been oh-soooo-loyal to. The irony of him- IT- running into me and running from the very same person was almost laughable. I don’t know why I followed that stupid parallel. I don’t know why I pulled… it, aside, into the bushes, and kept us hidden until the Admiral was gone. I don’t know why… why it wanted to talk to me. Why it started talking again. Why the lights still flickered but looked alive again. But he- it betrayed me! It left! I don’t want anything to do with him- WITH IT! Ever! Again!

Four months ago, I gave up. This robot hasn’t stopped talking since it found me. It talks more than it did before it went silent years ago. It goes on and on and on about why it left me, about how it wished it had never shot me, about how the arm I made it after it got shot was the best thing it had, how it wanted another chance, how it knew what was going on within the governmental forces- and that’s when I gave up. That information was valuable, and I’d let it tag along this long.This was the only reason I was going to start listening. It was the ONLY reason.

Two months ago I gave him another chance. It was… He was once my friend, and he was respectful of me and my boundaries. He’s spent so much time trying to fix the things he messed up, how could I not- Anyway, with his help, we discovered a weakness at the center of the entire government’s power system. There was this massive building at the base of it all that provided some kind of wireless control and power generation to every single one of the government built army bots. As well as their biggest weaponry, their heaviest machinery, and their most dangerous tools. It’s safeguarded to everything we can think of, though. I don’t know what we’re going to do, but somehow having my… my friend, back, is- it opens up a side of me I forgot I had and I think we might have a chance at this.

One month ago the entire world was strapped to a time bomb. The government has been producing army bots at a rate faster than I can blink my eyes, and their weaponry has become so powerful we don’t have anything, anywhere, to rival it. Other world powers are too afraid to intervene. Anyone that doesn’t ally with this government is eradicated. Our small band of rebels grows smaller every day because people are afraid. There’s promise of protection and freedom should you join that side, but it’s a lie. I know it’s a lie. My best friend knows it’s a lie. He knows first hand that it’s a lie. And if they win, they will bleed every resource dry, they will kill anyone, man, woman, or child, that chooses not to stand with them, and they will have absolute control of everyone on their “team”. Factions and groups of lower ranked people within their control are already being separated out, and I can see that they are neither protected nor free. There’s so much discrimination. There’s so much control. The army bots create so much fear, and the coming generations are spending their childhoods in filth ridden villages with barely any food or shelter, much less education or freedom. And when I see my best friend reacting to these things so emotionally and passionately, it’s like he never left.

A week ago, we infiltrated the government system. We hid in one of their abandoned underground tunnels and set a plan in place. We don’t know if it will work, but given how little time we have left… this is our best shot.

Six days ago, he told me it wouldn’t work. He told me it couldn’t work, that something like it had already been tried. Words and fists were thrown his way, but he never hit me back and I ran away without looking where I was going.

Five days ago I sat in a cell and tried to understand why draining the power system wouldn’t shut down their Source. He found me and told me he was getting me out. When he couldn’t figure out the cell’s lock code, he jammed his hand into it, the one on the arm I made him so long ago, and sent in a pulse of energy that overwhelmed and shut down the systems. The cell door all but flew open and we made our escape. Suddenly I understood.

Four days ago, we put together a plan. We tried to contact our other known rebel forces and allies, but none responded. It was down to us. He knew what needed to get done, and I knew what needed to get done. As long as we were precise and timely about it, we could get in, shut it down, get out, and hopefully things would unravel to our benefit from there. All we had to do was get ahold of the relic, supposedly half of… something, whose other half powered the Source. If we could get it, we could overwhelm the Source and destroy it. It was almost too simple.

Three days ago, he managed to find the relic but couldn’t touch it. He said as soon as he touched it he felt his own power source spike. We had to replan a little bit, and close to midnight I went back to get it myself, after I taught him how to keep track of our hack into the security cameras. The guards were still looking for their ‘escaped prisoner’.

Two days ago the guards found their escaped prisoner. I managed to get the relic to him last night, but when I was wandering around in the early hours I was found. They shot me. In my bad leg. And I think they figured out that I have a ‘companion’ hiding somewhere underground. I hope he stays hidden. 

Yesterday he came to find me. The guards never even had to look. Since he could watch the security cameras, he figured out where I was. He wrapped up the relic and came to me. We were too close to being out of time for him not to, and then he got caught too. I can’t believe I let this happen! I think we’re in over our heads!

This morning we concocted a plan. The guards came to execute us and take back the relic. I’m surprised they didn’t take it back right off the bat. Anyway, as soon as they walked in, we attacked. Fighting alongside my best friend again, I was thrown back through memories and realized I knew this feeling. I knew it well. We’d done this sort of thing all the time. And I missed it.

Six hours ago we ran away from the holding cells, the relic tucked under my arm. We were too close to miss this, there was too much at stake!

Five hours ago we returned to our hiding spot underground for our things. It was crawling with guards. In the end we shrugged. We were returning to destroy my equipment. They’d done our work for us. Shame we’d be missing out on the last of those energy bars, though.

Four hours ago we tripped the alarms. At that point it was all or nothing. We ran at breakneck speed toward the center of the base, so out of breath I was afraid I’d pass out. Two turns from our destination a guard grabbed my leg and I felt my entire body come slamming down onto the ground. I dropped the relic and the sheet wrapped around it came off. It rolled away from me and hit my best friend’s foot as my head started to pound. He stopped and glanced back, realizing I wasn’t with him, and I yelled at him to take the relic and run. But he couldn’t do it. He tried to pick up the relic and his power source spiked again. The last thing I saw before my vision went black was guards coming in from all directions and grabbing him by the arms.

Two hours ago I woke up. Funnily enough, I lay right next to the Source. I heard an electronic humming, but it was- it was painful to listen to. Almost like nails scratching against a chalkboard, but somehow translated to the world of technology. I glance to my left. There are dozens of guards stationed around the entire room, at every doorway, against the walls, by every dip in the floor. I look to my right and gasp. He’s there, strapped to the floor. I realize belatedly that I am too. The relic is hanging by what looked like a thread over his chest, and little sparks of electricity and energy are fizzling and crackling around every bolt and wire in him. That’s the humming sound that’s making my head hurt so much, but it looks like it’s hurting him more. 

An hour ago, we met the man in charge. Rather, the robot in charge. Er, neither? He looked like he’d once been human, but more of him was robotic than organic. He tried to tell us that our relationship, a human and a robot being friends, was something as beautiful as he was. That we were meant to be fit together like one, and that what he was trying to do was make that more real, like him. When I tell you I took that as utter nonsense- As it is, I managed to pull one of my arms out of its restraints. The man laughed. He simply let me and my best friend out altogether, released the restraints. He invited us to try whatever it was that we were gonna try. I looked at my best friend and knew he wasn’t buying it either. Of course, I was right. I yanked the relic from its dangling position and ran at the Source. I touched the relic to it and… nothing happened. The relic glowed a little. It was rather pretty, but not particularly useful. Then the man laughed, something that sent a chill down my spine as it was neither human nor robot. The guards attacked us and he watched, amused. It was all a game to him.

30 minutes ago, I was shot. My head was bleeding. My leg was bleeding. My arm was bleeding. But I was alive. 

15 minutes ago, he got shot. We were running out of energy. I didn’t know how much longer we could hold them off.

Ten minutes ago the man took the relic and laughed as we were overwhelmed and backed into the Source.

Five minutes ago I got kicked away from my best friend and I couldn’t get back up. The guards were ordered to stillness and the man approached him menacingly.

Three minutes ago, my best friend got the relic back. His hands burned and sent up smoke as soon as he touched it. The man grew furious and ordered his men and the army bots to attack him and get the relic back. We made eye contact.

Two minutes ago he backed into the Source and held the relic to his chest. There was an explosion and all the lights when out.

A minute ago everyone went still except for me. The lights stayed out. The human guards became confused because their partners, the army bots, they all stopped working. The computers turned off, the Source went dark. But I couldn’t stop crying.

30 seconds ago I cradled my best friend in my arms. The glow of his power source was gone.

10 seconds ago I realized we won. He saved the world.

5 seconds ago I stopped being able to see through my tears.

Now I’m watching myself being pulled away from my best friend. We won. I lost.

~~~

This is most certainly among my longer entries for this daily prompt thing. And it's definitely not what I was planning to do. I meant it to be shorter for one, but the more I wrote, the more I got sucked into this story I was making as I went. About a quarter of the way through I knew I meant to have the robot die in the end. Rereading this I worry that differentiating characters is too difficult to do and that the progression of time doesn't make sense. I have it counting down the whole time, and the goal with this is to instill a sense of anxiousness. I want readers to see "five days ago" and start worrying because we're getting really close to right now, because we're getting really close to the presumed end. I want it to make you think about needing to know what happens next. I think the concept in and of itself could have been very successful in doing this. It's not necessarily unsuccessful now, but it's unrefined, and all of this came to me as I went so it may be a little more scattered and disorganized. In the end, I think I like it. I think I like the story it tells and I think it could be a lot of fun to play with another time in the future.

[jonathanraychapman]

Here are my thoughts on the PlayStation Classic.  

First of all, the build quality is pretty decent on this.  The little plastic PS1 feels solid and the buttons are just fine.  It doesn’t feel cheap like the Flashbacks or clone consoles do.  And the controllers truly mimic the original PS1 controller.  I happen to really like the ergonomics - the D-pad and the buttons are just fine (you can perform combos in fighters adequately even if they’re going to take their toll on your thumb over time - just like the original).   I know people complain about them not including USB dual shock controllers.  I believe with the line-up of games given, it makes sense to just include the digital-only controller.  It’s also what PS1 owners had at the original release.  Plus, you can just buy a cheap USB adapter and use your own dual-shock.  Sony didn’t use some proprietary port like Nintendo did.

The unit doesn’t come with a power brick; just a USB cable.  I’ve heard people gripe about this, and - while obviously a cost-saving measure - I have a million power bricks already.  Why would I want to play another $5 to get another one?  My power strip even has the USB ports built right in.  To me this is a non-issue and - if this saved any money in the final cost - that’s great.

And let’s talk about cost.  At $100, this classic was just too expensive.  But with 20 games, that’s say $20 for the hardware and $4 for each game.  That’s not terrible honestly.  And - let’s face it - no-one’s buying this at full price.  I bought mine for $58 shipped.  I’ve seen people saying they’re $25 at Walmart.  At $25, this is an absolute steal.  At around $50, it’s a definite must-buy for a PlayStation enthusiast.

And are the games good?  Well I’d say they are pretty solid.  There’s a couple of non sequiturs in there like Jumping Flash that made me wonder “why?”, but overall there’s several great RPGs (FF7), there’s racers, there’s puzzle games.  It’s a good lineup.  It’s not the definitive PS1 experience and I understand the criticism there, but it’s not a failure as some would have you believe.   It was a little greedy to only package in 20 games instead of 25 or 30, but a lot of the best PS1 games were created by other companies and I’m sure Sony had to work out licensing with them again for this.  That’s probably why we didn’t have the Gran Turismo game on there (because of the auto companies).

And do those games play well?  Well that’s the big debate.  The emulator is set to auto by default on the output frequency (NTSC vs PAL), but the company used the PAL versions of the disc images (probably to ensure compatibility with European TVs).  So essentially, you’ll be playing Tekken with a lower framerate and that’s kind of unforgivable (as the main selling point of that game is the solid 60 FPS).  Now the hardware is more than capable of emulating PS1 so there’s no issue besides the frame rate.  And there are two easy ways to fix this without modding the console.  The easiest is to buy the 8bitdo wireless adapter and then use a bluetooth controller (which you probably already own - also allows you to use analog on your PS4 controller).  You can access the emulator menu with a button combination.  The other - more difficult - method is to find a compatible USB keyboard and plug that into the second port.  If it’s recognized you can access the menu with a key combination.  Should you have had to go to this effort each time you play a game?  No.. absolutely not.  But it is what it is.  If you absolutely need to play Tekken as God intended, you have an option to do so without modding.

And that brings us to the final port.  This thing is ever-so-easily hackable with BleemSync.  And the mod just runs off of a USB stick - so if you unplug it, you’re back to normal again (well it does hack the internals, but it acts just like normal).  You can prep your USB stick with as many PS1 games as you want and those will merge in with the originals on the menu so that you can keep those games without copying them over to the stick.  And you also get to choose your PS1 emulator (with retroarch having more choices, better scanlines, etc).  This process is all very painless for those that want to experience it.  The loading software with BleemSync is getting better and better and with retroarch, you can even turn to PlayStation Classic into a general emulation box and run Sega Genesis roms off of it.  It’s kind of like a cheaper Raspberry Pi, only easier to set up and maintain and in this cute little package for $25 or $50.  Doesn’t get much better than that.

So final thoughts about the PlayStation Classic?  It’s an absolute must-buy for enthusiasts and a decent value overall - no matter how much you want to customize it.  The complains are all valid, but overall, this is a great value.  It is a much better value because of BleemSync (which addresses the framerate and game selection), but even without it, I’d still give this a soft-recommendation.  

[the-desolated-quill]

Heavy Rain - Video Game blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t played this game yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Do you remember the amount of hype that was building around this game at the time? Heavy Rain had caught the attention of multiple mainstream news sites with the promise that this was going to be the next big thing in games. A totally immersive, grown up drama that would bridge the gap between video games and films. Was it? Well... no. Eight years later, David Cage’s ‘interactive drama’ has been largely forgotten and while narratives in games did start to become more sophisticated in the 2010s, I’d argue that Heavy Rain didn’t really play that big a part as David Cage would like to think.

Heavy Rain is a murder mystery/psychological thriller. The Origami Killer kidnaps kids, drowns them in rainwater and leaves an origami figure in their hands and an orchid on their chests. The latest kid to get kidnapped is Shaun Mars and it’s a race against time to for the four main protagonists to save him before he dies. Like with David Cage’s previous game Fahrenheit, there is a good solid premise behind Heavy Rain. And to Quantic Dream’s credit, they have taken great strides to improve the gameplay. Instead of the stupid Simon Says system we got in Fahrenheit, Heavy Rain uses traditional QTEs and it works a lot better. It doesn’t distract you from what’s happening on screen and there are times where the game threatens to live up to its promise of being ‘immersive.’ For example when Ethan is having a panic attack in the train station and you have to physically move the wireless controller up and down to get him to walk or when Madison is picking a lock and you hold the L1 and R1 buttons down and tilt the controller to open the door. That’s good game design and it marries up quite nicely with what’s happening on screen. One thing I’m less keen on however is holding R2 to move the character. It feels so clunky and awkward, like you’re driving a car rather than moving a person. Nope. Don’t like that at all. Totally immersion breaking.

One gameplay mechanic I think had potential and wish was better handled is the ability to listen to a character’s thoughts by pressing the L2 button. That I thought was a legitimately clever concept and could have helped give the player an insight into the characters during pivotal moments. Like someone showing bravado only to listen to their thoughts and realise they’re actually terrified and just putting on an act. That could have been great. Instead the thoughts are either utterly mundane or are just there to give you tips when you’re stuck on how to progress. It feels like such a waste of potential.

I suppose I should quickly talk about the graphics considering they were a huge selling point at the time. The most realistic human faces ever, motion capture, blah blah blah. Except Heavy Rain wasn’t really the first game to use motion capture. The Uncharted games had used it for cutscenes and stuff. And honestly, I didn’t think the graphics were all that impressive even at the time. It’s the uncanny valley effect. There’s a reason why Pixar and Dreamworks make their human characters cartoony looking. It’s because rendering realistic looking humans on a computer is incredibly fucking difficult and people can instantly tell when it’s off. The characters in Heavy Rain look more like plastic action figures to me rather than actual people. Their movements and facial expressions just felt incredibly stilted and wooden to me, particularly during kissing and sex scenes where everything becomes really awkward and uncomfortable.

But never mind all of that. What about the writing? How does it compare to the insane laugh-a-thon that was Fahrenheit? Well if you’re after Tommy Wiseau-esque unintentional hilarity, you’re going to be slightly disappointed. Yes the writing is bad, but it’s not so bad it’s good like Fahrenheit was. It’s cliched, lacklustre and extremely limiting. The game boasts branching storylines and that all your choices matter, but in reality the story changes very little regardless of what you do. Yes there are loads of different endings, but what ending you get depends more on what happens in the final level than the rest of the game. As for characters dying at any time, that’s partially true. It’s impossible for Ethan and Scott to die before the end and when a character does die, all the game does is fence off certain levels.

In order to properly criticise and analyse the writing, let’s explore this character by character.

Ethan Mars

Out of all the characters, Ethan’s story is probably the most consistent and most satisfying to play. He’s the father of Shaun, the Origami Killer’s latest victim, and has to go through several Saw style trials in order to find him. I have to say, while the opening is extremely slow and tedious, forcing you to do all these mundane tasks like cooking and brushing your teeth and all this shit, as the game goes on, Ethan’s story comes the closest to delivering on the emotional and immersive experience David Cage promised. Pascal Langdale gives a pretty good performance for the most part and there were times where I did feel genuinely sorry for Ethan and his predicament. I’m not talking about the big set piece moments like when Jason dies at the beginning of the game. It’s the smaller scenes like Shaun doing his homework and Ethan looking on sadly at him or him sitting alone in his dusty office and reminiscing over his previous life before things went so wrong. That’s where the game really comes into its own. The trials too I thought were well written and designed for the most part. There’s some genuine tension in driving down the wrong side of the motorway or having to hack one of your own fingers off and it’s one of the rare occasions where the writing, acting and direction really come together and work as a cohesive whole.

That being said, there are still a litany of problems with Ethan’s story. The most glaring of which is the execution. While there are some legitimately powerful moments in Ethan’s story, they’re often ruined by David Cage’s overegging of the pudding. For example when Ethan has his panic attack in the train station, the motion controls and Langdale’s performance would have been enough to convey the pain and anxiety of the character. But then Cage takes it one step further with a stupid hallucination sequence with his dead kid Jason running round the station and people flopping over like ragdolls. Like... we get it. Ethan is depressed about his kid and that’s what has caused his fear of crowds. Even some of the mundane activities at the beginning of the game like making sure Shaun eats his dinner and does his homework on time could have been impactful if Cage didn’t drag it on for fucking hours and bore us into a coma as a result. In visual media, less is more. But the problem is David Cage seems so insecure about his own writing ability that he ends up overcompensating and bludgeoning the player over the head with these gaudy and over the top moments instead of just letting the performances of the actors convey the emotions and allowing the scene to speak for itself.

And then there are the moments and plot points that are just plain weird. So after his first son Jason dies in a car accident, Ethan starts experiencing blackouts. Not a bad idea, but the way they’re implemented is beyond incompetent. For starters Ethan has only two blackouts in the whole game and then it’s never mentioned or brought up again. Not even at the end when Shaun is all safe and sound (assuming you made all the right choices). Are we meant to assume that Ethan is magically cured after all this? And what exactly does Ethan get up to during the blackouts? When he regains consciousness, he’s always near Carnaby Square holding an origami figure. The significance of Carnaby Square is explained later on, but not how or why Ethan goes there during his blackouts. The only reason this is here is to plant the red herring that Ethan is the killer, except that’s utter bollocks. If Ethan was the killer, why would he kidnap a bunch of kids before his own? Were they just practice? What would be his motive? How did he learn to do origami? Where would he get the resources to create all these trials? What about the trials that involve him doing something in front of the camera or taking a photo as proof? If he’s responsible for these trials, who the hell is verifying this stuff? It’s utterly nonsensical and thus a complete waste of time. Apparently Ethan was supposed to share a psychic connection with the killer in the original script, but this was cut for time. The blackouts and stuff should have been cut too because it just doesn’t make sense with the current plot.

While there are a lot of flaws, I honestly would have been okay with Heavy Rain if the focus was just on Ethan. It wouldn’t have been a great game by any means, but it would have been decent enough. Unfortunately we’ve got three other characters to contend with, starting with...

Madison Paige

Let us turn our attention from the best character to the worst. I was amazed by the number of critics and gamers praising Madison for her strong characterisation because she has got to be one of the worst examples of video game sexism I’ve ever seen. The way David Cage writes and presents her is frankly despicable. She exists solely to be exploited. Cage’s obsession with her body is utterly disturbing. All characters, male and female, get shower scenes, but Madison is the only one that appears fully nude and the cameras pans across her entire body so you can see every inch of it. It’s really pervy and uncomfortable to watch. Worse still, every threat against her life is always sexual in nature. It’s not enough to have a cliched mad doctor who butchers people. We’ve got to have a scene where he tries to stick a drill up her vagina. There’s even a scene where a nightclub owner forces her to perform a striptease at gunpoint. You have the option to knock him out with a lamp before you get too naked, but the game seems to actively encourage you to strip off. And no, the intention clearly wasn’t to disturb the audience. The way it’s shot and choreographed is similar to the shower scene, clearly intended for a male gaze. And even if the scene was intended to be disturbing, there are ways of creeping out the player without sexually objectifying or demeaning women. It’s absolutely revolting. If you want further proof that Madison is intended solely to be exploited, please note that she’s only character in the game who has a separate person doing the voice while another person, glamour model Jacqui Ainsley, provides the body and face because presumably Judi Beecher isn’t sexy enough for David Cage. I rest my case.

But it’s not just that. It’s the way she’s implemented into the story too. All the other characters have their plots and vices set up immediately. Madison never does. We find out she has insomnia, but it’s never followed up on. We don’t know what caused it or whether she recovers. In fact we never learn a single solitary thing about her character. Her main role (apart from being sexually exploited) is to prop up the male hero Ethan. Even when it doesn’t make sense to do so. She treats his injuries and even helps him escape from the police, becoming a fugitive, despite not knowing a single thing about Ethan’s predicament. Also I couldn’t help but get the strongest sense of deja vu when Madison suddenly started to try and snog Ethan’s face off. It’s exactly like the bullshit romance from Fahrenheit. It comes right the fuck out of nowhere and is handled with all the grace and subtlety of a glow in the dark rhino. At least Heavy Rain gives you the option to decline. I tell you I couldn’t slam the ‘Don’t Kiss’ button fast enough.

Madison really does feel like a pointless inclusion to the game. She brings nothing new to the story and is basically used as a get out of jail free card. If Ethan or Norman fail to find the location of Shaun, Madison can just phone either of them up and tell them, even though she never meets or interacts with Norman at any point in the game, thus rendering the progress in their stories completely pointless. They could have sat in the corner dribbling for the entire game and it would have led to the same conclusion providing Madison survives the fire. (and speaking of plot holes and bad writing, why did she act shocked when Ann Sheppard told her the killer’s name. She never interacts with Scott at any point in the game. How does she know who he is? Did nobody proof read this shit?).

Norman Jayden

Here’s an idea to make playing this game more fun. When you get to the levels where you play as Norman Jayden, pretend he’s an alien from outer space. It would explain the daft VR sunglasses and Leon Ockenden’s terrible performance. I swear I’ve heard some bad American accents in my time, but this takes the fucking cake. I’m particularly amused by how camp Norman suddenly turns whenever he says the word ‘bastard.’

So. Norman. An FBI agent with a crippling drug problem... I think. He carries a tube of blue powder called triptocaine and sniffs it occasionally whenever he gets the shakes, but there’s a chance that this is actually caused by the VR sunglasses. There are several moments where a butler warns you not to overindulge in ‘you know what’ due to how dangerous it is. At first you think he’s referring to the triptocaine, but later it becomes clear he means the VR. So... what’s the point of the triptocaine then? Is he addicted to it or not? What’s he suffering withdrawal from? It’s all very unclear and poorly defined. And what exactly is the problem with the VR sunglasses? Why are they dangerous? How are they affecting him? We later see blood come out of his eyes, but how does that work? Not that any of this matters because it never actually links into the plot in any meaningful way. You can choose to either take the triptocaine or abstain and, aside from one level, the story carries on as normal regardless of your choice.

The thing is Norman Jayden’s story could have benefitted the most from the ‘your choice matters’ model. Imagine if the game actually gave you the freedom to investigate at your own pace. Allowed you to choose which suspects you question, which lead you follow, and have whether you find the killer or not all rely on the player’s own investigative abilities. Let the player find the clues and put together the solution themselves. Instead the game just yanks you from one false lead to the next and hands you solutions on a plate. This is a recurring problem throughout this game. Your choices simply don’t matter for the most part. David Cage merely wants to give the illusion of choice whilst forcing you down the path he wants you to take. There’s no real freedom or player choice. Actions very rarely have consequences and it all feels incredibly disappointing.

But the most excruciating thing about Norman Jayden isn’t even Norman Jayden. It’s the psychotic twat he has to hang around with. Lieutenant Carter Blake, police detective and arsehole. Throughout the game, Blake constantly butts heads with Norman and there never seems to be a good reason for it other than he’s a prick. Not just that, he often misuses his power, violently beating suspects for confessions and not only does Norman never report this, there’s also never a strong narrative reason for it. At first I thought Blake was just desperate to find the killer, but as it goes on you realise that’s not the case at all. He just enjoys being a violent dick. Why? I don’t know. And then there’s this whole witch hunt against Ethan. Ex wife Grace comes into the precinct to tell Blake about how Ethan dreams of drowning bodies and from then on Blake goes on a personal vendetta against Ethan, convinced he’s the Origami Killer. Except it doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense. For one thing, Ethan has an alibi. He was in a coma when the killings first started. Plus Grace says this happened in the spring and it’s been established that the Origami Killer only drowns his victims in the fall. There’s no concrete evidence tying Ethan to the crime. Just a vague, contradictory story from his ex wife. And yet Blake blindly goes along with it. Worse still, Norman never calls him out on it. It’s monumentally stupid writing. Did you know David Cage won a BAFTA for this game? How? Fucking how?!

Scott Shelby

Finally we come to Scott Shelby, a private detective who has been hired by the families of the victims of the Origami Killer to investigate. I have mixed feelings about this story. The Scott levels are often very dull and repetitive with each level mostly playing out the same. Scott questions someone about the Origami Killer, they refuse to talk, Scott leaves, someone threatens the witness, Scott saves them, witness gives information. Wash, rinse, repeat. It gets very boring after a while, especially considering the information you learn is basically the same as what Norman learns. The whole thing just feels like a massive waste of time. 

Scott suspects someone called Gordi Kramer to be the killer and has to contend with Gordi’s father Charles, but from the moment you meet Gordi, you know he can’t possibly be the killer and yet the game constantly focuses on the Kramers. Another issue I have is his relationship with Lauren Winter, the mother of one of the killer’s victims who tags along. Not only does she contribute nothing to the narrative other than making sad eyes every five minutes, the two also randomly kiss each other near the end despite sharing no hint of romantic chemistry. (seriously has David Cage ever been on a date with a human being before?).

But despite all of this, I found myself quite liking Scott. Sam Douglas gives the strongest performance of the four leads and the character comes off as warm and affectionate. Despite the tedium of the levels he’s in, it’s often his charm and likability that gets you through. Which is what makes the reveal that he’s in fact the Origami Killer all the more shocking.

Now when I first played this in 2010, I honestly thought it was a good twist. Scott pretended to be a private detective in order to find and dispose of evidence connecting to him. His obsession with Gordi Kramer was because he was insulted that there was another person killing children without a ‘good’ reason. I even liked the little detail that it was seeing Ethan throw himself in front of a car in an attempt to save Jason that sparked off the idea of the Origami Killer. It falls into that classic trope of heroes creating their own villains and it’s fairly well executed. However there is a little bit of cheating going on here. The timing of certain scenes doesn’t quite add up and some of the thoughts Scott has just doesn’t make sense when you know he’s the killer. Also this revelation opens up a ton of plot holes. Where did he get the money to buy all this stuff? The cars. The abandoned factory. The warehouse. The phones. The secret room in his apartment where he grows the orchids. He used to be a cop. There’s no way he could have had that much money in his retirement fund for all of this. Why did he subscribe to an origami magazine? Isn’t that a bit of a giveaway? Why did he buy the warehouse where he drowns his victims using his own name when he used his dead brother’s name for all of his other transactions? And what happened to his asthma? David Cage puts a lot of emphasis on his asthma in the early levels, but there’s never any payoff in the later levels. In fact it’s largely forgotten about. Scott gets into fist fights and even an over the top gunfight through a mansion and yet never gets an asthma attack when before he seemed to get them at the drop of a hat.

But the biggest question I have is this. Why Ethan? The Origami Killer kidnaps kids in order to test the fathers. To see how far they’d go to save their sons. As I said before, it was Ethan’s selflessness that inspired Scott to start the killings, to find a father that could do what his couldn’t. So why does he pick Ethan? He already knows that Ethan is prepared to sacrifice himself for his son. Why put him through all these tests? It just seems pointless. It gets even weirder at the end when Scott tries to kill Ethan. Again, the whole point of these murders is to test the fathers. Ethan succeeded. Why does he need to die? It completely goes against his modus operandi. And why use a gun to kill him? The final trial involves Ethan drinking poison, but then it’s revealed that the poison isn’t real. If Scott intended to kill Ethan, why not just use real poison? David Cage clearly hasn’t thought this through very thoroughly and this is a problem that extends throughout the entire game.

I applaud David Cage for wanting to tell different kinds of stories using the video game medium, but the fact of the matter is he’s simply not good at it. Yes video games are going through something of a renaissance right now, but I’d argue that it’s in spite of Heavy Rain rather than because of it. We have seen some truly incredible games over the past decade. Games that have redefined what you can do with the medium and told really engaging stories. Telltale’s The Walking Dead, The Last Of Us, The Stanley Parable, BioShock, the Mass Effect trilogy, Horizon Zero Dawn, Life Is Strange and many more. These games have truly innovated and expanded the medium. Heavy Rain however does the opposite. David Cage talks about innovating games, but if you look at what inspires him as a writer and how Heavy Rain is designed and structured, you’d think that Cage was embarrassed by video games. He’s trying so hard to make Heavy Rain more cinematic, but it doesn’t work because it’s not a film. It’s a video game. In fact if this was a film, it would be laughed out of every film festival. It’s cliched, boring, insulting and just plain stupid. Yes it’s unique, but unique doesn’t necessarily equate to good.

Five years later, Supermassive Games would adopt this style of storytelling for the truly brilliant Until Dawn and it works so much better because there is effort to actually tell a compelling story with relatable characters and to give your choices actual meaning and impact. Heavy Rain however just gets bogged down in its own pretentiousness, pouring scorn over the medium being used to tell the story without offering anything of substance to replace it. There’s a reason why people don’t talk about Heavy Rain anymore and it’s not because it’s a BAFTA award winning ‘game changer’.

[musikat18]

Face The Music (Bones x Reader)

For: Anon

Request:  hello! i love ur blog, was wondering if you could write a bones x musician!reader? tysm :)

Pairing: AOS Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy/Reader

Summary: You’re a comms officer with more than a few talents and an ongoing research project that has caught the attention of a certain medical officer who may have trouble facing the music about what he’s feeling.

Warnings: Language, mentions of divorce, a heaping case of self-doubt

A/N: I didn’t incorporate the musician aspect in the biggest way, so I apologize for that, but this 3787 word fic definitely has some sweet stuff to it that I’m proud of. I use lyrics from two songs that I’ve performed before: (the first)  Après Un Rêve by Gabriel Fauré, and (the second) Ah! si mon moine voulait danser, a French Canadian folk song.

There was something in the air on the bridge that Bones hadn’t really noticed before, which surprised him. For spending an inordinate amount of time breathing down Jim’s neck about safety on the job while on the bridge, he thought he’d noticed every little thing about the bridge-- the hum of the computers, the chatter between officers as they worked...this, though. This was completely unfamiliar.

“Dans un sommeil que charmait ton image….”

It wasn’t really a hum, but it might as well have been, with how soft the unfamiliar language was. He moved discreetly around the bridge, hoping to locate where it was coming from-- sure enough, it was near Uhura’s station.

“Was that you, Uhura?” he asked, making the lieutenant turn in confusion.

“Was what me?”

“I just thought I heard music from over here. It sounded good. Do all comms officers sound like that, or do you just use music to focus?”

Nyota shook her head, ponytail swishing behind her, “It wasn’t me. Y/N?”

Bones was definitely sure he hadn’t spent enough time on the bridge, because if he had, he would have remembered the prettiest comms red he’d ever seen in his Starfleet career.

“Nope...no idea where that came from,” you said, attention parted between the doctor and your station. “Though, I guess I can answer your question about comms officers, at least from my point of view. I mean, I like having music to focus. It’s why I keep these around for slow days,” you held up a pair of wireless earpieces. “They connect to my PADD and I can listen while I’m working...if there’s nothing too pressing, sir.”

“Hm...thanks, uh…?” he felt rude not attributing the information to your name.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N.”

“I brought her up here as an extra hand,” Uhura jumped back in. “We took a lot of our comms courses together at the Academy, she really knows what she’s talking about. Her thesis was actually on links between xenoneurology and audiology in cognitive study.”

“Impressive,” Bones bounced, hands folded behind him. “Even I try to stay away from brain stuff, when I can.”

“It wasn’t nearly anything special,” you smiled shyly, “I assure you.”

“No research is worthless, Lieutenant,” he said. Not untrue, in his opinion, though not how he would have liked to have spoken about a thesis he hadn’t even read. “Guess I should go back to making sure Jim doesn’t spontaneously combust, then.”

As the doctor wandered away from your station, you let out a soft breath.

“You know, I always thought you’d react a little more pleasantly to being praised in both research and talent by one of Starfleet’s hardest-to-please crewmen,” Nyota laughed. You rolled your eyes.

“Considering Dr. McCoy and I have no real reason to talk, I just didn’t think it mattered. Besides, do you know how embarrassing it is to get caught singing on the job?”

“You know I do,” she smiled, “but I’ve never seen him so...not completely murderous before.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Nyota,” you reminded her. “I’m sure he’ll be back to his grumpy old self, soon. Far, far away from my voice.”

“You sound lovely,” she chastised you. “Don’t be afraid of it.”

���Says someone with the actual voice of an angel.”

“Pot, kettle,” she smiled. “Besides, I’m not multitalented like you are.”

You shook your head, but you had a smile on your face, and you allowed yourself one little look over your shoulder to see if the doctor was still there; he seemed to have returned to medbay.

Part-relieved and part-disappointed, you continued humming your familiar tune.

--

The smooth timbor of notes filled your quarters as your fingers nimbly danced across your saxophone. You may not have had a lot of opportunity to work with it, anymore, (seeing as it was a little less portable than your larynx and lungs) but you still enjoyed playing every now and again.

You paused only a moment as the page moved along on your PADD, breathing in perfect time with the rests and the tempo. If you were going to be on that stressful bridge all day, after all, a practice in controlled breath seemed like a good idea. When the song was done, you sat back from your perch on your chair, satisfied with your solid (if rusty) performance.

And then you heard the knock at your door.

“Shit!” you said, quickly placing your saxophone back in your small closet space. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

When you opened the door, you leaned on the frame casually in hopes that you looked like you didn’t just hide one of your favorite pastimes (a thought that made you wince a little). To your surprise, there was a very tall, very handsome doctor on the other side.

“Doctor McCoy,” you greeted. “How may I help you?”

The doctor did that funny little bounce again, “Oh, nothing special. I was just wondering if that music was coming from in here.”

You blessed your prior research on the uses of inflection as you casually half-lied, “Oh, yes. Music for the focus. I don’t just use it for work, after all.”

“Yes, I figured you wouldn’t,” he nodded, quickly clarifying, “wouldn’t only use it for work, I mean. You probably use music to focus on all kinds of things.”

You stifled a laugh, “Yes, it’s my understanding that auditory association is just as effective as taste association. In my research, at least.”

“I know. I read your thesis. Lots of good stuff in there.”

You took a second to look down under the pretense of checking how clean your boots were (even though in reality you were just feeling bashful under the doctor’s whiskey gaze), “Thank you, Doctor. That’s quite the compliment, coming from you.”

“Yeah, I’d love to hear more about your research, sometime. I understand you’re primarily in audiological research instead of comm operations.”

“Yes, I am,” you nodded, laughing a little. “Did you get that from all my theses?”

He cleared up what you assumed was something in his throat, “...A little. I might have asked around after reading.”

To have the interest of anyone onboard would have been a miracle, but there was something about the doctor’s attentions that made you feel a little shyer than usual. “Well, the rumors are true. I spend about the same amount of time in blue as I do in red. I’ve got the uniforms to prove it.”

“Blue’s a good color,” he said. Be still your heart-- he actually grinned at you. Nyota would never believe it. “Well, if you’re looking to talk about your work, let me know sometime.”

“Sure,” you nodded. “Thank you, doctor.”

He showed himself out, and you were almost more excited about the conversation you’d just had than the excellent saxophone practice not a moment before he came in.

-

You felt more than a little miffed as you sat down in your lab space. Granted, you had felt miffed all day, but it had really been starting to set in after you had been straight up ignored.

He was busy, you were sure. But he certainly hadn’t been when you’d tried to speak with him.

You took a breath as you set up your equipment, deciding it would be best to not be completely pissy while operating auditory measurement equipment.

“Ah si mon moine voulait danser…” you sang quietly under your breath, hoping the jaunty tune would lift your spirits. It did, for the most part, and you had most of your equipment hooked up when Nyota came in.

“So, do you want to tell me why Geoffrey was talking with Christine about why McCoy decided to lock himself in his office grumbling a little more than usual?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” you huffed. “For someone so interested in my work, he seems rather evasive. Mixed signals, and all that. It doesn’t really sit well with me. ...Actually, it hasn’t for the last few weeks.”

“He’s abrasive, but not avoidant. Usually a lot more direct, actually. What happened?”

You swiveled on your stool as you sighed, “He said he was really interested in my work...liked that thesis I wrote. He seemed willing to talk about it a while ago, but every time I try, he makes up these fakey reasons not to talk about it. It’s been getting kind of frustrating for him to lie to my face. ...I might have...boiled over a little bit…earlier….”

Her eyebrows shot up, “Wow, and no scolding? He must like you or something.”

“Well, he has a funny way of showing it if he does,” you grumbled. “He told me my research was relevant to one of his medical studies, and now he’s acting like I’m one of the viruses they have stored up in the medbay for study!”

“At least he seems to feel kind of bad about it,” she offered. “Chris says he’s been in a sour mood.”

“If the captain is to be believed, he’s always in a sour mood.”

“More than usual,” she corrected. “Besides, Captain Kirk is Captain Kirk. He makes Doctor McCoy sour for all kinds of different reasons.”

Your shoulders sagged, “I just...if my work is worth something, I want to feel like it’s worth something. It’s like he was just trying to be nice...if it’s contradictory and flawed, I would rather he just come out and say it…. I don’t want all this work I’ve been continuing onboard to be worthless.”

She smiled kindly, “Let me talk to him about it. I’ll swing by his office after you finish up with me.”

Bless Nyota and her kindness, you thought with a smile.

“Thanks. Just put on that headset and I’ll start hooking up the monitors.”

-

McCoy had just finished lightly banging his head against his desk when his comm beeped. Seeing that it wasn’t Jim again, he set aside his self-loathing and answered, “McCoy.”

“Leonard, Nyota’s here and headed your way,” Chris warned on the other end. “She’s pissed and no one can stop her.”

Oh god, he was actually going to die.

“Thanks for the warning, Chapel,” he said. “Still have that copy of my will?”

“On hand now.”

“Nice knowing you.”

Not a moment later, the comms officer stood firm in the threshold of his office, looking unusually placid.

He knew the kind of ice Lieutenant Uhura could spit when one of her friends had been harmed. He was not eager to be on the receiving end.

“McCoy,” she nodded. “How’s Y/L/N?”

He coughed a little, “Haven’t had much chance to talk to her, lately.”

“That’s funny. She said she tried to talk to you earlier, and you apparently told her you would be busy checking the papers in your paperless office.”

Bones blanched. Not that he would have expected Nyota-- and Y/N, to boot-- not to catch him in his lie (Jim’s advice, to be fair), but he had kind of hoped it would have taken a little longer.

“I just...I think...I’m sure she’s busy. I don’t want to intrude on her research.”

Nyota put her hands on her hips, “Look, I can’t know what you said to her about her work, but she really appreciated your interest in it. Now she’s worried that you were just trying to be nice. I just want to figure out what’s going on so she doesn’t give up on it altogether. I know how hard she’s been working on it.”

“See, the thing is,” Bones took a long sip of his third cup of coffee, “I think...it might be different...if her research was the only...interesting thing about her.”

The comms officer furrowed her brow, “What do you…” The creases in her forehead smoothed out as her eyebrows sprung up, “Are you trying to say you like her?”

“You don’t have to act so surprised,” he grumbled. “It’s not that big a deal if you don’t make it one.”

“I didn’t realize,” she said, softening her tone. “I know you haven’t really had the best experience with romance in the past, but why act like this when it’s hurting her?”

“Thought it would be better if I stayed away,” he scratched the back of his neck. “Guess that’s not working out as well as I’d hoped.”

Nyota turned her frown down to the side. Of course he would be hesitant about this. She wasn’t unfamiliar with the doctor’s unlucky-in-love reputation, but to get your hopes up only to back out immediately after? That was just a poorly-calculated and unfair move.

“I guess the real question is, what are you going to do about it now?”

McCoy shifted in his desk chair before he turned to stand, pacing a little as he often did when formulating an idea.

“Her thesis…” he began slowly. “Where did she get all the instrumental sound samples she ran her experiment with?”

“Well,” Nyota looked to the side, “mostly the other students in the Academy Music Club. She wanted samples of music from all kinds of different Federation cultures to see if there was any variation, of course...the only ones she recorded herself were the Earth reed and Earth vocal samples.”

McCoy’s eyebrows quirked in that funny way they did, “Really?” He opened his PADD back open to his copy of the thesis, scrolling through the audio samples to ‘Earth reed’ and ‘Earth vocal.’ As each clip played through, he smiled at the passion and talent behind the sound.

“She’s incredible,” he said softly. “...I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Little bit,” Nyota shrugged. She was still for a moment, before she smiled genuinely, “but I think I know how you can fix it.”

-

You didn’t think much of the swishing door of your lab; you were too busy running the results of your latest tests in comparison to your thesis experiment.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N?”

Well, you hadn’t been thinking that much of it until you realized it was the doctor who had been avoiding you for a good few weeks.

“Doctor McCoy,” you turned and nodded simply, “to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“I wanted to say, first and foremost, that I do value your research,” he said. “It’s sound and well-done, and I can’t think of anyone outside maybe Spock who’s been so thorough and dedicated to their clearly solid hypothesis.”

You stood there, mouth agape.

“...A simple ‘you did good’ might have sufficed,” you said after a moment. You wished his sincerity hadn’t made you flutter, since he’d spent so long blatantly working to avoid you.

“I know that,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “but I know I made an ass of myself, acting the way I did. Uhura...was very clear that you were offended, and that wasn’t my intention at all.”

You shoved your face in your hands, “Oh, god, I thought she was just going to ask you what times you might actually be available to talk.”

“She was right, though,” he admitted. “It was rude of me. So I looked through your research, and I think it’s all great...though I think you missed out on an important sample kind of early.”

You blinked, “Sorry?”

“I mean,” he coughed awkwardly, “you did have an Earth vocal sample, though you didn’t account for possible differences in cadence and tone between upper range and lower range Earth voices.”

“...Oh,” you said, feeling a bit chastened. “I guess I wasn’t thinking about it at the time….”

McCoy passed you a small chip, “I had this made for you...to use in research and stuff.”

“Really?” you beamed with relief at the small gift. “That’s very kind of you, Doctor. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he dipped his head. “Just...let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be sure to be there this time.”

As McCoy turned from your lab, you smiled and turned over the small device in your hands, feeling squishy at the small, scrawly signed label on the side of the drive.

Yours truly, Leonard.

-

“Thanks for your help, Captain,” you said as you welcomed the blond-haired senior officer into your lab. “I greatly appreciate you volunteering to help me retry some of these initial trials.”

“Jim, please,” he gave you an amicable smile. “I’d be happy to help. I’ve heard lots of good things about your work.”

“From Doctor McCoy, I assume?” you laughed. “Apparently he’s become a big fan of my work.”

The captain chuckled, “Something like that.”

You passed the headset over to the captain as he sat down, and you placed the monitors on his skin once he placed the headset over his ears.

“Can you still hear me?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, so I’m going to play a series of minute-long music samples, from a variety of different instruments and a variety of different cultures,” you explained. “I may pause between a few and ask for a verbal statement on how the clip affected your mood, but most of the information I need will be picked up by those monitors. Sound good?”

He gave you a thumbs up, and you nodded, playing through the first clip: Earth vocal, upper tessitura.

You watched carefully as the mapping of the captain’s brain lit up in different colors at different times, seeming consistent enough with the first trials of human males you had ran. You tapped along with your stylus to your voice, ringing loud and clear for you to listen to and monitor what parts of his brain spiked when.

“This next sample is the new one,” you told Jim once the first minute was up. He nodded, and you queued the next clip: Earth vocal, lower tessitura. The sound clip was a little longer than a minute, but you were sure the reactions would settle at about 45 seconds like the others had before.

What happened next was not what you expected...at all.

“Hi, Y/N,” McCoy’s deep Southern drawl came from the speakers. “I guess you’re wondering why I’m not singing by now-- well, I’m terrible, actually, and you don’t want to hear that. I don’t want you to hear that, either, considering you sound like a damn angel...anyway, that’s not really what I wanted to talk about.”

“Is that Bones?” The captain asked. You were stunned, still reeling from the surprise of the doctor’s message.

“I talked a lot to Uhura before I did this, mostly because I wasn’t really sure how you’d react after I was such an ass for ignoring you like that. We both kind of decided that it was more important that I face the music-- so to speak, I guess, her words, not mine-- and tell you the truth.

“I was avoiding you because I...recently realized that I might have feelings for you...not just in a professional way. I thought you would be offended, got cold feet, and decided it would be better to forget the matter of you and your research because I didn’t want to scare you off. Well, that turned out to be really dumb, and I’m sorry.

“I thought a lot about just telling your straight to your face, but...how do I put this...I’m still trying to get back on the horse on this whole dating thing. I’m still trying to figure out what it means to put myself out there. So, I decided to put myself out there by putting myself on this tape. You don’t have to say anything. It actually might be better if you decided to just forget about all of this…”

Your heart broke for how discouraged he sounded.

“...but I like you. Probably more than I deserve. So I just wanted you to know.”

There was a long, pregnant pause when the recording ended. You hadn’t even looked up from the ‘play’ button on your PADD when he’d started speaking.

He liked you. He liked you, and he wanted to proceed with things. He liked you.

“...You should probably go talk to him.”

Your head snapped up at the captain’s sincere words, breaking you from your thoughts.

Without another word, you put your stylus and PADD down and took off for the turbolift.

-

McCoy hadn’t remembered being antsy like this in a long time.

This was a dumb idea, he thought. She’ll never ever listen to that tape and think-

“Sir, redshirt incoming,” one of the nurses called. McCoy turned and prepared for whatever scatter-brained engineer was going to be brought in, but to his surprised, you ran in the medbay doors, slowing only to scan the usual muted chaos for something.

“Y/N?” he furrowed his brow as your eyes fell on him. You continued your rush, moving towards him with purpose.

To his complete and utter surprise, you proceeded to grab him by the shirt and pulled his lips down to yours.

It took him a moment to realize he hadn’t fallen asleep in his office, but once he decided this was actually happening to him, he reciprocated quickly, cradling your cheek with one hand and holding the small of your back with the other.

For lack of a better term, it felt like the perfect harmony.

“...I take it you got my message,” he said, still looking a little dazed once you separated.

“I did,” you nodded, tilting your head sheepishly, “...so did the captain.”

McCoy groaned and hung his head, his cheeks matching your uniform, “Dammit...he’s never gonna let me hear the end of that.”

“I thought it was sweet,” you cupped his cheek, making him look at you, “although, you probably could have given me a heads-up that that file might have been something I listen to privately before queueing it up in a new series of tests.”

“Yeah,” he scrubbed a hand over his face, “I’ll take that one.”

“Anyway, would you like to meet for dinner in the mess after shift?”

There was nothing but relief and happiness in his whiskey eyes, “Dinner sounds perfect, darlin’.”

“Great,” you smoothed out his uniform shirt, remembering that you were both standing in the middle of medbay when you’d practically pounced on the chief medical officer. “I’ll see you later.”

McCoy waved you off with a rare public smile, eyes following you out until he felt familiar eyes on his back.

“What?” he frowned at Christine.

“I didn’t say anything,” she smirked. “Though, you may want to explain what just happened to the captain, now that he’s here.”

Bones should have been sour about the ribbing he was going to get, but there were far more sweet things on his mind.

Tagging: @skosmo @goingknowherewastaken @yallneedtrek @feelmyroarrrr @annathewitch @bsotstory @musicmandy1991

Requests are open!

[pickalilywrites]

Thank you for 500!

Ctrl + Alt + Delete

Jean Kirstein. Eren Jaeger. The Office AU. 

1543 words. 

Buy me a ko-fi!

It’s another peaceful day at Shiganshina Paper Company if you, like many of the employees, ignore the frustrated growls of Eren Jaeger as he continues to bang the side of his computer monitor with his hand. It is not all that uncommon to see Eren cursing at his computer for any reason at all regardless of whether or not it’s the computer’s fault or his own: not turning on fast enough, not being able to find certain files, or freezing. The computers at Shiganshina Paper Company are admittedly not the latest model and even the accountants in the office like Annie and Armin have computers that are not up-to-date, but it seems that Eren has the most trouble with his computer.

“Did you try – “

“Connie,” Eren says without waiting for Connie to finish his sentence. “If you ask me if I tried turning it on and turning it off again, I will kill you.”

Connie shuts up.

“Try hitting the computer part,” Sasha says, tapping the computer next to Eren’s chair with her foot. Like Connie, she had abandoned their station to observe Eren as he once again began to verbally abuse his “piece of shit computer.” It’s one of her favorite ways to pass the time. Sometimes she even brings food as if it’s a movie and Eren’s one of the actors. Right now, she’s eating a yogurt, licking some from the spoon before scooping some more out. “You’re just hitting the monitor right now, but maybe the problem is in your computer.”

“Good idea,” Eren says as Connie nods. He gives a decent kick to the computer – not hard enough to dent it but loud enough to make a big clang and have others in the office turn around to see what’s happening. All of them observe the computer and watch for any sort of change, but nothing happens. The screen is still a bright blue with a long error message in white text running across it.

“Did you try…opening task manager?” Connie says. He mimes the keys – control, alt, delete – but Eren only shakes his head.

“I don’t even know what that is.”

Sasha bends down and squints at the tiny text on Eren’s screen, frowning. “Hey, have you ever tried reading this? It says you could try doing a bunch of these things here.” She points to a few of them but Eren only warily shakes his head.

“I’d probably only make things worse even if they give me instructions,” he mutters as he slumps back in his chair, defeated. He glances at the clock in the office about Mina’s desk and sighs. “I called Marco over to come fix it, so maybe I can get some work done today. I’ve already lost an hour over this.”

“It’s probably good that you called him instead of just trying to fix this yourself,” Connie says. He’s most likely thinking about the time last month where Eren had thrown his monitor across the room and smashed it against the wall after his computer refused to function properly because Eren had forgotten to update some of the software.

While everyone else has gone back to their work, the three of them continue to stare at Eren’s blue screen before a young freckled man walks in.

“Hey, Mina,” Marco says cheerfully to the receptionist before making his way to Eren’s desk. Even though Mina is the only one he’s greeted by name, others in the office turn to wish him a good morning and wave at him, their faces lighting up after seeing him even though they don’t need their computers fixed. They’re all just happy to see him.

Although he’s been the IT guy for years, they hadn’t really noticed him until Levi had become their manager and forced them to take a few basic computer classes from Marco to make online sales more efficient. Although they were determined to hate him solely because he was a part of Levi’s mandatory lessons, they found him to be a valuable new member of their team and Eren found him especially useful during problems like these.

“Oh, thank God,” Eren sighs. He rolls his chair to the side so that Marco can have a better look at his screen. “Can you do anything about this? It’s been like this since I got here this morning and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Hm.” Marco begins to tap on a few keys here and there as Sasha and Connie and Eren lean over and try to see what he’s doing. After a while, he turns to smile at Eren. Even though the screen is still that alarming blue color, his smile is somehow comforting to Eren. If Marco doesn’t have a solution now, Eren is confident he’ll come up with one soon. If there’s anyone in the office that can fix this, it’s Marco. “I think I can have it up and running in a few minutes. Why don’t you go grab something to eat or relax in Connie and Sasha’s cubicle? I’m sure you’re sick of looking at this.”

“Ah, is that really okay?” Eren says hesitantly.

“It’s fine,” Marco assures him, waving him off with a smile. “I work better when I’m alone anyway.”

“Come on, come on,” Sasha says, already grabbing Eren excited by the arm. It’s not often that people goof off anymore because of how strict Levi is as a boss. Sasha and Connie can get it away with it most of the time because their cubicle is separated from most of the office in the back and you need to go through the lobby to get there. It gives them the freedom to do almost anything they want, but it gets lonely for them after a while. “We’ve started making smoothies! The blender’s a little loud, but Hanji doesn’t mind as long as we make a peanut butter oreo smoothie for them too.”

“Okay, okay,” Eren laughs, allowing Sasha and Connie to drag him away. He turns back to give Marco one last grateful smile. “Thanks again, Marco!”

“No problem,” Marco laughs, looking away quickly.

In the conference room, Jean smiles smugly at the camera. “Did I do something to Eren’s computer?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t even try to hide his widening grin. Settling back in his chair, he says, “Yeah, I did. But it’s nothing too impressive. It’s just easy to pull off because Eren hates computers so much. I don’t even know how he made it into the twenty-first century. If you’re worried about the blue screen of death thing, don’t. It’s not real. I just went into a website that would imitate it to freak Eren out since I knew he’d never be too stupid to tell the difference. This isn’t even the first time I’ve pulled a computer prank on him.”

The camera moves away from Jean’s face for a while and focuses instead on the window, zooming in so that Marco can be seen working hard on restoring Eren’s computer.

“Oh, he’s in on it too,” Jean says. Even though he had previously said it wasn’t a difficult prank to pull, you can tell that he’s pretty proud of it. He stretches, pulling his arms up above his head before resting them behind his head. “I didn’t think he’d be able to lie, but he’s pretty decent at it after a while.”

Outside, Marco finishes “fixing” Eren’s computer, calling him back. Eren’s so grateful that he gives Marco an enthusiastic hug while Marco laughs with a guilty look on his face. He pats Eren’s back awkwardly and shuffles away in a hurry but not before making a brief stop in the conference room.

“You probably want this now,” Marco says, face flushed from lying to Eren earlier. He sighs and tosses something to Jean who catches it easily in his hands.

“Awesome, thanks!” Jean says with a grin. He sets the thing down on his knee and it’s revealed to be a mouse. He waves at Marco as he watches him leave. “Thanks, Marco! I owe you one.”

“I’m never doing this again,” Marco mutters as the door shuts behind him.

Jean says nothing as he fiddles around with the mouse, instead moving it around on his hand, using his palm as a flat surface. It’s not until the camera moves in that he realizes that hasn’t explained (at least what seems like) his next prank.

“Oh, this?” Jean says with a lopsided smile. “It’s a wireless mouse. Watch this.”

Jean points at a crack in the blinds, motioning for the camera to zoom in and focuses on Eren who’s trying to use his own mouse. No matter how Eren moves his mouse, the cursor doesn’t follow his movements. Unknown to him, the cursor’s movements are actually being controlled by Jean in the conference room. When it seems as though the cursor is finally working for Eren, he breathes a sigh of a relief…only to have the cursor move in the exact opposite direction and open a game of solitaire.

Eren lets out a scream like a tortured animal and Jean sighs, sitting back and closing his eyes as he relishes the sound.

“Music to my ears,” Jean smiles.

[nacksgameshack]

A Look at the AtGames Sega Genesis Flashback HD

For many out there, the term AtGames, will leave quite a bitter taste in your mouth, and you know who you are. To put it blunt and over the top as possible, AtGames are considered by many as the one of the worst things ever to come on God’s green Earth. 

I’m sure even some people will spit on it and then light it up with a lighter they got from the dollar store if they’re feeling an extra bit melodramatic, or of course just want to use their products to roast some crispy and delicious marshmallows, yum indeed, problem is, I don’t really ever eat marshmallows since they more or less just give me severe headaches, and most of the time I just prefer to sit back with a nice cold beverage like a Pepsi, this boy doesn't drink for sure, and just enjoy life as it was intended, without of course lighting a console on fire, I would not recommend something like that, if anything, I’d rather just light up some twigs and throw them at the neighbors to give them a scare. Anyways, for those who don’t know who or what an AtGames is, like seriously what is an AtGames? Well it’s not really a what more as it’s a who, in this case, it’s a company, that is mainly known for distributing licensed aftermarket plug and play consoles in North America and I guess Europe too, that may I add pretty much always dwindle down to either early Sega (Master System or Genesis) consoles and old-school Atari, with of course these being emulated, now many of these releases are more than just simple plug and plays, and some of them might I add are quite unique in fact, in a similar fashion to the huge flood of Master System rereleases that are still seen even today in Brazil from Tectoy, with AtGames, you’re going to notice that there are alot of different models and all of them like many aftermarket consoles have their own flaws that usually, especially in AtGames’s case end up being huge turn offs for a consumer, yet each model does have pluses in their own little way I guess you could argue. Regardless I’m not trying to say AtGames is a terrible company, or a great one either, most of the problems people will say about their older Genesis plug and plays and portables (yes, you heard me right they have a few portable variations of what is pretty much a mini Sega Nomad with SD card support) is the audio, and quite honestly the reputation for their poor audio, is definitely something that isn’t over-exaggerated, if you’re an audio nerd, someone who deeply cares about the accuracy of how your audio is being emulated, let me just say I do not recommend getting any of their older model consoles, or even portable for that matter, especially to note with the portable, is that if you keep it just a tad bit too high, you even have a chance of blowing out the speaker. 

Now, just for some clarity, the Console that I’m going to be reviewing today, hands-on first experience I guess, is actually quite a new piece of hardware, it is a 2017 model of the latest console released by AtGames, The Sega Genesis (or Mega-Drive) Flashback HD, which yes does feature HDMI support! This console, just from the trailer is boasted to be a huge if not entire overhaul of AtGames trying to clear their bad reputation and create something that many gamers will cherish and hold onto, or atleast have fun playing without the audio blasting your ear canals and making them bleed, but a promise really doesn't mean anything unless there is real action and improvement involved along the way. 

But let’s start from the basics, first off, you will notice that unlike the other variations of the Genesis consoles, this one is actually built to resemble an actual Genesis model, and fortunately even the best looking Genesis model in my opinion anyway, the Model 1. The console itself just from the looks department does sport many similarities with it being based on the Model 1′s shell design, yet also is much tinier and better compared in size to the model 3 Genesis than the model 1 or 2. One thing to be noted about this console is that, it is often compared to the NES Mini and SNES mini, and a reason for this, is because, well not only does it boast to have numerous built in games, 81 in fact, which well we’ll discuss that amount a little later, but it also does appear as said earlier, as a miniature Model 1 design, similar in fashion to the Mini Nintendo consoles, the Flashbacks also happen to have been originally released a wee bit after the NES Mini’s debut on the market. I personally haven’t touched a NES Mini or SNES Mini, so I wont do any real comparisons, rather for now, I’ll just focus on the Flashback itself and what it brings to the table of the home consumer market.

Now I've talked a little bit about the design of the console, and before I go into actually playing the thing, let me just say, when I bought this product, I wasn't expecting much from it, my expectations were quite low, from being a consumer who has gone through two AtGames Genesis consoles, I wasn't exactly disappointed with them, as for what it was, the price was a decent price, yet I did go ahead and just took them back anyways, as I just went ahead and preferred to just keep the money instead of just keeping the console, silly I suppose, but as someone who has experienced and can see why so many people are not a fan of these consoles, my expectations, as I stated were a bit on the lower side, I wasn't expecting the Flashback to compare to anything like the official Sega Genesis, but I will say that just from the super nice packaging and actually quite decent build quality of the console, already I’m quite impressed with what I have, it’s honestly kind of cool having anything miniature right? Especially something that has BLAST PROCESSING! The Console doesn't feature volume control nor does it feature a headphone jack like the real Model 1, but it’s only expected for corners to be cut, nor are such things on the original hardware even really viable to me personally as a consumer. Alls I really want is something that plays nice, and that’s what we all really want, but of course I will say this right off the bat, a huge plus of this console already is just how it looks and how it feels. The two wired and wireless (yeah, that’s alot of controllers, tell me about it *phew) controllers that you get when you purchase the console all feel great, and interestingly enough, the wireless controllers actually have two extra buttons in the middle for rewinding the game you’re playing for roughly six seconds, giving yourself a second chance at a game, or just looking at some slick moves you pulled, and also bringing up a menu that goes back to the interface of the Flashback, which yes, the Flashback does feature an interface, but I’ll talk about that a little later, the only real downside of the controllers I can say is that I’ve heard the 3-pad Genesis controllers are not compatible with the system, not just the interface, but the system entirely, that may have been fixed in a newer firmware update, but as far as I’m aware, for what I have, they do not work, only 6-button pads work on the console, which in retrospective, is not a total lost as you can still at the very least of course play games on the console with the controllers they give you, or one of your old 6-pad controllers, even though, they honestly feel just as good as the older 6-pad controllers. Overall I’d say the build quality, presentation, and design of the Flashback from a physical point of view looks quite stellar for a aftermarket console.

Alot of times, the main attraction of these aftermarket consoles is that they’re generally much cheaper than real hardware, with of course cons because of that, and alot of times, they even feature built in games, or rather some simply not only feature built in games, but they even upscale them without having to spend ridiculous amounts of money just to upscale your original hardware. Currently, as what I've seen Flashbacks usually go for around $70 USD currently, and you have to think, not only does this console promise a multitude of games, it features four controllers, a Model 1 reinvented design with some changes of course for good or worse, and even an HDMI output, something that the original Genesis would not normally support. So is this console really worth such a high price? Or is this really just a waste of money? Well before I say anymore about that, let me talk about what you’re getting yourself into behind just the little shell and controllers that are nice and pretty. The Genesis Flashback features a large amount of games, promised to be 81 built-in, which at a further glance should be noted, that not every game on here is a Genesis game, as some games in fact happen to be (another new addition to the Flashback besides pretty HD quality, time travel powers, and other things) Master System and Game Gear titles, of course the two sharing the same hardware, and the Power Base Converters existence being a thing, it only makes sense for them to add such games to the library, now there are not many of course, only a few like Fantasy Zone and Sonic Chaos, but atleast for me anyway, they’re actually quite a really nice addition that I actually really enjoy and am glad to see there, the console does feature a few other non Genesis games, that are just strange old homebrew titles, but luckily there’s only a few so it wont clutter the library, or really affect it too heavily, as in my opinion, for what you get, it does feature quite a nice library of games, from the obvious Sonic the Hedgehog titles, to some Alex Kidd games, and even the Mortal Kombat series. The Flashback also has quite a decent support of RPG games built in if that’s your goto, and what’s very cool about the console itself, is that you can actually play cartridge games on the console, as it does feature a cartridge slot, only making it even more like it’s big brother, the Model 1. In order to access any of these actual games though, you are taken to the interface of the Flashback, and while to many people it’s not really cited as anything stellar, it does what it should, and there is a bit of input lag once in awhile, and the layout requires the trigger pads, rather than the d-pad for browsing, which yes, is quite strange, it still at the end of the day does look quite pretty as you do get to see alot of nice old cover art from classic Genesis and even a few Master System titles. Now the games themselves, as far as I’ve seen and played, they all run quite well and the sound is pretty much on point atleast in terms of emulation. There is a bit of noticeable staggering or choppiness in some games like Sonic the Hedgehog, but when you’re busy enjoying the game, it shouldn't bother you too much. The games have sometimes frozen on me, but with a clear reset, they work again, and with the new addition of save states and rewinding, it does avoid soft locks quite a bit. There is quite a huge negative about the Flashback though when it comes to cartridge games, is that some games will not work at all, unless of course you modded your Flashback to play such games. Simply put, games like Sonic 3 and Knuckles will not work with Sonic 3 attached, as the console will pick up both cartridges and show both on the screen as to either choose from Sonic 3 or Knuckles, which yes, totally removes the lock on features you could get from any Genesis Sonic title that is normally compatible. Now previously mentioned with modding and taking a dangerous risk with your Flashback, you can manually add games with a micro SD, and some games that wont normally run off a cartridge can run, if it’s loaded from the system, there have even been some people who have installed retroarch on the system and enabled it to not only play Sega CD titles, with a micro SD of course, but also 32X titles like Knuckles Chaotix and the god awful Spiderman Web of Fire, actually you know what that seems awfully mean to shred on that game, I tell you what I need to give that game a try again and just see how well it fits into my modern day brain, maybe even review if I actually have motivation for such an awfu- I mean uh Sega 32x game.

With all of this mentioned, does the Flashback hold up to it’s 70 dollar price? Well besides some compatibility and minor graphical issues, I’m perfectly happy with the thing, as someone who can’t afford to collect Genesis games, this is quite a nice alternative for me, and I’d say it is for anyone in the same boat. Now for the adventurous and vanilla types, or rather just even collectors, it is of course better to just go ahead with a real Sega Genesis, as that is of course going to have the best compatibility as it is the real hardware and no emulation problems will be found. They’re also sold in a multitude of models and support addons, so if you’re into collecting that, then go for it, but say if you just want a budget hd console that can play Sega Genesis games as they were intended, well while I can’t say this does it entirely 100 percent accurate, I can say, that for the most part, all the games on this console play perfectly fine, and it is a much cheaper alternative than to just buying a real Genesis, as it also doesn't feature a region lock, unlike the real Genesis and Mega-Drive hardware. With all considered of the console, despite the flaws, I would say that this console is something that you should keep your eyes out for, if you are looking to play Genesis games on your HDTV for an affordable cost, and if you want it to come with a bunch of games of course aswell, and as I said earlier, it does feature quite a bit of controllers and two controllers ports, so if you ever have someone come over, the Flashback already has got you covered. I’d say just go for the thing, hell I got mine used on Ebay for about 50 dollars, which was probably a stupid idea in hindsight, and it definitely did lower my expectations even further then it just being an AtGames product, but with that said, despite it being used, despite it being an AtGames product, it still stands out as quite a very good aftermarket mini console, that is very much worth your time if you want something affordable, and also compact that plays Sega Genesis titles.

[droneseco]

Keychron Q1 Wired 75% Mechanical Keyboard Review: The Hotswap Mechanical Keyboard for Perfectionists

Keychron Q1

8.80 / 10

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An excellent keyboard by any standard.

Key Features

Tenkeyless

All metal construction

QMK and VIA compatibility

Gasket-mounted plate

Specifications

Brand: Keychron

Wireless: No

Backlight: RGB SMD

Media Controls: Yes

Num Pad: No, TKL

Switch Type: Gateron Phantom

Replaceable Keys: Modular hotswap

Pros

Stable and solid typing

Outstanding build quality

Ultra heavy base

Programmable keys and backlight

Cons

Expensive

Not travel friendly

Not wireless

Extremely thick

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As a veteran keyboard builder, I love the $169 Keychron Q1 75% ten-keyless (TKL) keyboard. Its near-perfect typing experience dominates the competition. While it's not right for those who need ergonomics and Bluetooth, it's perfect for typists who don't need a ten-key keypad.

Is the Keychron Q1 Mechanical Keyboard Right for You?

While wowing me with its marvelous and muted typing experience, the Q1 isn't without flaw.

If you're looking for the heaviest 75%, modular, hot-swap keyboard, it's the best in its class. But for those of you looking for ergonomics or wireless, there are more suitable options. A strong candidate that covers ergonomics and wireless is the Kinesis Freestyle2, a split mechanical keyboard.

Who Are Keychron?

Before I get into the pros and cons, you might want to know more about the company behind the Q1. Keychron is a newcomer to the mech market with a reputation for quality. Its first designs focused on products for the Mac. But it's since moved on to building general-use keyboards.

The Keychron Q1 is their newest flagship product, this time catering to the high-end, enthusiast market. Their selling point here isn't just hotswap sockets. Keychron has distinguished itself from the competition with an ultra-heavy case. To my knowledge, this is one of the heaviest 75-key keyboards ever made and probably one of the most gravity-challenged keyboards of 2021, period.

Although gasket-mounted plates, and other typist-oriented features, appear in multiple keyboards, such as the Mojo68, the Rama Works Kara, and the Ikki68 Aurora, I haven't seen them paired with heavier framed designs. Considering that gaskets reduce the shock of bottoming out, I'm surprised to not see them used with keyboards designed for stability. Potentially a heavy case, gasket mounts, and Poron could mean the triple crown for a stable typing platform. To date, no keyboard combines those three components.

Hardware Specifications

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Dimensions: 145 x 327.5 x 21.6 mm

Weight: ~1,600 grams

Plate: 6063 Aluminum

Switch type: Barebones or Gateron Phantom Red, Phantom Blue, Phantom Brown

Ports: USB Type-C (USB-C)

Case material: 6063 Aluminum

Case colors: Carbon Black, Space Gray, Navy Blue

Sockets: Kailh Hotswap

Keycaps: Double-shot ABS, top-key legends

Cable: Black, detachable, braided, coiled USB-C

Extras: Keycap puller, switch puller, extra "Poron" material, additional keys for macOS, optional rotary encoder

Modular Hotswap Sockets and Gateron Phantom Switches

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Keychron offers three default keycaps to go with the latest Gateron Phantom series switches. To be honest, I can't tell the difference between the Phantom series and the Ink series (I reviewed the Ink series in 2020). Both have the same weights, actuation curves, and colored transparent switch housings. A more relevant comparison would be to compare regular 2021 Gaterons to the Phantom switches. In my initial testing, the difference seems to be the Phantoms are smoother. My guess is that Gateron used lower friction plastic or lubricant.

Keychron Q1 Teardown

A teardown of the Q1 reveals several innovative design features. My favorite is the ability to customize the specific level of shock absorption of the keyboard. But aside from that, there are three other components that Keychron used to great effect.

Poron Gasket-Mounted Plate

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Gasket-mounted plate designs float the plate, PCB, and switches on top of a series of Poron-foam gaskets. Whenever you type, the gasket depresses, softening each keypress. Typing hard enough causes the entire plate to drop a millimeter or two. The effect causes a reduction in the harshness of bottoming a key out. Although the keycaps are not silenced, gaskets also chop down on typing sounds. That's because a special advantage of Poron over other kinds of foam is that it exhibits extreme energy muffling properties.

However, the substance that Keychron refers to as Poron looks and feels exactly like neoprene. I'm not sure whether Keychron used Poron on the inter. Then there's a denser layer of a kind of urethane foam that also appears to be a Poron layer. This layer pads the interior of the aluminum case.

Keychron included extra Poron in its kit. If you want, you can increase the amount of Poron between the plate and the base. However, I found that this actually increased the sensation of bottoming out of keys. After some experimentation, I found that fewer pieces of Poron improve the comfort of hard key presses.

Screw-In Stabilizers Vs. Plate-Mounted Stabilizers

The biggest source of rattle and noise production on a keyboard is oftentimes the space bar. Different keyboard stabilizer types cause different kinds of problems though. Costar stabilizers are easier to remove but suffer from stability and noise issues. Cherry stabilizers produce less rattle but are difficult to service. Screw-in stabilizers offer the best of both. They produce less noise, are super stable, and aren't difficult to service.

Typing on the Q1's space bar feels, to overuse a word, solid. While screw-in stabilizers demonstrate a tremendous amount of side-to-side wiggle, the opposite is true of their typing stability. They are enormously stable, thanks to the fact that they are literally screwed into the motherboard. I suspect, though, that space bar removal is a big advantage here. It appears that the stabilizer's play allows for space bar removal from extreme angles. So you can pull it without the risk of damage to the keycap. I can't help but feel that screw-in stabilizers are the future of high-end keyboard design.

Poron Layer

Poron looks and feels like neoprene on first inspection. But pushing my finger into the material reveals the difference: Poron seems more durable and resistant compared to neoprene. Rather than yielding to touch as neoprene would, Poron feels almost solid and inflexible. I've read that there are different formulations of Poron, some offering consistency equivalent to neoprene.

The functional use of Poron on the base seems to further stabilize typing. I can't imagine there's a more stable typing machine out there.

Thick Aluminum Base

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Another interesting feature Keychron's use of a weighted aluminum base. The base by itself weighs in at 872 grams, which is only 94 grams less than my steel-plate Varmilo VB87M 87-key keyboard. In other words, the base alone weighs more than a larger, steel-plated keyboard. The full keyboard weighs 1,623 grams, almost double my Varmilo.

The extremely heavy base makes for a stable, solid typing experience. Personally, I dislike the feel of metal-plate keyboards for touch typing. Because aluminum and steel are such great conductors of vibrations, you tend to feel on your other fingers whenever you strike a keycap. However, Keychron's approach here was to dampen each keypress while maintaining the solidity of a metal plate. The end result is solid and stable typing.

Lots of Customization Options

Keychron includes customization options for the case and switches. In future, two bare-bones models will be made: ISO and ANSI. At launch, though, only the case color and switches are customizable. The case colors include black, dark blue, and gray. As mentioned earlier, the switch options are a bit more interesting as they cover Gateron's latest switches: Phantom Red, Phantom Blue, and Phantom Brown.

QMK/VIA Support

The ultimate customization option is the ability to reprogram the keyboard from top to bottom. QMK or VIA can do just that, although it requires understanding how to flash your keyboard with firmware. It's not hard but there's a slight learning curve.

While I don't use VIA and have no familiarity with it, I am familiar with QMK. It's not hard to use, particularly if you're already familiar with flash ATMega32 processors. Those of you who have unlocked the bootloader of an Ender 3 will know what I mean.

But for those who do like to create their own custom layouts and color schemes, Keychron published their Q1 QMK source code on GitHub. The broad compatibility with QMK is probably because it uses an ATMega32 microchip, which is one of the most common processors used on QMK-supported keyboards. It's also commonly seen on 3D printers and other consumer electronics.

Backlighting and Animation Effects

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The animation effects are about what you would expect on a high-end keyboard. The Q1 uses RGB SMDs instead of LEDs so there's a tremendous amount of color variation, like on all RBG backlit keyboard. However, it's worth noting that can set custom colors using QMK Configurator, so if you need a particular shade, that's possible. On top of that, there are numerous animations, including several multi-hued, rainbow-like variations.

While the backlight looks good, Keychron's standout feature is how they combined front-facing lighting with transparent switch housings. The combination allows for more intense animation effects, since the light is visible from the portion of the keyboard that faces the typist. However, while this is an interesting visual, I'd have preferred shine-through keycaps with front-printed lettering.

What's Not Good?

While great, not everything is perfect with the Keychron Q1.

No Function Layer Markings

Something I found irritating on the Q1: there are nonfunction layer markings on the keycaps. Because there's no documentation, this led to a lot of guesswork as to how to control backlights.

Expensive For a Keyboard in This Class

While $169 isn't the most expensive 75% keyboard, it's also a fair bit more expensive than the competition in this particular market segment. Razer, for example, sells a wired 75% for under $100. And while Razer's 75% isn't nearly as nice, $69 is enough to buy another low-end mechanical keyboard, such as the Vissles V84.

Front-Facing Lighting Paired with Top-Printed Legends

LED lighting scheme is designed for front-lit shine through keycaps.

That's partly by design as the keycaps aren't shine-through. The goal was to use a semi-transparent switch housing to allow for various visual effects.

No Capslock Status Indicator

Most keyboards include some kind of indicator that capslock is turned on. The Q1 doesn't provide any hint that you might be accidentally yelling at your friends and family over email.

The Future Will Mean Lower Prices

Gasket-mounted plates, screw-in stabilizers, and dampening material like silicone and Poron are the future. While the Keychron might seem like a good deal today at $169, next year there will be similar options for less money.

Should You Buy the Keychron Q1?

If you're looking for a high-end typist's keyboard, the Keychron Q1 beats the keycaps off the overpriced Razer BlackWidow. But if you want an ergonomic or wireless keyboard, look elsewhere.

For those looking for a low-cost hot-swap alternative, I suggest the Glorious Modular Mechanical Keyboard. The GMMK offers the same modular hot-swap design with a focus on entry-level keyboard enthusiasts.

Keychron Q1 Wired 75% Mechanical Keyboard Review: The Hotswap Mechanical Keyboard for Perfectionists published first on http://droneseco.tumblr.com/

[sileeeles]

S9+ Review

Visually stunning. Amazing camera. Amazing screen. But as they say, looks aren't everything.

You will noticed that I mention and compare to HTC a lot, and this is because that its my only other point of reference. Its all I’ve had, Android wise, for the past 4 years.

So, mostly in order of things you encounter, I shall try to share my thoughts and feelings. First of all the size. Its fairly large. For people with dinky fingers/hands, I wouldn’t recommend it, I’d go with the regular S9. But the S9+ is perfect for me as I have larger hands and stubby fingers. I’ve always struggled on 4 inches or less especially with typing, I’ll come to that later. The main noticeable difference between the two is the camera setup. Beyond that the S9+ has a slightly larger battery capacity and 2 more gigabytes of ram over the S9.

One of the main things I thought would bug me, is the screen. The rounded corners. Which, overall, costs you 0.1 of an inch of screen real estate. And it hasn’t bothered me at all. Its rather cool and interesting. More interesting than that is the odd aspect ratio. 18:5.9. The .9 apparently accounts for the curvature of the glass at the sides. Which is another thing I thought would bug me. My wife didn’t get the S7 Edge because she thought the curves would be annoying, but these are more subtle and ... less curvy than those models. And it hasn't really been an issue. Sometimes (usually on badly optimized websites and a few pictures) the text spills over the edge no matter what you do, but turning the phone landscape usually makes everything visible. Apps and games all tend to scale themselves to whatever they work best at, but you can have them be full-screen if you wish. It warns you that some apps may no work or behave well when forced into full-screen, but thus far I’ve never had an issue.

The phone has a headphone socket (thank god) and has basically ripped off what HTC was doing with Boomsound. And more specifically, what they were doing with the HTC 10. You see, the Boomsound speakers that were part of the M7/M8/M9 were gone on the HTC 10. At the time (I had an M8), it was like a revelation. Why on earth wouldn't ALL smartphone manufacturers do this? Many of them, including Samsung, put the speaker on the back of the phone which was often muffled by your hand when you were holding it. HTC changed that, although rather than having the two speakers on the HTC 10, they opted to have one at the bottom of the phone, and used the earpiece speaker for the other. It worked, although something was lost in translation. It sounded good, and still a lot better than many of the other phones around at the time,but it never really had clear or consistent stereo or sound. Maybe because the down-firing speaker did the mids and lows, and the earpiece speaker did the highs, which were mostly just tinny and quiet. Rather than just the one speaker now, Samsung has seemingly copied HTC’s effort and used exactly the same system. However, it sounds infinitely better. The sound from it is very clear stereo, at times almost like it surrounds you. Partly, I assume, down to the Dolby Atmos/AKG tuning (which also includes some very nice and good sounding headphones in the box). As far as I know, HTC has not included Dolby in their phones since the Desire HD which also had SRS (and was my preferred sound setting).

We’ve also switched to USB C (also present on the S8/S8+) which is a much welcome improvement. In my experience it has been far more reliable and less damageable than Micro USB ever was, indeed after two years the USB C port on my HTC 10 is still going strong.

The physical buttons are something that will undoubtedly become a point of contention, largely because of the Bixby button. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not bothered by Bixbys existence. By and large, you can just disable it and ignore the fact that it was ever there. But the button was placed stupidly. Directly below the volume buttons, particularly on the S9+ where there is a tad more reaching for things, meant that I was pressing it. A lot. Which is a problem. Because initially I disabled Bixby all together. But I didn't really want the button to go to waste. So I searched, and as you would imagine I wasn’t the only one wanting to re-map it. And someone has helped with that, they created an incredibly useful app called bxActions. Which I mapped to the Camera. But of course the same thing kept happening. I pressed the button by accident, and the camera kept popping up. So I disabled it again, and had it play/pause audio when the screen was off. Yes, I do know that there are features like double press and long press, and perhaps it is worth using those instead. However, they are “pro” features you need to pay for.

The home button and hardware touch keys are gone. Replaced instead with Androids navigation bar (which is re-mapable by default so you can put the buttons the right way around). The home key is pressure sensitive (what they call 3D Touch which sounds more like an Apple thing). I’ve not really needed to use it, to be honest, or understand what its for. If the phone is locked, you can press the home key (if you can find it) instead of the power button, which takes you to the lock screen and whatever method of security you happen to have (iris of whatever). But I can bypass needing to do any of that by just using my fingerprint. Which is what I tend to do, beyond the “hey look at this, my phone unlocks when I look at it” novelty. I’m also incredibly aware with this phone that it has the potential to get screen burn in. This increases exponentially with things that are on the screen for longer periods of time than others. Such as the navigation bar. What would lower that risk, is having the position of the symbols move a pixel or so from where it was last time, each time the phone is active or each time the navigation bar is on screen.

The phone, like the models before it including the s6/s7 has a glass back. But in Samsung's case, there is a reason for it extending all the way back to those models as well. How big a reason that is, ultimately, is down the the individual user. And I imagine, most of the individual users would rather they didn't have something that was breakable. As if the front of the phone wasn't already enough of a risk for that. The reason for it is Wireless charging. If you’re like me, nothing will ever beat the cable, and wireless charging is fiddly at best. You need to get it in the right spot, and from what I’ve seen, it was never really that fast. Certainly not as fast as the fast charger.

Using the phone is, at this point, pretty intuitive. If you’ve used Android for long enough, you know where everything is and how everything works. Software wise, there is not much that you can moan about. There is, overall, less bloatware and what there is, most of it can be uninstalled. Samsung wise, their layout of things is a little ... oddly arranged but you get used to it. At this point its pretty close to the way HTC was laying things out.

One thing that does bug me though, is that there is a lot of content they will charge you for. Such as themes. HTC never had such a system, indeed you could create and customize pretty much each area that you wanted. Wallpaper, lock-screen, app background, icons, ringtones, even the background of sms messages. Whilst Samsung themes will do this, there is no option to create each one individually yourself, and there is no way (at least that I’ve found) where you can apply individual items from certain themes. For instance if I only want the icons, I can’t do that. I need to install the whole theme and the re apply my wallpaper and ringtone afterwards etc. Another thing is the warning you get when you turn the volume up so far. I don't need it every time, yes I know its not sensible, its never for very long, go away! Its as bad as the Netflix "Are you still watching?" Yes. And my controller turned off two episodes ago and is over the other side of the room! Go away!

One thing I have been using that I would normally have ignored, largely because it was already there and I wanted to explore, is Samsung Health (which was previously just called S Health). It will allow you to track a variety of things, including steps every day, excersize, heart rate and stress (there are sensors in the phone that include this, which is pretty normal for Samsung). It even allows you to track sleep, and even has the ability to keep track of blood sugar levels and such for diabetics.

A few of the packaged defaults I have changed. For instance the keyboard. There is nothing wrong, or that I found wrong, with the default Samsung keyboard. I am just far to used to Swiftkey, and my defaults within that, so I installed that. It has a one handed mode just like the Samsung default, so it makes it easier to type with one hand. Also the music player I have used, and will probably always use on Android is PowerAmp. Also use Chrome as well.

The camera is probably the most interesting thing about the phone at this point. It was the most heavily marketed aspect of it (because, ultimately, I suspect there isn't much different from the S8+). Whilst everything thats included in it is, at this point, nothing new ... well, except the variable F-stop, maybe, its the way it has been implemented that is cool. More so on the S9+ with the extra telephoto lens. I was an avid user of the slow motion on the HTC 10 (and the M8 I had before it) and for the S9/S9+ to have that in a supercharged way, is very fun for me, although they aren’t the first to include 960FPS. That honour goes to the Sony Xperia XZ I believe.

The always on display is cool, although I’ve found that, honestly, id rather have it off than have it on, and if I have it on, the design I’d choose is the edge one. Thankfully the risk of burn in from this is minimal, as it changes position and never stays in one place too long.

Beyond the phone, some of the extras that I have found to be useful are the adapters included in the box. Specifically the Micro USB to USB C adapter. Because, more than once I’ve forgotten my charger, and nowhere (at least nowhere cheap) seems to have USB C cables for sale. They’re all bloody Micro USB. This adapter means that I needn’t worry if I forget my charger again. I just go into poundland and buy a cable. You also get the standard OTG adapter in the box. Samsung's intended purpose for this, I believe, is for you to connect your old phone to it and copy over your content. But it has many more uses beyond that including game controllers, even charging up other devices and connecting USB sticks to your phone.