#but hoo buddy do I miss the other three

[centaurianthropology]

Team ??? Speculation

See below the cut for spoilers for the latest episode!

So, given what we’ve learned about Ludinus and Molaysmyr, I think it seems like a decent bet that the two teams were flung near to places related to the guy at the center of the solstice ritual.  I imagine that these are sites with resonance or even prior attempts of his at achieving this ritual.  It sounds a lot like Molaysmyr was destroyed during one such attempt to harness the power under it to shatter the red moon, and I have to wonder if he left Issylra for the same reason (I forget what city he was supposed to be from there, but he looked ‘young’ at the time).  

So I definitely suspect that Team ??? might really be Team Issylra, which is close enough to Marquet to see the moon still, but far enough away it’s not an easy hike.  That also ties into Ashton’s backstory, as the Hishari village was apparently on Issylra (as was the apparent recent cult activity Keyleth had to fight before the solstice, making me think that not all the Hishari were destroyed in their own little ritual, and that the gnarlier versions of the Ashari still are kicking in Issylra).  

So I definitely think we’re going to have a parallel but darker story on our hands, with a backstory exploration for Ashton, some new information about the Ashari and Hishari that might just rock Orym a bit, and likely an exploration of more of Ludinus’ backstory as well.

So all that being said, I wonder what sorts of guests we’ll get.  My guess is we get two again, and I have to wonder if they’re going to be either Hishari or people fighting against them or both.  If we’re following the trend set with Team Wildemount, they’re going to be tied directly in with at least Ashton’s backstory and maybe Orym’s as well?  Or maybe we’ll save Orym’s for later?  I don’t know.  There was a contingent of Ashari there recently, so it’s not insane that one of them got stuck there and ended up befriending a local and surviving together.

And that speculation made me wonder: who would be good guests for those roles?  I think they’ll be new guests, much like Aabria and Christian, but also perhaps known to the team.  I immediately thought that Luis Carazo could get that sort of depth and grittiness that this storyline might need.  B. Dave Walters is another one I’d love to see.  Any of their one-shot guests might also be possibilities: Michelle Nguyen Bradley could be a really interesting possibility.  Alex Ward is always a delight, as is Ify Nwadiwe.  But of course it could be another voice actor or guests I’ve never heard of before.  I’m excited to see how that side of things shapes up, and can’t wait to see how the new guests also entangle with the cast.

[artist-issues]

*shrieks into the void*

“Let me free you from having to agree that Dune is a good movie series!”

There’s no emotional depth. The three things you’re supposed to care about, with the characters, in this movie are a) Paul’s family/household, their name and their wellbeing. b) The Fremen, their cause and their wellbeing. c) Chani, Paul’s relationship with her and her wellbeing. But the movies do not display any genuine moments of these characters being relatable or human or empathetic in a way that we can all empathize with. Paul’s interactions with his father before his death are too formal and take themselves too seriously. There’s little to no humor or relaxed moments between them that the casual viewer could relate to before big, dramatic moments ramp up the tension. When everything is solemn and Shakespeare, nothing is impactful or hits you in a real way. It all quickly becomes emotional white-noise, whether the dad is screaming about a assassination attempt on his son or his death is revealed to that son—who cares? Paul and Chani? They have no build-up to their relationship. There’s no reason they should like each other beyond animal attraction. And no audience member can relate to the experience of having supernatural visions about a girl, then meeting her and gaining her trust through pitched combat and ritual training. So nobody cares when he betrays her, no matter how much dramatic music you play. And Paul’s mother’s motives are either unclear or wholly unrelatable, so you don’t care what she’s after or how it will affect everyone else.

The writing lacks pacing. There are barely any jokes or moments of regular, normal conversation. Every single conversation is weighed down by solemn “fantasy culture” references, every single line is burdened by dramatic mic-drop one-liners. Paul and his mother never talk about what they miss about their old planet together, in a normal fashion. That would be the most natural thing in the world, as they travel through the desert.

The villains are shock-jock puppets. You might as well have a clip show of people getting run over by cars or falling off of bridges playing, instead of every scene with Fayd Rautha or any Harkonen, for all that the villains add to the story. They’re just there to be loud, or erotic, or gory—but don’t worry, the movie will play dramatic, chanting music behind everything they do so that you feel a sense of “epic dread” when they’re actually doing nothing intimidating or clever, or scary. They’re just yelling and smashing people. If they twirled their mustaches and “mua-ha-ha-ha’d” they’d at least be a little campy and fun to watch—but they’d be exactly the same amount of ‘effective or interesting in the story.’

It’s all sugar, no nutrients. The sugar just happens to be pretty music, good sound and visual effects, and nice-looking actors & actresses. The message is “power is derived from the successful manipulation of those with faith.” That’s it. That’s awful. That’s an awful message. What am I supposed to do with that information? What am I supposed to carry out of that theater? I’m supposed to start abandoning submission and faith in any higher power or authority, and use those ideas for selfish ambition and control, if I were to listen to Dune.

And don’t tell me it’s profound to take your main character and make him the villain. Boo hoo hoo. That’s not profound, I don’t care if it is Timothee Chalamet. Nobody cared about who he was before he betrayed his girlfriend and seized manipulative power for himself. When Anakin Skywalker falls to the dark side and kills his wife and turns on all the people who looked to him for help? You care. Know why? Because you saw who he was and how he struggled to live up to that, before the fall ever happened. He was a human character with relatable flaws like pride and human moments, like teasing his girlfriend or making his best buddies nervous, with hobbies, like tinkering. With a competitive personality. With a deep angst over loss. Paul Atreides? Lazy. Lazy in comparison. We’re just told his dad died and told he’s sad about that, but there’s no real human attention given to that. Just big dramatic, angsty declarations and acting-explosions. We’re told he loves Chani, and expected to believe it, but given no evidence except a suggestive post-sex scene with zero romantic tension or buildup, or even bonding. All Paul Atreides is, is a character who has a laundry list of epic hard-to-do chores, and he gets them done, while dramatic music plays, as if there was some doubt he was going to be able to do his chores and you’re supposed to see his completion of the list as a moment of victory. Guess what? I don’t care about his chore list, no matter how “cultural” they are. So I don’t care about his rise or fall, or anything he’s doing, because he’s not a relatable human character. He’s just a caricature. And that would be fine. If there were any relatable human side characters to look at him through the eyes of. But there aren’t. Because this whole story is “shock and awe, look at how important we are, hear that rumbling bass in the soundtrack, see this character brooding into the horizon for the seven-thousandth shot?” What am I supposed to take away from this? All sugar. No nutrients.

[spotsupstuff]

S1E9 - 成功捷径/Shortcut to Success

(translation of the Mandarin dub to English by a slav who Just started learnin the former- for fun and for practice/exploration of the language. therefore, there most likely will be mistakes) i Might try and slap the english subs on top of the mandarin episode at some point, but im not sure if there wont be any complications with that

QXT：You know- I respect you for teaching me kung-fu, because you are Sūn Wùkōng. Great Sage Equal to Heaven! As a result, I never expected... I will be stuck here! Having to smash a wall for 12 hours every day! What am I doing this for?? [要知道- 我 拜你为师学功夫是因为你是孙悟空。堂堂时齐 天 大圣！结果万万没想到。。。我会困在这里！每 天 要连续砸12个小时的墙！我这是为了什么？ ？ (note: 拜 - according to google’s definition it is “An ancient courtesy of respect. Later, it was also used as a general term for saluting.”]

SWK：Eeehh, it’s to make me a place to have breakfast. Wall smashed, good lightning! [是 为 了让我有个吃早饭的地方。墙砸了采光好 ！] QXT：But I want to be Wùkōng Xiǎoxiá [the mandarin (CN) version of Monkie Kid] instead of a little decoration worker! If you don’t teach me a little bit of kung-fu I... How can I go out and fight for justice? [可是我想当的是悟空小侠而不是什么装修小工 ！ 你要是不教我点功夫傍身 我。。。我还怎么出去行侠仗义啊？ (note: 悟空小侠 - would be roughly translated as “little heroic Wùkōng”)] SWK：Ho hoo... So you want to learn kung-fu, yes? Like this? [所以你是 想 学功夫 是吧？就像这样？]

QXT：That’s right! This is what I want to learn! I’m already prepared good. [or just “I’m ready.”] Be quick and teach me! [没错 ！ 我 想 学 的 就 是这个！我已经准备好了 。 快点 教我吧！] SWK：-laughs- Kid, this can’t be done quickly. If you want martial arts, then only practice. [小子 这 可 没法速成。要想武功盖世只有练习。] QXT： B... But smashing the wall is useless! [可 。。。 可 是 砸 墙没什么用啊！] SWK：I will never teach you useless things, understand? Good... -QXT pouts- Listen. This ancient painting wall won't fall by itself, so work harder. “Round up” (look @ notes), KO it. [我永远不会 教你没 用 的东西 懂吗？好了 。 。 。 听着。这面古老画壁是不会自己倒下的所以加把劲。抡圆了 KO它。 (note: 抡圆了 - generally means that before a person hits someone, they should turn their arm around their shoulder before hitting the target/movement description)] ] -QXT’s phone starts ringing- LXJ：Xiǎotiān! Quick, come, we have big troubles! [小天 ！ 快来 有大麻烦了！] QXT：A monster is attacking Wàn Qiān Chéng? [the name of the city] That is so terrible~! -turns to SWK- I need to lend a hand with something trivial, so... no time to smash the wall. Then I’ll... go! Bye! -nyooms away, SWK sighs- [怪物袭击万千城？这太可怕了~！ 有点小事需要去帮忙 所以 没空 砸 墙。那么。。。走了 ！ 拜！(note: Wàn Qiān Chéng means Thousands of Cities)]

QXT：What did I miss? [我错过了什么？] LXJ：Qí Xiǎotiān, why are you so late? [齐小天 你怎么才来呀？] QXT：Sorry, just now I was smashing a wall at Sūn Wùkōng’s. Is that the monster? Okay, it’s done in three seconds. [抱歉 刚才在孙悟空那砸墙。那就是妖怪？好嘞 三秒钟搞定。] LXJ：Wait wait-!!! [等 等-！ ！ ！ ] QXT：Here comes-! -the smoke monster catches and throws him into the ground- [悟空小侠 来-！] LXJ：We already... tried that. [我们已经尝试过了。]

-LEMH appears- LXJ：That is... [那是���。。] QXT： Sūn Wùkōng? [孙悟空？]

QXT：YAAAAY!! Sūn Wùkōng!!! -falls and reappears- So good! You still came! -notices it’s not SWK, gasps- Ouuh... emberrasing. You aren’t Sūn Wùkōng. [孙悟空！ ！ ！ 太好了 ！ 你还是来了！尴尬了 。 不是孙悟空。] LEMH：-chuckles and squats down- I’m used to it. Wùkōng Xiǎoxiá, right? [我习惯了 。 悟空小侠 对吧？] QXT： -awed gasp- How do you know? [你怎么知道？] LEMH：-laughs some more- Jīngū Bàng [the staff’s name] sticks out, buddy. Not anyone can use that, hm? [金箍棒露馅了 伙计。那可不是谁都能 用 的，hm？(note: Jīngū Bàng means Golden Hooped Cudgel)] QXT：Uhh... That’s uuhh... Who are you? [那个。。。你是谁？] LEMH：Six Eared Macaque! Actually now... Not many people know my name... Okay, (see you) later, Qí Xiǎotiān! [六耳猕猴！ 其实现在呢。。。 没有多少人知道我的大名 。。 。 行啦 回头见 齐小天 ！]

QXT：Can you teach me that cool big trick? [能教我那个炫酷大招吗？！ ] LEMH：Uhhhh... Don’t you already have a master? You are learning kung-fu from Sūn Wùkōng, right? [你不是已经有师傅了吗？你正跟孙悟空学功夫呢 对吗？] QXT：O-oh- N-no no it’s... Umm- [不- 不 也不是。。。] LEMH：But one more master isn’t a bad thing! Sūn Wùkōng won’t be opposed. He isn’t afraid of being surpassed by others. [但是多一个师傅也不是什么坏事！ 孙悟空不会反对的。他 不 怕被别人超越。] QXT：Uhh.... Yeah! That’s right! He is very generous. [是啊！没错！他很大方的。] LEMH：Ha ha, that’s it. [那就行了。]

LEMH：-siiiigh- Not bad... -hah- Honestly... I think with the power you have now, you should be a little stronger. [还可以。 。 。 老实说 。 。 。 我觉得以你如今拥有的力量你应该更强一点。] QXT：H-hey! It’s not over yet, my strength is more than this! -exhale- I can be better. [喂！还没完呢 我的实力可不止这样 ！ 我能更好。] LEMH：Alright, next time make my eyes open. [好吧 下次让我开开眼界。]

LEMH：Don’t want to show mercy. Don’t want to be compassionate. What you must do is one trick win. Each strike should not leave any room. I guess some people hope you’d be a bit more patient. [不要手下留情。不要心存怜悯。你要做的是一招致胜。每次出击都应该不留任何余地。我猜有人希望你更耐心点儿。] SWK： Patience. Concentration. “Round up” KO it! [耐心 。 专注 。 抡圆了 KO它！] LEMH：That’s holding you back. Inside you hides unlimited potential. Discover it! Apply it to your attack. Remember. You don’t need a magic weapon, you are the magic weapon. [那是在拖你的后腿。你内藏无限潜力。发掘它！把它运用到你的攻击中。记住 。 你不需要神兵 你就是神兵。(note: 神 also means god/deity/superhuman. 兵 also can mean soldier. together they could mean godly soldier, as well, I think??)]

SWK：Woah! Where did you learn that? Hoh! You hurry up and tell honestly, have you respected another master? [Woah！哪儿学来的？Hoh！你赶紧老老实实告诉我是不是拜了别的师傅了？] QXT：Patience. Concentration. Isn't that what you said? [ 耐心。专注。这不是你说的吗？] SWK：Listen, kid. That kind of amount of power- your body can’t bear that. [听着 小子。那种程度的力量- 你身体吃不消的。] QXT：I don’t think my body can’t handle it, but you don’t want to see someone willing to teach me real kung-fu! [我看不是我 身 体 吃不 消而是你不想看到有人愿意教我真正的功夫！]

LEMH：The opportunity has arrived. [时机到了。] QXT：What opportunity? [什么 时机？] LEMH：I know where it is. [我知道它在哪儿。]

LEMH：This is actually a legendary monster. Super super powerful. We must settle it once and for all. Come on! [这其实是一只传说中的怪兽 。 力量超级超级强大 。 我们必须一劳永逸地解决它 。 夹吧 ！] QXT：No, I couldn’t even get near it last time! [不行 上次我都没法靠近它 ！] LEMH：Ah! That’s right, but haven’t I been teaching you? You aren’t what you used to be, don’t you feel it yourself? [是这样 但我不是一直在教你吗？ 你已经今非昔比 你自己没有感觉到吗？] QXT：Probably... [可能吧 。 。 。 ] LEMH：Remember. Your self is the magic weapon. Do not how mercy. [记着。你自己就是神兵 。 千别手下留情 。] QXT：Here comes Wùkōng Xiǎoxiá! [悟空小侠来也！]

QXT：I am the magic weapon! [我就 是神兵！]

LEMH： You really are a good child. You have a warm heart! -laughs- -absords the “powers”- Thank you. For giving me the godly power of Sūn Wùkōng. [你真是一个好孩子 。 你有一副热心肠 ！谢谢你 。 把孙悟空的神力给我 。] -QXT struggling- LEMH： -”ooh?” laughs some more- It’s over... Are you not strong enough to hold the golden hoop cudgel? Face reality, you have no other talents at all. You just had better luck. [完了 。 。 。 没力气拿金箍棒了？ 面对现实吧 你根本没什么别的才能 。 你不过就是运气好点儿罢了 。]

SWK： Enough! -enters the scene- [ 够了！ ] QXT：Sūn Wùkōng! [ 孙悟空！] LEMH： Sūn Wùkōng! Long time no see, brother/old pal! [孙悟空！ 好久不见 老弟 ！(note: 老弟 is an affectionate form of addressing of a male who is not very much younger than oneself, doesn’t mean an Actual brother)] SWK：I say, you always pretend to be me, don’t you feel bored? We should work out the ledger. [我说你总冒充我 你就不觉得腻吗？ 咱们该算算总账了。(note: ledger - a book or other collection of financial accounts or a flat stone slab covering a grave)] LEMH：Such a star (as in celebrity) like you, how greatly satisfying it will be to use your strength to solve you. [像你这样的明星 用你的力量来解决你将会是多么地痛快 。] -The Fight Begins-

SWK: Xiǎotiān? [小天？]

LEMH：No way. You actually ate that up? -QXT struggling- It’s not against you, sorry! [不会吧 。 你居然吃这一套？ 不是针对你哦 对不起了！] SWK：-QXT screams- Xiǎotiān! [小天！]

LEMH：Come on! Let me meet the real Sun Wukong! The former you would knock the mountains down just to stop me. Now you are afraid of hurting this kid. Truly sad! [夹吧!！让我会会真正的孙悟空！ 以前的你把山轰平了也要阻止我 。 现在居然怕伤到这小子。真可悲！ ] QXT： Please, Jīngū Bàng... I can’t- I dont have the strength... [拜托了 金箍棒。。。 不行了- 我没力气了 。。。] SWK：Kid! I must have a good chat with you- but now it’s your turn! [小子 ！ 我一定得跟你好好聊 聊- 但是现在该你上���了！ ] QXT & SWK：Patience. Concentration. “Round up” KO him! [耐心 。 专注 。 抡圆了 KO他！]

SWK：-sighs- You succeded, you haven’t forgotten what I taught you. [你成功了 我教的你 都 没忘。] QXT：I’m very sorry... [我很抱歉。。。] SWK：Oh- OH!! You are too much, to find another master behind my back! [你实在太过分了居然背 着 我又找了 一个师傅！] QXT：I just wanted to become a hero like you. [我只是想成为英雄像你 一 样。] SWK：-sighs, sits next to QXT and pats him- Hey... You have to rest your mind first and then work hard. [嘿。。。 你得先把心放正然后就是努力了。(I’m not too sure on this one)] QXT：So you will continue to teach me? [所以你会继续教我？] SWK：Of course, kid! I got a good idea. [当然 小子 ！ 我有了个好主意。]

QXT：So mysterious... On the surface, it looks like overwhelmingly boring housework, but actually, this must be the most secret trick to learning the best skills! Right-? [太玄妙了 从表面上 看 是无聊透顶的家务活但其实这 一 定是学习绝顶功夫最秘密的诀窍！对吧-？] SWK：Eehhh.... Sure! [当然 ！ ]

[bymoonchild]

Get You The Moon (M)

Pairing | Taehyung x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, enemies to lovers!AU, football!AU,  jock!Taehyung x student reporter!OC Warnings | Explicit language, sarcastic banter, dirty talk, blowjob, facefucking, eating out, cumplay, cum-dumpster, fingering, rough sex, slight dom!tae, spanking, degradation, unprotected sex, ass-pining, tae has the phattest ass and dick but wbk Summary | Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate. Word count | 19.6k 

“What a surprise, you’re alive.”

It is exactly that fake enthusiasm and subtle mirthful nuance that’s too familiar to your liking that gives rise to the arch of your eyebrow. You don’t even need to look up at the owner of the voice to picture the shit-eating smirk that belongs to none other than your editor-in-chief-slash-best-friend, Min Yoongi. Such morbid greetings have been long established as an inside joke between the two of you due to the peculiar sense of humour that you two share.

This is just how he likes to start his mornings. Being the systematic person he is, he has his own morning routine in the newsroom. Regardless of the pile of work on his desk, he’ll first make a beeline for his first cup of coffee of the day, after which he will come sauntering your way to provoke you with his laundry list of snarky remarks – about work, being tired, being alive and dead, about how bureaucracy sucks, the negative sides of capitalism and what not. Well, you two share a deep-seated sense of misanthropy so albeit provocative, his laments are refreshing in the morning – a literal morning boost of positivity from negativity.

“Not for long buddy,” you shrug, looking up from your laptop and your eyes land on Yoongi, who looks just as dead.

“I barely slept last night – was busy rushing my essays. Essays, might I repeat. So it would be great if you don’t have much for me today, although I know you have a kink for torturing me.”

At this, the edges of his lips curl up and you instantly register the meaning behind the sinister smile: your impending doom.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I do have something for my most talented and gung-ho reporter and best friend.”

“Kindly elaborate,” you smile back acrimoniously, squinting your eyes in distrust.

“It involves a profile feature of a popular varsity athlete.”

An involuntary groan escapes your lips almost instantly. Athletes are the worst people to interview.

“That’s not even the worst part yet. As we’re celebrating the 50th anniversary of our publication this year, we’ll be doing a special spread on honorary members of the school, including club presidents, captains and valedictorians. Oh, which reminds me – maybe I should feature myself for being the most overworked Editor-In-Chief because this publication is sucking my entire soul, but anyway, I digress.”

He brings up his mug to his lips. It’s only 10am, but you wonder how many cups he has had, eyeing the pallor of his face.

“I’ve already assigned the other reporters their respective targets for the lack of a better word, and left the toughest nut for you to crack,” he grins smugly and that’s when it hits you.

Clocking you square in the face.

“Yoongi, no you didn—”

“Yoongi, yes,” his smirk widens at your aghast expression, “A profile feature on Kim Taehyung, for my most talented and hardworking reporter.”

Kim Taehyung.

Your biggest nemesis.

The boy who lives to torment you.  

Literally everyone in school and their mother (or their dog) knows him because 1) he’s quite a looker (he’s known for having a god damn symmetrical face and you’re honestly baffled and amazed at how people even took the time to check the degree of symmetry), 2) he’s the captain of the varsity football team (cue the huge hoo-ha about varsity captains), 3) he’s probably slept with everyone in school and their mother (okay, that’s an exaggeration, but he is a dumb fuckboy to the bone), and 4) he’s also the poster boy for the department of narcissistic and annoying fuckboys, star football player and all that jazz.

“What the fuck?”

You challenge the carefully hidden astonishment reflected in Yoongi’s eyes, disregarding how the other reporters in the newsroom have jumped in their seats at your abrupt outburst.

“You know I fucking hate him!”

Yoongi, per contra, does absolutely nothing to show the slightest of empathy, simply because he has none, and even finds the scowl on your face hilarious, “Which is exactly why you’re the perfect person for this story.”

“There must be someone else whom I can cover. Please, Yoongi – I really, really don’t want to take this up.”

“Listen,” he sighs, running his hand through his fingers and you know that signifies that his sigh is genuine, “As your friend, I’m really sorry that you’ve been assigned to this story, but there’s no one more suitable than you. No one does profiles as incredible as you. Look, you just need to follow him around for a week – observe how he is in class, what he does after class and how he performs on the field. I can promise that it won’t be that bad.”

You frown, “As my friend? Then… what about–”

You don’t miss the 180 change from his previous expression, the soft in his comforting smile replaced with a sneer that is all malign in a blink of an eye.

Panic starts to form a thick film in your throat.

Lowering his voice by two tones, he snarls, “As your Editor-In-Chief, I only have three words for you: suck it up. The journalism world is a dog-eat-dog world. You don’t and can’t choose your beats. What you can do is to go out there and come back with a story, or this newspaper is going to flop at your hands, along with your GPA.”

Such audacity.

You glare at him in disbelief, squinting your eyes at the sneer that’s still plastered on his face.

“As my friend,” you mimic, dragging each word, “Fuck you bitch.”

Sighing out loud with absolute disregard, you clench your fists to tamper down the vexation that threatens to escape your throat, “But for the sake of my GPA and this publication that is my precious baby, I’ll take this up. Very unwillingly though, I must add. But if he refuses to cooperate, he can suck my ass.”

“You have my seal of approval if you meant that literally.”

“Fuck off—”

“Anyways, you won’t need to worry about Tae. I contacted him just now – he’ll be expecting you at practice on Monday.”

You roll your eyes, “Tae? I can never understand how you two are close.”

He inches closer to taunt you further, “May I remind you that Tae and I literally grew up together in Daegu, so he’s like my little bro. Anyways, he also told me to tell you that he cannot wait to see you.”

Nose scrunched up in disgust, you groan out loud at the duality before you, before flipping your friend off and burying your head in your palms.

But as much as you hate to admit it, Yoongi’s right. You have to suck it up.

If doing this profile is the only way to save your GPA and the publication, to hell with your pride and Kim Taehyung. You’re going to do this story well and you’re going to make sure that nothing, absolutely nothing – including Kim Taehyung and his fuckboy antics – is going to fuck that up.

Not in this economy.

Building up to Monday aka the Big Day as what Yoongi calls it, while you refer to it as the Day You Die), Yoongi has left you very specific instructions for the profile feature, expecting you to find some easy way out of this. He normally leaves you on your own, knowing that you’d always return with a solid piece that he won’t be able to find anything to nit-pick on. But for this task, he has ordered you to follow the boy around for a whole damn week and expects you to submit your voice recordings for accurate transcription.

Right from the get-go, you can already deem this profile to be the most stressful and frustrating piece in your entire journalism career. In other words, it’s a sham. A popularity stunt. A hoax. An opportunity to give Kim Taehyung even more clout and undeserving commendation than what the resident fuckboy deserves.

The day you finish your story will the best day of your life because you won’t ever need to interact with the said boy ever again.

To say that you hate him would be an understatement – sure, hate is a strong emotion, yadda yadda yadda, but the cacophony of arrogance and smugness that radiates off him makes your face scrunch up in disdain whenever he’s around. Though you would never allow him to have such power over you, he has tormented you countless of times with his shameless flirting whenever he has the chance to, and by simply existing and being his annoying, putrid self. You really don’t know why Taehyung has taken a liking to teasing you and pushing your buttons, ever since Yoongi introduced the two of you two years ago.

The sun is dripping down on the soccer field with delicacy, casting its golden light on the grass patch when Coach blows the whistle from the sidelines. Right in the heart of the field, Number 6 springs into action on the field, shouting commands at his teammates who listen to him intently.

Indeed, there are many other guys running all over the field, decked in the same jersey, but you could instantly recognise the outline of Taehyung’s ass, your eyes fixated on how the fabric of his shorts hugs his lower half like a second skin. Much to your dismay, one of your thirsty friends had hooked up with Taehyung last Christmas and didn’t allow you to forget the details of his bomb dick game and the thickness of his ass, so it’s fair to say that you have a good gauge of how his ass looks like. Not that you take pride in that knowledge though.

A smug smirk plays on his lips when he scores another goal as he instinctively pumps his fist to the air. You observe how he proceeds to run around the field, high-fiving and patting his teammates to spur them on.

Being the captain of the precious varsity football team, Kim Taehyung naturally carries an aura of confidence, which easily moulds into palpable cockiness. He’s infuriatingly talented and thus, his big ego sadly, and he also doesn’t have much of a filter and says anything that comes to mind. You’ve come to a conclusion that his language is an unfortunate concatenation of sexual jokes, sarcastic taunts and indolent mischief.

As if having sensed your gaze, he cranes his neck in the midst of practice and shoots you a seemingly innocent grin when he spots you standing awkwardly at the sidelines, hugging your notebook like they’re a piece of armour shield. But you know that there is more to his smile than just innocence. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he grabs the hem of his shirt to dry the sweat on his forehead and smirks in satisfaction when your face drops disgruntledly.

After calling for a five, he jogs up to you, his smile unwavering. Behind him, his teammates have all huddled together, pretending to drink up and talk amongst each other, but their eyes are all glued on the interaction between you and their captain.

“My my, look who we have here. Isn’t it my favourite girl cheering me on during practice?”

Taehyung’s awful voice pierces your eardrums, thick with honey and mixed with some other cloyingly sweet substances.

Your annoyance reaches its peak level as your eyes narrow to slits when he stops right in front of you.

You could leave right this instance. In fact, you very much want to, but your conscience is holding you back. While you’ve contemplated smoking your way for the profile one too many times, you know that Yoongi, being the smart shit he is, would be able to see through it (and also, Taehyung might just snitch on you) and the mere thought of a disappointed Yoongi just bites you.

“Look,” you spit, facing him properly for the first time, “I’m here against my own will because I have a story to write and that’s the only reason why I am even here. So I would very much appreciate it if you could quit acting like a jerk and let me do my job so I can leave ASAP.”

You’ve never been this up-close with Taehyung before, not when all you ever focus on around him is putting on your bitchiest expression, coming up with spiteful retorts, or pretending that you didn’t see him in the hallway which is actually impossible because he comes for you like a plague.

“Sssh, did you hear that?”

“Huh—”

“That’s the sound of you begging for my help.”

A taunting smirk inches its way onto the edges of Taehyung’s lips and you want to sock him in the face and wipe it off his lips. Your glare seems to only spur it to grow wider, as if somehow your clear distaste for him is amusing to him.

“Going to fake a quote for me again?” He continues, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

“If you continue pissing me off, I just might.”

For your previous article which involved having to interact with Taehyung, he had refused to answer your questions properly, spouting nonsense and idiotic pickup lines that served of no value to your article. You just needed a one-liner from the egotistical football captain, but all he did was obliterate your gossamer thin patience and last few braincells. Given his insistent reluctance to cooperate, you eventually made up a quote for him – something along the lines of “I don’t really think much about life – I just YOLO it because you know, YOLO” – and made sure that it reflected him badly.

The quote eventually became the unofficial quote of the year and it gives you so much satisfaction, knowing that it made a small dent on Taehyung’s reputation. On bad days, you’d think of the fake quote and laugh to yourself. Needless to say, he was enraged and even sent complaint emails to Yoongi for false reporting. Journalism ethics? You don’t know her.

“Oh yes, where were we?” He draws out each word with a smooth tone, unfazed, “We were talking about how I hold your fate in the palm of my hands, Princess.”

You hate that nickname he has for you. You don’t even remember when and how it started or what led to the nickname. Grunting out loud in abhorrence, you stop to contemplate kicking him in the shin and running away, but you lack the courage to carry out the former because if you’re to ever hurt the precious varsity captain, you can jolly well bid farewell to your collegiate life.

But before you can even take a step away, he stops you by blocking your passage with an even wider smirk. If he is fucking ecstatic at your rage, he’s determined on making sure that you’re well aware of it. 

“Seriously, if you don’t want to do this, let me know right now so we don’t waste each other’s time.”

“Oh Y/N,” he calls out dramatically and you cringe at how your name rolls off his tongue, “I did promise Yoongi-hyung about that profile, but I didn’t promise him that I won’t make your life a living hell.”

If it’s possible for your eyeballs to roll out of the socket, you’re pretty sure it would have already happened by now because Kim Taehyung is impossible.

“Okay,” you exhale, gathering your thoughts, “Then I will, for the better of mankind, start this civilly. But let me just say that I’ll take the mantle of being the bigger person here, which isn’t hard because you’re technically not a person.”

“Of course, I’m more than just a person,” he laughs and a devilish smirk, way too familiar against your own will, tugs at his lips, “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

“Did I ask? Can we just get this over and done with so that I can stop being around your despicable presence, stat.”

“Now, that’s not the way to treat your interviewee. Also, Yoongi said you’ll be following me around for a week. You’ll be around my ‘despicable presence’,” he holds up his fingers in the air to quote, “For an entire week. You think up for it, babe?”

He waggles his eyebrows with a mischievous glint blazing in his eyes, enjoying the scowl on your face.

“Fuck off, Kim.”

His eyes light up when he realises that he’s hit a nerve.

“Every breath you draw in my presence annoys the heck of me,” you edge, words slowing down to a pace that’s normally used on children.  

His large, almond eyes continue to regard you with keen interest.

“That’s funny. I thought that after all this while, you would be used to me scoring right into your goal.”

“Get your head out your ass.”

“Oh, I’ll have you know that I have a bomb ass. 10 out of 10 would tap.”

He laughs with an amused grin on his face, the same one he always has whenever he riles you up, finding entertainment in your fury. You hate his laughter. He’s always laughing, his smile huge and genuine and his out of this world personality knocking girls off-kilter. You hate it. Everything about it.

“What the fuck,” you spit scathingly, mouth agape in utter disbelief at the boy in front of you, or Satan himself wearing the flesh of a human.

You end up only asking two questions from your entire list of 15 questions, but it’s as though you’re stuck at square one because his answers are either half-assed or pure nonsense, and boy are you pissed.

“Hey, you’re alive.”

You look up from your misery and see the very cause of the said misery, standing at the door with an eyebrow raised. You don’t miss the extra sarcastic bite to his voice and the irritating smirk on his face, but you’d like to believe that he’s actually impressed by your unyielding resilience.

“Highly arguable. Mentally, no, but physically, yes I am. Not for long though,” you grunt, tone imbued in sarcasm because you are seriously done with this profile feature and you can’t wait for this torture to end.

Lifting your tumbler, you suck on the dregs of your coffee and groan louder at how it’s no longer hot. Lukewarm coffee is like torture to the tongue, much more than burning your tongue. You’re one of the annoying customers who would request for extra hot coffee, because you simply can, and you’re used to them faking a smile and then rolling their eyes when they’ve turned on their backs.

“I take it that something happened?”

“Oh nothing,” you shoot him a sarcastic grin, “Except for the fact that the bastard just toyed with me and wasted my Monday evening. If this is how it’s going to be, I say that we stop immediately.”

“Oh come on, it’s just the first day! I get that Tae can be playful and says a lot of stupid things, but he’s actually a really nice dude.”

“I just don’t like him,” you mumble and your voice trails off upon realising that you sound like a bratty preschool kid who can’t get along with the others.

Yoongi scoffs at your remark to correct you, “You don’t like anybody.”

“As if you’re not the most misanthropic person I know.”

“Wow, this ain’t about me,” Yoongi throws his hands up in the air in faux-defeat, “This is about you and Taehyung. Can you at least tell me why you hate his guts?”

The empty remark that brews on the tip of your tongue dies instantly and all you can lamely mutter is, “Over my dead body.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Because I’m embarrassed.”

“Wait, what? Did you embarrass yourself in front of him?” Yoongi urges with a confused frown, but your lips are still sealed.

“Something like that.”

“Would you be so kind as to elaborate on that?”

“Nope, continue suffering.”

He rolls his eyes in disbelief, before flipping you the bird.

The next two mornings, you find yourself dragging yourself across the campus and past the newsroom, just to show up at the football field. Upon your arrival, the entire team ditches their warmup session and falls into a collective silence, openly gawking at you and your every movement. The sudden change in the atmosphere elicits an uncomfortable shiver to crawl up your spine. Looks like your social anxiety is about to have a field day.

“Captain, you have a visitor!”

One of the boys hollers with a playful glint in his voice, breaking the silence. At that, some teammates instantly gather in their own circles to whisper to one another, while some discuss your presence without bothering to be discrete. Is this… a jock version of Mean Girls?

“Tae! Your girl is here again!” Another dude shouts and you turn around to shoot a glare at the owner of the voice, eyebrows furrowed.

“Call me his girl one more time and I’ll make sure your legs won’t make it to finals.”

“Damn, a feisty babe. Noice.”

Another guy comes up to you – Jungkook, you recognise him because he’s in one of your classes. His build towers over you, while he flashes you a small, shy smile and you can’t deny that he is pretty cute with his dimples and doe eyes, which makes him look like a little bunny, but all hope is irrevocably lost when he opens his mouth.

“Hey, I think I lost my number. Can I get yours?”

“Seriously?”

The earlier guy who calls you feisty butts in, “If Taehyung isn’t fucking you right, call me yeah? I’ll make you feel real goo—”

“Minjae, leave her alone.”

You hear a displeased grunt from behind you and turn around to an annoyed Taehyung. His grip on the football in his hand tightens, before he shoves it roughly at Minjae, throwing his teammate off completely.

“Guys, please leave Y/N alone. She’s here to interview me, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep it in your pants and have some decency or respect for yourself.”

The boys instantly mutter a sorry, the peculiar sharp undercurrent of their captain’s voice has them heaving themselves upright in alarm.

You turn your head slightly to look at Taehyung, who’s wearing a vexed frown on his face – well that’s a first for someone who is joking around and laughing. Seeing his strong side profile irks the fuck out of you because someone this attractive shouldn’t be such a big nuisance. What an unfortunate waste. Of course, you would rather be impaled than admit this.

“If you don’t go back to warmups, you’re getting another 5 more laps around the field!” He raises his voice to the entire team and they scramble back to their warmup positions like ants.

After making sure that the team is back on the grind, he spares you another look and leads you to an empty bench away from the warmup area.

“Pretty sure you could have handled it yourself, but you looked uncomfortable,” he smiles apologetically, resting his hand on the back of his neck.

“Well, if you didn’t make me wait, I wouldn’t have needed to go through that.”

“I was helping this freshman who needed extra help with his dribbling. It’s a one-on-one thing so we were in the clubroom.”

“Whatever, it’s cool.”

“Anyways… I got an earful from Yoongi-hyung this morning. He said that I was being too annoying yesterday, so yeah, sorry about that…” His voice trails off and for once, the smile playing on his lips is sheepish, instead of a cocky one.  

“Huh?”  

“I said I’m sorry. And also for my teammates’ behaviour. Don’t know why they act like this every time they see a girl on the field.”

“D-Did you just apologise to me? Is everything okay, like you know, with your brain?”

“What?” He scoffs, but the smile on his face still remains, “I’m not an asshole. I will apologise if I crossed the line.”

“Kim, not to burst your bubble, but you’ve crossed the line with your annoying and rude ass self since the beginning of time.”

And there it is again. That little grin tugging softly at his lips as his eyes lock themselves on yours.

“Not going to lie, that’s part of my charm.”

You hastily ignore the stirrings of intrigue in your chest, deciding to stop with the chit-chat, “Yeah sure. Let’s just start with the interview. I’ve got a class in an hour.”

He extends an arm to gesture you to sit down on the bench, while he settles down beside you and leans back in an elegant slouch, one ankle crossed over a knee.

“So, let’s talk about the freshmen players this year. Anyone potential successors yet? Do you have a lot of one-on-one trainings?”

“Wow, we playing 20 questions now?”

“Kim,” you sigh loudly with every intention of making sure that he knows how done you are, “I’m literally here to interview you. If I don’t ask questions, then what’s the point.”

“I was just kidding!” He throws his head back with a chuckle, “All right, shoot me with your best shot.”

“Okay,” you clear your throat, “You’re called the dark horse of the school. How do you feel about that?

“Do you like horses?”

“What?”

“Bet you’ll like mine.”

You cup your face in your palm, as your heaving suspire lowers into an interminable groan, “Kim Taehyung. Before I—”

“Hmmm, so a dark horse…” he begins slowly, “I think it’s a respectable and fulfilling title. It’s when you amaze them with how unexpectedly good you are. It’s about really proving your competence to everyone who didn’t think highly of you before, so I’ll take it with pride and satisfaction.”

You nod your head as he speaks and when he finishes his sentence, you ask with a raised eyebrow, “Practiced that much?”

“Every day before I go to bed.”

“Clearly.”

“Well, I can show you first-hand.”

“You fucking wish.”

Thankfully, Taehyung gradually stops playing around and actually starts answering your questions properly without giving bullshit answers or making suggestive remarks.

At your last question about his legacy in school, he even elaborates without any prompters and you gratefully take everything down, nodding once in a while when he brings up a good point.

“Wow, you’re writing all these down while I’m talking? Can I see?”

You casually hand him your notebook and he gapes dramatically at the notes you’ve taken.

“These are just scribbles, but they’ll help with transcribing later on.”

“Wow I have to say, I’m impressed and also a little turned on right now.”

Rolling your eyes for the nth time in disbelief, you grunt, “Kim, you do know that you’re still being recorded, right?”

“Of course,” he smirks, raising instant flags for mischief etched across his lips, “Here’s a little note for Y/N who will listen to this when she gets home – I think she’s hot as fuck.”

“You’re shameless.”

Laughter bellows from his lungs, “That I am. I’m not going to deny it.”

Afterwards, he offers to take you for a tour around the clubroom, showing you the medals and trophies that the team has snagged over the years. As he elaborates on the trajectory of the varsity team, the noisy chatter of other students outside fades into background noise like timing in your ears.

He shows you a picture of the team taken from two years ago and your eyes nearly pop out at how small and out of place freshman Taehyung looks. He’s grinning widely at the camera, surrounded by his poker-faced burly seniors, painfully sticking out like a sore tongue, even more so with his scrawny build.

“You look way too happy in the picture that I actually have second-hand embarrassment,” you mutter, but Taehyung manages to catch it.  

“Hey! I was an excited freshie and they didn’t tell me it was a formal picture.”

When you leave the clubroom that day, you take along with you new knowledge about Kim Taehyung. Firstly, you learn that he has only been playing football for two years, which comes off as a shock and almost a form of embarrassment when compared to the other guys with at least a decade of football experience, thus deserving the title of a dark horse. He’s always been more of an arts dude, but he got sucked into the sport when he and his best friend from high school Jimin walked past the football tryouts during orientation.

Secondly, either his cologne or shampoo has a fruity undertone and this is derived from the fact that he is suddenly standing so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his breath and see each glimmer of darkness that surfaces in his orbs, alongside the humming warmth radiating off of his body.

A chill runs down your spine and your heart starts slamming against your chest out of nowhere at the proximity. You’re not used to being so physically close to him and you try not to think about how his alluring scent has you biting the inside of your cheek.

Taehyung seems to know his effect on you because his lips start to spread into a wolfish grin, inching closer to you.

“Your fuckboy antics won’t work on me, Kim.”

Your voice doesn’t come off as strong as you wanted it to, but you hope that he doesn’t catch on.

“You sure about that, princess?” His breath fans out across your cheeks when he speaks, causing instant warmth to scatter over your skin in the rise of gooseflesh.

Irritation bubbles like a brook throughout your entire body.

It’s taking every single willpower of yours not to headbutt him in the face. You desperately want to, but because you’re obviously the bigger person here and you need to prevent yourself from being expelled from school, you could only jab your finger harshly at his chest.

“Try it on another chick, yeah?”

He uncoils from his slouch and rises to his full height, exuding a smug superiority.

“What if you’re the only one I want to try it on?” He teases, his voice echoing with timber, rich and velvet.

You shoot him a leer, accompanied with the imaginary daggers to his face, trying to ignore the steadfast flutter in your belly. By the anger that undulates from your pinched features, he knows he’s left you tongue-tied, and this only spurs his grin to widen, your clear distaste for him a pure entertainment and amusement to him.

“I hate you.”

You grit, but your voice comes out as a mere squeak. You feel like burying yourself from the weight of his longing gaze. Clearing your throat, you push the strange flutter that’s settling in your belly as you hoist your bag over your shoulder and speed-walk away from him, missing the way he smiles at your departing silhouette.

The shift in Taehyung’s demeanour on the field is beyond commendable, almost palpable to everyone who has their eyes on him. When he’s on the field, there is no fooling around, only the giving of his one hundred and one percent to the game.

Moving agilely with astounding precision, you observe how his sun-kissed skin shimmers with a thin sheen of sweat on his neck, while his eyes sparkle with intensity.

All right. There is some truth that Taehyung looks kind of cool (do people still use that word to describe someone?) and charismatic like this, all serious and immersed in the game. You just wonder if he could be the same when answering your questions.

His brown mop of tousled locks is damp, parted haphazardly, while his jersey clings onto his frame, drenched with perspiration. His biceps strain against the fabric and the veins on his exposed forearms are given prominence when he grabs onto the ball with his fingers effortlessly. Taehyung’s not the buffest, but he is lean with just a nice amount of toned muscles.

When your eyes trail further south for an infinitesimal moment, his tight football pants accentuating the swell of his thighs and the curve of his ass on full display come into view.

Fuck. Your eyes divert back up to his face when you realise what you’ve been gawking at. As the sun hikes up in the sky, it casts a pretty golden glow on his profile, highlighting his sun-kissed skin. You push away the sensation of a small bud blooming in your chest when you meet his gaze, especially when he shoots you his signature boyish smile, a foil to your frown.

Well, looks like someone is happy to see you.

A disconcerting feeling starts to stir in the pit of your stomach when Taehyung approaches you without wiping that smile off his face.

“Good job for surviving two and a half days with me. You ready for today?”

“Replying yes or no literally won’t make a difference at all.”

Shrugging, you lift your tumbler to sip on your coffee before pulling a face.

“Fuck,” you curse quietly under your breath, unexpecting Taehyung to catch it but he does.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… My coffee isn’t hot anymore.”

“Oh—”

“I bought this tumbler not long ago and it’s supposed to be good at trapping heat, but it just sucks and it was kind of expensive? I’m so angry I need to get another one—”

You stop your rant abruptly when you realise that Taehyung’s been staring at you quietly. He even urges you to continue with a nod of his head.

“Sorry, I’m oversharing.”

It’s not your fault that you tend to get too passionate when talking about your distaste for lukewarm coffee. For something that’s your bloodline, it has to be the right temperature, or else.

“Is that your pet peeve?”

You nod, “You can’t judge me though, or I’ll punch you.”

“It’s cool. If your greatest nemesis is lukewarm coffee—”

“Wrong. My greatest nemesis is the boy who’s currently talking to me right now.”

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” he rolls his eyes in faux-annoyance, “I absolutely detest coffee, big ass pills that I can’t swallow, and bread crusts.”

“Wait,” you stare at him pointedly in a cursory silence. “You don’t like coffee?”

“Nah, never liked the bitter taste.”

“Okay…” You drag your word out, “But you can just add sugar? Not that I do, I like it bitter. But please elaborate on the big ass pills and bread crusts. For a big boy like you, I have to say that this is pretty amusing.”

Laughter rises in Taehyung’s lungs at the pure confusion on your face, “I can’t swallow pills. Used to always puke them out. I usually crush them and yes, I know it tastes even worse but really, how else can I take my medicine? And bread crusts? Incardinate of evil. I’m really picky when it comes to bread.”

You can’t help but laugh at his dramatic expression. You don’t think you’ve ever had a proper chat with Taehyung that didn’t include insults, remarks, or retorts of any kind.

“You’re one weird boy, Kim.”

The conversation carries on smoothly, tucking itself into every available space, and you’ve got to admit that not only is Taehyung not bad at holding a conversation, he’s also a decent listener and listens quietly when necessary. This really piques your curiosity – maybe Yoongi’s right about him, maybe there is indeed a decent side to him. You’re just not sure why Taehyung loves to push your buttons. It’s as if he wants you to give him the time of day.

From your periphery, you realise that Taehyung’s looking straight at you and you freeze at the weight of his piercing gaze, feeling hot all of a sudden. A stunned silence encompasses the space between you, sitting heavily in your lungs.

After mustering up some courage, you look up to meet his eyes to reciprocate his actions, but your gaze diverts to the ground when you realise that his eyes are piercing right into your soul, like they’re searching or yearning for something.

“Kim,” you clear your throat awkwardly, “What are you doing?”

“Looking at you,” he replies matter-of-factly, his intense gaze never leaving your face. You want to bury yourself alive when you feel a persistent heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink.

“And may I know why?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The right corner of his lips curls up into a smirk. He’s raising a challenge.

“Spit it out.”

“Do I say the truth or?”

“Not that bold after all, huh?”

“Well,” he opens his mouth again with a devious little gleam in his eyes, “I was thinking about kissing you.”

You don’t miss how he is openly gawking at your lips and your eyes instinctively rest on his as well, which are somewhere between the colour of peaches and cherries. You’re not sure of what washes over you, but your mouth takes the better of you. And for the first time, your words aren’t clogged in your throat.

“Do it then.”

You look at him through your lashes, dark and coy, eyebrow raised, testing the very limits of Taehyung’s restraint.

The erratic beating of his heart is in sync with yours, but it increases within a second when you notice his gaze fall back on your lips from your eyes. Suddenly, this sparks your curiosity and all you can think about is how good Taehyung’s would feel on yours.

“W-What?”

“Do it, Taehyun—”

Before you could even mutter his name, his lips are suddenly smashed against yours.

Goosebumps rise on your skin in its wake when his tongue grazes along the flesh of your lower lip, and you, suddenly so enthralled by the boy in front of you, part your mouth to meet him halfway.

You don’t know how long it has been. With his lips pressed against yours, you lose track of time, watch it fly away in the form of the licks on your mouth. Taehyung slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, cupping your face with his hands to bring you closer to him. His tongue brushes against the underside of yours and then he recedes slightly before tangling for dominance.

Your name leaves his swollen lips in a dulcet whisper, causing your heart to spike in your chest and your stomach to unravel and knot again. You press your palm over your chest to calm the injured patter of your heart against the depths of your stomach.

The way his eyelashes that are almost impossibly thick and dark flutter just a fraction with each breath, brushing slightly against your nose and you squirm at the intimacy of the moment.

When he finally parts away, you feel like you’ve been electrocuted. But your stomach drops again when a pretty blush blooms over Taehyung’s face, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. His hands continue to rest on your shoulders, but his touch is so hot and tantalising that it makes you want to melt.

Taehyung has always called bullshit on all those romance novels that rave about how lips can taste as sweet as strawberries. But you taste like the strawberries from his grandparents’ farm – sweet and delectable.

When he licks his lips again, he shudders when his senses register the honey musk of you and the ghost of your afternoon coffee. He hates bitter coffee with a passion, but you taste so fucking sweet. Overly saccharine that he feels dizzy.

You don’t talk about the incident the previous night and you’re grateful that Taehyung doesn’t act any differently. It was most probably the adrenaline that took over you and also perhaps your curiosity because you’re a reporter and reporters are supposed to be nosey, curious and also dreaming about kissing the varsity soccer team’s captain. Yep, absolutely.  

Your pride be damned. While it kills you to admit it, it’s common knowledge to everyone in the fucking school that Taehyung is just really nice to look at, be it when he dons his jersey, a button up or his colourful printed clothes. There is no doubting his ravishing features – his sharp nose, big almond eyes, long eyelashes, perky lips and the little moles that adorn his face.

Unbeknownst to you, you cross paths with Taehyung in a day more often than you think you do. Too often for your own good. Most of the time, you can hear him before he comes into view. His boisterous laughter that highlights a lilting charm to his low voice fills your ears like a plague. It is as though he has intended to haunt you with his loud presence. And though you’ve already made up your mind to avoid him unless it’s necessary to spare him a glance, it’s quite impossible. After all, you have one job – and that is to follow Taehyung for a week.

“Hey Princess!”

You could almost hear the sneer hidden in his coo and envision it with perfect clarity, that infuriating spark in his eye whenever he manages to rile you up. You don’t turn around, your feet bringing you further away from him, but eventually come to a halt when he jogs up to you, blocking your way of passage.

“Princess!”

“I heard you the first time.”

“And you still ignored me? I’m hurt.”

“What do you want?” You grunt loudly, having absolutely no qualms about showing your displeasure.

He slings his football bag over his right shoulder and smiles, “You know, you shouldn’t be mean to a person who just bought you coffee.”

“Wha—”

With a goofy smile pulling at his lips, he pushes a tumbler towards you that was initially hidden behind his back.

“You said you don’t like lukewarm coffee and a styrofoam cup wouldn’t keep it warm by the time I pass it to you, so I got you a tumbler… Besides, you said yours wasn’t good so I figured that I’ll just get you a new one.”

Warmth violently flares in the full of your cheeks, tipping your ears pink at his words. You try not to let the fact that he remembers get to you, but he fucking remembers.

You are a college student to the bone. Turning your back on coffee would be a sin. But coffee from Taehyung? In a tumbler that he purposely bought because he fucking remembers what you said?

“How—”

He beams, simpering at your speechless self. He thinks your shocked expression is adorable, doing nothing for the wildfire claiming the land of his chest.

“Did you, like, stalk me or something?”

“Pfft. Maybe?” He runs a hand through his hair with a lopsided smile, eyes filled with mirth.

“You’re so weird.”

Despite being surrounded by the steaming, teeming mass of students in the crowded hallway, the moment you two share is as private and as comforting as sitting on the sideline bench alone.

“Enjoy your coffee! This tumbler has very good reviews, I checked! So your coffee should be still hot. If not, text me and I’ll give them a bad review.”

“W-What? Tae—”

Before you could call out for him, he has already scrambled away and blended in with the crowd. You deadpan mentally when you realise that the entire hallway is gawking at you and the tumbler around your hand. But what’s more alarming is the strange tightness in your chest and the warm, tingling feeling coursing through your fingertips that you can’t get rid of.

You start learning random things about Taehyung beyond just football and general facts that everyone knows about him. It’s surreal how drastically your relationship with Taehyung has changed over the past few days. While snarky ripostes and greasy comments (from Taehyung, of course) are still exchanged, talking and listening to each other, or just being with each other, feels almost natural to you. But you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased.

The daily meetings bring the two of you into line: by tacit and unconscious consent, you two have begun to weave a space for each other in your lives, forming a joint narrative like a breeze in the boughs, hanging in the spaces in between the two of you.

He was telling you about how he likes comparing his cheeks to bread buns, and he likes to stuff his cheeks when he eats, and that his grandparents would get upset if he returns to his hometown with sunken cheeks. You don’t realise that you’ve been grinning this entire time listening to him ramble on about his cheeks, but your smile grows even wider at Taehyung’s lock screen when his phone lights up from a notification.

“Oh my god, is that a dog?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, a little too loudly and shoves his phone in your face, “Say hi to Yeontan! Isn’t he just adorable?”

Your heart jumps at his excited smile and the tinges of pure adoration dancing in his orbs.

“Aww, he looks like a little ball of fluff.”

“He is! But he can also be very grumpy. Like you.”

“Did you just compare me to a dog?” You fold your arms fold over your chest in faux-rage.

“Such audacity!” He raises his palm to his chest with a gasp, feigning indignation. “He’s not just a dog. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me ever since I saw him at the shelter.”

“Shelter?”

“Oh, I volunteer at a shelter for abandoned and stray pets every month. You know, Yeontan was actually abandoned by his previous owner and I don’t know, I just had to take him in? I would take all the animals at the shelter if I could, to be honest. Maybe next time. Anyways, let me show you more pictures! I have an album full of his pictures.”

“Dude…”

“Don’t be like that. I already have a Yeontan who gets super unenthusiastic whenever I show him pictures of other dogs. I think he’s jealous.”

A small smile tugs at your lips and the edges of his lips start to curl up to a semblance of a smile as well.

“Well, Yeontannie sure is one lucky dog.”

“More like I am one lucky boy,” he beams, flashing his honey bread cheeks in all their glory.  

There’s no denying the sweet quiet of Taehyung’s presence when he’s not making stupid remarks, and this is expounded by how time seems to forget about its own existence these few days. Before you know it, it’s already dark and you’re soon packing up to head back home.

“I’ll need you to go through some fact-checking with you tomorrow. You free around 6pm?”

“Shit, I think I have something on,” Taehyung pouts, fishing out his phone from his pocket, “Let me check.”

“Oh, then it’s fine—”

“Do you want me to cancel it?”

“No! No, it’s fine!”

“It’s okay, I can just postpone it—”

“That’ll mean that you’re cancelling for me.... and you know, you don’t have to.”

“It’s just dinner with Jimin. Fact-checking is important for your article, right?” He says quietly, while his eyes come slowly round and rivet themselves upon your face.

You don’t miss the twinkle in his eyes, igniting a blaze deep in your bones and washing your senses away. All of a sudden, your throat feels constricted, breaths coming out short. You’re hyperaware of how close he is and to be honest, you feel like you’re standing in a room that’s on fire, too hot for the chilly evening which has a very high chance of rain.  

Even if you continue to insist that you despise him, you can’t help but admit that somewhere deep down, something between the two of you is now different. 

Exhaustion creeps up onto Taehyung, the pain in his arms manifested in his back as well, gradually sneaking into his legs until all his limbs are aching and stiff. Hunched over on a bench, he grits his teeth in frustration, nails digging the skin of his palms, while hot tears threaten to spill.

On Friday, you’ve walked into the team huddled in a circle, frowns all over their faces, a congealing tension evident in the air. From the clamour, it seems that one of the boys have gotten injured during practice and the team was split into two on who to be held responsible and whether there was any foul play involved.

From the sidelines, you watch Taehyung order everyone to shush and makes everyone sit down for a deconflict session. He appears surprisingly calm and addresses the issue in a collected manner. Afterwards, he invites the team to share about how they feel, allowing the conflict to openly spoken about and viewed from different perspectives. He listens attentively, like he always does with you, and speaks clearly and practically, easing the tension in the air till their teammates start coming to a consensus.  

When he sees you standing at the sidelines, he gives you a small smile that you easily see through and approaches you after making sure that his teammates are cool with one another and reminds them that whatever happens on the field stays in the field.

“So um,” you begin quietly, treading carefully around his feelings, “Are fights like that common?”

You already know the answer from looking at the size of the dark bags under his eyes. He is slowly breaking down, but still holding tightly onto the carefree façade that he puts on for show, for the team. It’s also mid-terms period and from the earlier interviews, you remember that he is on a scholarship that he cannot afford to lose because his parents are struggling to send his other siblings to school as well.

Contrary to popular belief, Taehyung isn’t an open book. He’s more of a sealed book, covered in dust and trapped in a forgotten corner of a bookstore. He has his own elusive way of dealing with ways, befriending people, treasuring the people and things around him, but he has also his own way of hiding his feelings. He hates the idea of being vulnerable with people.

He is a combination of hot and cold – sometimes you feel like he’s an old friend because of the emotional compatibility and his comfortable presence, but sometimes, he just goes back to being the cocky fuckboy he is. Maybe that’s just part of the jock persona – to deceive people into thinking that he’s more than that. But in all honesty, that’s not Taehyung and you wouldn’t compartmentalise him like that or homogenise him as just another fuckboy no matter how much you dislike him.

You think you’d know him quite well from having shadowed him the past week. It has come to your realisation that you’re no longer at each other’s throats and his annoying retorts have significantly decreased, but you’re not sure whether it’s because he’s just tired from everything to go out of his way to be annoying. But you don’t have any complaints.  

He lets out a dry chuckle at your question, his words sounding sugar crystalised and rough in his throat, “Are you asking this as a friend or as a reporter?”

“We’re friends?”

“We–”

Some threads of a biting remark begin to sew themselves together in his mind, but he stops instantly, too tired to really fabricate anything, much less bother to speak.

“Taehyung,” you call out after drawing a furtive breath, “Don’t doubt yourself. You’re a great friend and captain.”

Your soft and sincere tone permeates through Taehyung’s every last prickle of frustration, especially when you offer him a reassuring smile, “What you did out there was one of the selfless acts I’ve ever seen in a leader. And this should mean something, you know, considering that it’s coming from me.”

“Of course I am, I’m actually nicer than I look.”

“I know you’re kidding, but I’m trying to be serious here and on the off chance you’re not, fuck off.”

He remains quiet.  

“I’m serious though. It’s obviously not easy being the captain, but it’s clear that you have rightfully earned the respect from all your teammates. You handled it quite well without being biased or losing your cool.”

“I did?” His tone, deep in timbre, is so quietly surprised that it gnaws at your heart.

“Yeah.”

“Conflicts like that are a daily occurrence,” he mumbles, “But they can really break or make our teamwork and… the momentum for me as their captain, so I have to try? I have to be responsible for my guys.”

You watch how a cocky smirk instantly settles itself on his lips right after you think that he has opened up, “But I might be just great at forming relationships and team-bonding.”

“Judging from how you treat the girls around you, I don’t think that’s completely true.”

“Girls around me?”

“You’re a fuckboy. I don’t think it’s safe to say that your relationships with girls are great.”

“It’s just sex, no big deal.”

“And that gives you the right to play with their feelings?”

“Of course not, we just hook up that’s all. No hard feelings. It’s just sex with no strings attached and they all know it. Before I hook up with someone, I make it very clear that I’m not looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun.”

“Okay, but let’s say for example, a girl does end up falling for you. Is that solely her fault?”

He stops to think.

“For now, I just don’t wish to get involved in anything serious. I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with feelings.”

You scrunch your nose up in distaste when Taehyung shrugs his shoulders casually, dismissing the conversation.

You’re not someone who is easily lost for words, always quick to retort with a witty comeback, especially when it’s with Taehyung. But this time, all you could mutter is an “I see”, before pretending to focus on writing on your notepad. For some reason, you feel like your heart just took a dip. The thought of him playing around with girls leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but you can’t comprehend why. Since when did you care what Taehyung does with his life? You never did before.

Maybe it’s because at the back of your mind, you know that your said example might not exactly be one. Maybe.

Sunday arrives quicker than ever. In retrospect, you know this day would come – in fact, you’ve been waiting for this day ever since Yoongi assigned you the profile. But there’s just something – sort of a difference in the air surrounding you and Taehyung – that kneads at your heart about this coming to an end. Whatever this is.

He doesn’t say a word when you take a sip from the tumbler that he gave you, but you’re pretty sure that the way his eyes instantly lit up with a smile to match says it all.

“Oh right! Have you eaten breakfast? I, um,” he coughs awkwardly, hand scratching the back of his hand with a nervous smile, “made some sandwiches this morning.���

He turns around to his sports bag and fishes out a lunchbox, “Strawberry cream sandwiches!”

“My grandparents own a strawberry farm, so I get all the best strawberries!” He beams, and his eyes turn into little sparkly crescents. At that, your heart skips in two, one half in your throat and the other down in your gut.

“Not to be biased, but these are the tastiest and sweetest strawberries ever. Oh! After Japanese strawberries, but don’t tell my grandparents. They’ll be sad.”

“Anyways, try it,” he hands you a sandwich and you take a moment to observe how it screams Kim Taehyung at his finest. He has trimmed the bread crusts (his nemesis) and added a shit ton of cream cheese.

Taehyung’s crescent-like eyes are now staring straight into you as he watches you bite into the sandwich, anticipating for your reaction. There’s something in his gaze that makes your limbs heavy. It makes you feel trapped and lost in the depths of his eyes, warm and inviting.

You smile at the sweet and sour taste and he literally jumps with joy, flashing his honeyed cheeks.

“It’s good, right?” He chirps, beckoning you to eat more and you ignore how Taehyung’s cheeks are fully stuffed and how he chews with a natural pout on his lips.

For a moment, the world seems to be out of space and time as you sit on the bench, savouring the sweetness of everything. Taehyung is looking at you and the moment is lengthening. He becomes severely tongue-tied, no longer knowing what to say, but yearns for this moment to stay the way it is.  

“Nice weather, huh?”

“Talking about the weather now?” You ask in a bemused tone and he puffs, rolling his eyes playfully, but the growing tingle of pink on his cheeks doesn’t escape your notice.

“I-I mean... It’s nice.”

A softness settles into the lines of Taehyung’s face, and you can’t bring yourself to look away when his eyes land on yours, “It’s nice being here with you.”

And he means it. He generally feels good around you. He isn’t an anxious or socially awkward person, and he’s got tons of friends, but he still finds himself putting on a mask with most of them. A slightly louder, a more playful and enthusiastic version of himself. He almost always becomes the life of the party, the person who makes things easier and more comfortable for everyone else – breaking the silence, making jokes, drawing people out of their shells and easing them into conversations. He likes being that kind of person.

But it does get tiring, sometimes.

He likes being quiet, sometimes.

Sometimes, he just likes to curl up on the couch in his PJs and not feel like he has to be Funny! Loud! And gregarious! All at once. On some days, he just wants to laze around and watch anime till his eyes bleed. On some days, he just wants to be a normal college student without a team to manage and reputation to uphold.

You roll your eyes at his sudden confession, hoping that the warmth that sits high on your cheeks isn’t that obvious, but it probably is, from the way your heart ensnares at how Taehyung’s lips are stretched so widely across his face, his crescent eyes crinkling so adorably that you find yourself smiling too.

“You’re a loser,” you tease, shoving him lightly.

Then Taehyung is laughing, highlighting the undertones of oak and berries. He is laughing so hard that his stomach hurts and his chest aches with a drumming sound against his ribcage. Soon, laughter pokes its way across your glassy eyes, with tinges of amusement waltzing in your orbs, and pink cheeks and you’re doubling over him, with tears in your eyes and nose all scrunched up. Taehyung is holding onto you and the moment is lovely, everything is lovely.

You’re lovely.

Taehyung raises his arm to ruffle your hair, stirring up a mini tornado within you and chuckles again when you jump slightly.

“Gotta say that I’d miss having you around. You and your pesky presence. Can’t believe a week just went by just like that.”

“Rude,” you half-heartedly taunt, pushing his hand away, while a corner of your mouth curls up in retaliation.

“It was fun being your side hoe though. Do you know how many glares I’ve received by strangers, literally girls I’ve never seen before in my entire life, in the hallway? Imagine the power I have.”

“What side hoe?” He chuckles boyishly and your breath hitches, “You’re as good as my main.”  

Your heart pulses erratically in your chest, cheeks flushed with a warmth that matches the one that blooms in your heart. The way he makes your heart soar terrifies the fuck out of you.

“Not sure if I should feel honoured.”

“You know, I actually don’t know how we ended up like this. You hated me for the longest time and now we’re sitting here.”

“I did hate you, all right.”

“You have such a personality.”

“That’s another way of calling me a bitch.”

“As in… vibrant, colourful, I don’t know how else to describe you. You’re rude and endearing at the same time – it’s weird.”

The most adorable of smiles form on his face as he lets out a wholehearted laugh, it makes your insides melt.

A grin moulds on your face that resembles his own, “And you’re still a huge pain in the ass.”

“Still a bomb ass that I’ll tap.”

Later in the day, you receive a text from Taehyung. It’s not the first time that he has texted you. But little did you know that he would be a freaking double texter.

[from annoying ass jock] [18:49] hey you [18:49] do you want to grab dinner [18:49] i am very hungry right now lol [18:49] i mean you’re probably hungry unless you’ve eaten? [18:49] take this as a goodbye dinner, celebratory dinner wtv [18:51] feel free to say no tho HAHAHAHA

[you] [18:53] stfu I wasn’t going to say no [18:53] clam down [18:54] i’m kinda craving for a good burger and cheese fries

The night passes by smoother and faster than expected. Maybe it’s because you don’t realise the possibility of it being a date. The way Taehyung has asked you for dinner seems rather impromptu, so you’ve completely eliminated the idea of it being a date.

On the other hand, Taehyung himself knows that this is a date. While you’re cutting into your burger, he is furiously chewing on his fries, struggling to believe that you had even taken up his absurd offer of eating dinner together. On a Friday evening. With him. Is it a sign of peace? Or even something more?

He offers to walk you back to your dorm after that, telling you that he needs to walk off his burger. When he walks side-by-side with you, you focus at how he is so tall, how his height literally hovers over you, doing nothing but darkening the pink high on your cheeks.

When he stops in his track abruptly, you have to tilt your head upwards to look at his face, and each passing streetlamp casts his already golden skin in an orange glow, throwing tiny suns in his eyes into orbit.

Tonight is a little different.

The way he’s looking at you is a little different.

He takes your palms into his and starts playing with your fingers, allowing the two of you to stew and bask in the quiet contentment of the night.

His other hand rests gingerly on your waist, before bringing you closer to him. Then you find his lips graze the shell of your ear and shudder at his warm breath on your skin, inviting the rise of gooseflesh to scatter all over your body.

Your mind goes blank. All you can only think about how his touch on your waist burns, how ticklish his breath is on your face, and how there are little awakening tingles that shoot up your spine every time his skin comes into contact with yours. How he’s so gentle with you as if you’re a delicate piece of art.

How much you want him to kiss you.

Honestly, it takes you by surprise how much you actually want him to do just that, how much you’ve unconsciously thought about this so often that you can already imagine the ghost of his fingers down the cleft of your chin.

A fizzle of electricity runs down your spine when he brings your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to each finger, before he brushes over your knuckles to intertwine his fingers with yours.

He’s looking at you with as much certainty as you know that he’s going to sweep in and kiss you. You offer him a smile, and it is all the reassurance Taehyung needs before he leans in to press his lips against yours. Something akin to fireworks explodes inside you, colouring your insides and nerves with rainbow sparks. It makes you feel so alive.

The gentle brush of skin becomes static charge. He takes his time with you and kisses you like he’s always had the intention of doing so, like this isn't a spur of the moment catastrophe. Like he wants more of you, needs a taste of what he’s been yearning for the longest time.

You are abstrusely drawn to Taehyung. Like planets condemned by gravity to collide, you two have become yoked as one. It’s the headiness of his scent, the taste of his lips, his tongue that carefully darts over your bottom lip and seeks entrance. It’s the way he’s kissing you, so different, so soft and gentle, like it’s grounded in something you can’t quite place, compared to the first kiss.

Taehyung’s lips are soft like the cup of his hands around your face, but it is the settling of the repeated brush of his mouth against yours that makes you almost melt into the ground.

Nipping lightly at your lower lip, his lips curl up into a smirk when he hears a gasp escape from your mouth, your heart ricocheting in your chest.  

It’s an amalgamation of teeth, hidden feelings and pure adoration that are coming to a head and finally bursting – absolutely everything you wanted and more. But even when your tongues tangle with one another, it is more sensual and romantic than hasty and lustful.

The night is upon you when he parts from you moments later, allowing you to catch the breaths that have escaped from your now swollen-red lips and come down from your highs. You’re staring at him with eyes laced with fondness, before he leans in to meet your forehead and chuckles to himself at how surreal everything is.

You shouldn’t be feeling so happy, so satisfied, but you feel like you’ve been moon-struck. God, you can’t even figure it out yourself. Not when you’re tucked into his broad sturdy chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head and hand resting gently around your waist. Listening to his heartbeat. Though you’re aware that he isn’t looking for anything serious, you want to believe that maybe, just maybe his heart is beating as thunderously as yours because he’s serious this time.

“Not about to feint surprise at how you’re still alive because I’m going to need that profile from you, but I have to ask. Did you not sleep last night?” You look up to see Yoongi raising his eyebrow at you with suspicion.

“Ah, the appearance of negation in a question – my cup of tea. Do I reply yes or no to your pervasive question?”

“Very snarky today, I see. You look like melted ice cream, topped with tasteless sprinkles.”

“And you look like a boiled dumpling.”

“Thanks.”

“I was up doing work last night.”

“You’ve already handed up all your submissions,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“I know… I just… was,” you shoot Yoongi a pointed look, “thinking about stuff.”

The change in his expression lets you in that he knows exactly about what’s up, “Thinking about stuff, huh?”

“I’m just so—”

“Whipped for Kim Taehyung and I want to tap that ass. South Korea’s ass, yeah?”

“Disoriented. The word I was going for was disoriented, thank you very much. But also, what the fuck?”

“I said what I said.”

“I also said what I said. Don’t be gross.”

“Look,” Yoongi clears his throat, as if to brace himself for his forthcoming words, “I don’t really want to be involved in whatever feud or relationship you have – look how I didn’t overgeneralise because I’m generally confused. But one thing’s for sure. You clearly have feelings for him.”

“Yeah, of course I do. Anger, impatience and animosity.”

“You know what I mean,” he sighs in incredulity and gives you a look like he can look through your soul and tell that you’re lying through your teeth.

“What the fuck, dude? Kim Taehyung is just urgh. There is nothing good about that jock – all he knows is fucking around and getting onto my nerves. Seriously—"

“Seriously? You expect me to believe that? Don’t think I didn’t notice you smiling at your laptop while working on that profile? Or how you’re glued to your phone because he’s texting you or sending you memes?”

“What?” You blurt out in disbelief.

“Don’t fight me on that – you hate texting. I’m not blind, Y/N. He obviously ignited something in you.”

“What the fuck,” you snarl, “That’s disgusting. I don’t even know what’s so interesting about him, like why the heck are people so smitten by him. They must be blind or something. I swear that I’ve lost at least 10 years of my life from spending an entire week with him. Don’t know how I’m still alive.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t fucking understand why people put him on a pedestal. He’s really your typical jock? Another egotistical fuckboy. An airhead with no personality. I don’t understand why people like him so much—"

“Um… Taehyung…”

“What?” You flare up impatiently, acrimonious at how Yoongi keeps interrupting your hate speech, totally missing the grimace on his face.

“Y/N, Taehyung… He’s behind you.”

You spin around and your heart drowns in your chest.

The sight of Taehyung’s face of reticence at the door punches you straight in the gut. He shakes his head with a forlorn smile that you can easily see through and turns on his heels, walking away quickly.

Without hesitation, you run after him, your chest tightening with a disconsolate, stifling feeling, as if you’ve just swallowed a hard lump of cloud.

“Tae! I can explain–”

He turns around, maintaining his distance from you, “Gee Y/N, I didn’t know you hated me that much. I thought… thought that after spending all this time with me, your feelings might have changed. But you still… you still hate me, don’t you?”

“Taehyung, listen – I didn’t mean it. I j-just–”

His brows crinkled together in a tight wedge, eyes pressed shut.

“You meant it.”

“I–”

Your tongue feels heavy, like it’s made of iron.  

“You meant it,” he repeats, shoulders sunken low, crestfallen, and you swear, you see hurt in his eyes.

Your heart immediately falls with it, knowing that you’re the cause of his sadness. It feels like there’s a fist seizing your heart and squeezing it until it bursts and splatters all over the walls. When he walks away from you, the pain remains, unabated.

Only heaven and you yourself know how much you did not mean it.

When you wake up the next few mornings, it’s as if a shadow is lurking at the back of your mind.

There is a tirade running on loop in the back of your mind, the more you thought about it, the angrier you got. But anger is merely a convenient emotion that easily covered up for sorrow. You are angry at yourself for hurting Taehyung.

You’d never say it, but in between glances, hazy mornings at the field and the exchange of witty ripostes, your feelings for Taehyung have changed, unbeknownst to the world. You have no idea when it happened. When the lines that so clearly distinguished you from Taehyung became so blurred. When he stopped being irritating, an obstacle, an enemy and became something else entirely.

You don’t exactly know when you started to thaw and let your guard down to let him in, but you know that you… like seeing Taehyung smile. And you also know that you want to be one of the reasons for his smile.

Despite the overwhelming amount of work you need to attend to, these few days, you spend a lot less time working on your assignments like you should be and a lot more daydreaming about twinkling eyes and a distinctive laughter from a boxy smile. It doesn’t go past your notice – how your heart goes all erratic when a particular football player is around, his sunshine smile radiating the darkest part of your mind and threatening to break your steely, collected demeanour into bits.

You have been so scared to let him in, so afraid to let yourself fully submerge in the comfort of his touches, in the calm that envelops you when Taehyung is beside you, listening to you ramble, or when he looks at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

You tell yourself that you’d be fine. That life goes on. That Taehyung is just another almost and you can live without talking to him again like how your life was before this whole shit-show. But you remember the current that zaps you whenever he brushes his hand against yours, the ricocheting of your heart whenever you find him staring at you. You also think about the little crinkle at the edges of his eyes whenever he laughs and the music of his laughter that you’ve grown to adore. Little did you know, the warmth at the pit of your stomach has long built a house to reside in and it’s yearning for its owner to come home.  

It hurts.

It hurts because Taehyung has the prettiest, purest and brightest of all souls. He views the world in a different light with all his little quirks. You adore his ardent love for classical jazz (he accidentally played his music out loud when you were with him and gave you a whole lecture on and you didn’t stop him for he spoke so animatedly with stars in his eyes), for strawberries and his family that he would have been a farmer with his grandparents if he didn’t attend college.

Because when he loves, he loves so fiercely, softly and dearly, like the first snow, like the fresh dew on a perfectly bloomed rose. Soon, the gentle heat of the morning will send him back to the clouds and the bloom will raise her head, calling to the summer bees. Taehyung flows like honey in your soul and makes you feel so whole, but vulnerable at the same time.

He’s a dream come true, a daydream, a part of the labyrinth where reveries rest. He’s just so wonderfully and ethereally endearing.

The ache in your chest throbs especially when you spot a cute dog on the way to the café downtown and whip out your phone to snap a picture to tell Taehyung that it’s one of Yeontan’s little friends. You almost hit the send button, but your thumb freezes into place when you remember.

Right.

He’s never going to talk to you again.

It also hurts extra bad when you’re glued to your laptop, fingers hacking away to finish up the feature article on the said boy, writing about the true Kim Taehyung that currently, only you know of. But he probably hates your face right now.

“Hey, you’re—”

“Yoongi, no. I’m not alive. I’ve never felt more dead before.”

“I was going to commend you for being here today after you know, yesterday’s incident.”

He grabs a chair and sits by you and a dreadful sigh escapes from your lips because you’re well-aware that Yoongi is going to make you talk. He isn’t the type to let you ignore your feelings, preferring in honest and open communication even if it pains you to talk about your feelings because you’re so emotionally constipated.

“How are you?”

Burying your face in your hands, you somehow manage to choke out the words lodged deep in your throat, “Feel like shit. I thought I hit rock bottom. But now it’s rock bottom, 50 feet of crap and then me.”

If Yoongi notices the tremble of your fingers, he doesn’t comment on it and you’re grateful for that.

“Tell me more.”

It’s not a question.

God, you hate it when he presses. Fuck journalists and their persistence of sticking their noses into other people’s business. You want to laugh at how ironic this is.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you laugh dryly and cringe at how fake it sounds.

You have your usual self-defensive answer rolling off the tip of your tongue, “I am just another dumb bitch who fell for him.”

“You know, if you’re going to continue being like this, I don’t really know how to help you.”

“I’m not kidding. I feel so dumb for liking him. In fact, one part of me is fucking furious that I’m so vulnerable right now. I hate feelings.”

“First of all, you’re not dumb for liking him. And second of all, human beings are vulnerable and all feelings, no matter how small or insignificant or cliché they are, are all valid. That’s how we grow.”

He continues sagely, “Look, whatever happened between you two is a mess. So you hated him last time, but you’ve developed feelings for him, and that’s all that should matter, no? Don’t refuse your feelings just because you know, you’re too ashamed or scared to acknowledge them.”

Your mouth opens and then snaps close. You repeat this in your state of stupefaction as your brain tries to process everything that has occurred.

“Does it matter if I acknowledge my feelings?”

He doesn’t answer.

“He told me that he isn’t looking for anything serious. Just meaningless sex and fun. I literally just played myself.”

“I don’t exactly know what Taehyung feels about this. But what I know is that they have their first game in a few days and he hasn’t been doing well. Coach has been going really hard on him. You should go talk to him, yeah?”

“Yoongi,” you whisper helplessly, “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

He puts his hand atop yours as a form of comfort and suddenly, everything seems okay. Even if it is just in that moment.

Before you clock out of the editorial room, Yoongi sends you back with your article to vet through before giving the green light to the designers. Scrolling all the way to the bottom of the document, you realise that Yoongi hasn’t fixed anything at all to the point that you wonder if he has accidentally sent the wrong version. Until you spot his message at the bottom in really tiny font because you know, Yoongi.

I said that you’re the only person who could cover this feature article and I wasn’t wrong. Well done. Hope you know that I’ll always have your back, alive or dead.

You decide to drop by football practice the next day. Lurking near the bleachers, you jump in horror when Jungkook spots you being suspicious. From the way his eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights upon the sight of you, you know that he’s aware of the recent happenings.

“Hey,” he offers you a small smile, but you could tell from the size of the dark bags under his eyes that he is shagged to the bone.

“Hi.”

“Y/N, right? You okay?”

You let out an awkward chuckle, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Cap is a mess?”

“Is he really?”

He laughs dryly, “Aren’t you here to confirm that?”

“Um—”

“Sorry, I just… the stress is getting to all of us. But especially to hyung. He’s being really grilled by Coach for the sudden dip in performance.”

“Right… I’m sorry… If I caused this. I just—”

Across the field, Coach’s whistle shrills through the air and you realise that it’s directed at Taehyung. From where you’re standing, his grunts are almost inaudible, but the sound of his voice still traverses the darkness of your mind.

“You know, this is the first thing hyung is being grilled by Coach. He’s always been Coach’s favourite, even right from the very start, so Coach doesn’t really know how to deal with him either. Hyung’s even worse than his freshman self. You know, hyung didn’t know shit about football when he first joined? It was a joke. He really worked his way up, even though all he wanted was just to play on the field.”

A sudden prick of guilt pinches at your chest.

“Hey Jungkook, could you do me a favour? Could you pass this to him? You can just leave it on top of his bag? I think he’ll know.”

When Taehyung hobbles into the locker room feeling like death after a vigorous grilling session, his legs almost collapse on the floor. But then he sees a lunch box atop his bag and runs towards it, huffing louder than usual, so hard that he feels like his lungs might collapse like his legs. And when he opens it, only to see a nicely packed strawberry sandwich with a little post-it note on top of it, he lets out a huge breath and for the first time in years after his grandmother’s passing, Taehyung cries.  

Don’t tell your grandparents (sorry!) but these are Japanese strawberries. Good luck for Sat, Yeontannie and I believe in your galaxy 💜

A big commotion startles Taehyung from his mandatory quiet time that he sets aside before each game. He’ll put on his headphones and play his jazz playlist to meditate for at least a good 10 minutes, allowing both his muscles and mind to rest. But even his noise-cancelling headphones can do so much in blocking out his rambunctious and adrenaline-filled teammates.

“Captain! Your girlfriend’s here!”

“Captain!”

“Tae!”

“Wha—”

Before Taehyung could even remove his headphones to bark at his teammates for disturbing his peace, the door that swings open reveals his very confusion, rendering him utterly speechless.

He sees you standing there with an apprehensive expression, looking out of place as fuck, and if it’s possible, Taehyung can hear the gears in your brain turning frantically from here.

When your eyes land on Taehyung sitting across the room, the first thought that pops into your mind is that it feels like eons since you’ve last seen his face. It’s only been a few days, but you miss seeing him. You miss him so fucking badly.

He looks tired. There are dark circles painting his under-eyes and frown lines on his forehead and that doesn’t sit well with you, because there’s always either an annoying smirk or a bright smile plastered on his face.

For moments and moments, your eyes rest on the boy in front of you, drinking in his presence – the coruscating eyes and pretty lips behind his inspired, untiring voice.

“Hi,” he breathes with an indifferent expression, removing his headphones hastily before he stands up to close the gap between the two of you. The nervous flickering of your eyes doesn’t escape his notice.

“Hey,” you whisper back, lips quivering. There are many more words on the tip of your tongue, but the prevailing fear that catches in your throat freezes your lungs.

The boys have filed out of the locker room to give you two some privacy and now the world is basking in their awkward, ricocheting off the window in a quiet plea for noise. It is so quiet that if you focus more, you could hear the erratic thumping of your heart.

“How’s your article?” Taehyung asks and silence comes to splinter like a stone thrown at a wall, colliding with it and shattering like lightning bolts.

A frown settles itself on your temple at how he is trying to make everything seem all right. How the first thing he does is ask you about your article when you’re the one clearly at fault and he isn’t even showing signs of anger towards you. How could he be so selfless?

“It’s fine,” you mumble, “But I’m not here to…. I’m…”

Without warning, you go on your toes and reach for the rosy flesh on his mouth. At your touch, his entire body softens. It feels like there’s a cavernous hole in his aching heart.

“I’m sorry, Tae.”

Taehyung gives you a little nod, his way of saying it’s okay, before closing his eyes until they disappear in the shadows of his long black lashes.

You kiss him with profound earnestness that had been missing during the first kiss, dusting kisses over every inch of his blushing features, until you’re breathless, dizzy with want. There’s this inexplicable spark of desire growing within you and warming your body from inside out. Your heart longs for him, marvels in how right it feels to be in his arms, to kiss him, to be as close to him as possible.

Gosh, you’ve missed this so much.

Taehyung’s hands find your face, cradling your cheeks as if you’re the most delicate flower he has ever encountered, as if your petals would tear apart if he wasn’t gentle with you. He doesn’t look away from your eyes, searching your gaze silently. Now that you’re here, standing right in front of his very eyes, it makes everything all the more painful.

You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him into another gentle kiss, falling onto him like moonlight on a window seat.

“Princess…” He calls for you, voice deep and huskier than you’d ever heard it, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine, “You know that I’m physically incapable of being angry or upset with you.”

The two of you move silently in each other's orbits, solitary planets in a lonely galaxy.

“I’m sorry for everything,” you whisper against his lips as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay, love. I’m just happy that you’re here.”

More words are lost on his tongue as he seizes the opportunity to drink in the sight of you, his eyes trace the outline of your visage, from the curve of your nose to the arch of your philtrum and down to the soft of your lips.

“Are we just going to stare at each other until the buzzer rings?” You joke.

“Can I? I haven’t looked at your face enough lately,” he laughs, “Missed your face. A lot.”

His eyelashes brush against his cheeks, following the stare of your eyes into deep brown irises. When he leans a fraction of a space closer, his bangs brush softly against your forehead.

“Taehyung…” You breathe out, reaching out to caress his face, fingers brushing away his bangs from his eyes, “Can I ask you something?”

“As a friend or a reporter?”

“Neither,” you reply, “I just wanted to know… Since when?”

“Since when?” He tilts his head.

“Since when did you start having feelings for me?”

He laughs like it’s an obvious question, tugging the fallen strand of your hair behind your ears. His expression is hard to decipher, it’s a combination of amusement and endearment, but he is smiling so widely that it’s almost blinding.

“I’ve always liked you, Y/N. Remember when Yoongi-hyung introduced you to me and you were angry about something?”

“I’m always angry about something.”

“I thought you were interesting as fuck.”

“You’re fucking weird.”

“Okay, but can you at least tell me why you hated me?”

“Fine. It’s because… Iwasjealousathowyou’regoodateverything.”

“W-What?”

“I was jealous… because you’re good at everything. Like without even trying. And I thought it was plain unfair, because people like me need to work so hard to do well, while there are people like you who are just… born talented.”

“I—”

“But after getting to know you, I realised that I’ve completely misunderstood you. You hide a lot of things about yourself, but you’re incredibly humble and hardworking even though you’re fucking annoying and cocky. And you’re so selfless, you offer help to your teammates when you notice them struggling. And you’re also so nice to everyone, you make them feel comfortable. Y-You kind of bring light to everyone around you. That’s just your charm, I guess.”

You reach out to hold his hand, but he beats you to it, taking your palm into his. He starts playing with your fingers, mapping every whorl of the ridges on your fingertips.

“Remember the day Yoongi introduced us to each other? It was also the day I failed my scholarship interview. I was up against you and there was only one slot left. You got it, so when you were teasing me for being grumpy, I kind of took my anger out on you. Felt like you were making fun of me.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, “I was smiling at you because I found you cute, dumbass. I kept pestering Yoongi-hyung to introduce me to you so when he finally, I was so nervous and didn’t know how to behave in front of you. I didn’t even know that I was up against you for the scholarship.”

When Yoongi first introduced you to Taehyung, he thought that you two would hit off long. But he didn’t take into account the fact that Taehyung and you are polar opposites – your petulance and Taehyung’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a stark juxtaposition. So when Taehyung opened his mouth and told Yoongi (right in front of you, bitch) that you looked like you were about to cry, his chin tilted up slightly, one eyebrow cocked, right after you found out that you failed your scholarship, so it was a straight-up no for Kim.

“Well, we’re both dumb.”

You look away in faux-annoyance, desperately trying to prevent your cheeks from igniting under the warm gaze that deftly lights upon you. “Long story short: I’m mean and I don’t deserve you.”

He cups your face with a smile so bright that his nose scrunches up adorable, “What are you on about? We were made to complete the living hell of each other.”

This prompts another fond smile to play on your lips, one so tight it hurts your cheeks.

When you realise that time’s running out, you tip-toe to press another kiss on his cheek, “For good luck. Go out there and get the trophy for me, bitch.”

The smile you give is soft and pink-cheeked, but familiar in every kind of way and for the umpteenth time, Taehyung gets the fucking air truly knocked out of his lungs. He’s a goner.

“You know,” his eyes are soft and there’s a wisp of a smile on his rosy lips, “I’ll get you the moon if you asked. But you deserve so much more than just the moon, Princess.”

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that you have almost always wanted to kiss Kim Taehyung. From the very start. And if there’s one thing that you don’t, it’s that the same boy will almost always kiss you back until you’re drowning in honey.

After Taehyung receives the trophy and lifts it high in the air for everyone to see with his teammates cheering around him, the entire ordeal almost has you in tears and you run to him, pressing kisses and bites down necks and collarbones. The ministrations don’t stop even when the two of you waltz-dance and skip all the way to his apartment, never getting enough of each other’s touches.

Taehyung’s fingers knot in your hair, controlling the kiss, his other hand finding purchase on the curve of your waist and teeth digging into the swell of your lower lip. You let out a whine that only encourages Taehyung to press against you closer and kiss you harder, in such a primal way that has heat swirling in your belly and wetness to pool between your thighs.

Your fire to him is the most peerless of lights.

Adrenaline runs through his entire body, lighting up his nerves like fireworks as he removes your shirt and openly soaks in the sight of your body, how your breasts are cupped by your lacey bra and how you’re blushing fervently.

“So pretty for me. All for me.”

You don’t miss the way he growls and licks his lips, eyes hooded as he stares at you like you’re a piece of meat that he can’t wait to devour. And his actions prove his ardent hunger when he grabs your chin and tilts it to the side, before attaching his lips greedily to the skin on your neck and licking a stripe over the flesh. He carries on nibbling on the sensitive part of your skin, sucking and biting in a way that is sure to leave you crying for more.

“Wow, and I thought you’d be tired after the game.”

He is already breathing heavily as he towers over you, biting back his moans, rocking his hips upwards for some needed friction.

“Can’t be tired when I’m just getting started with you.”

He pushes you onto the bed and comes crawling to hover over you within seconds as he connects his lips aggressively with your neck once more. While he continues to suck faint lilac bruises into your skin, you can’t help but jut your hips firmly against his, an instinctive reaction to feel more of him.

He groans loudly and this spurs you to give another experimental roll of your hips over his. This time he freezes and accidentally bites down on your neck a little harder than before which earns another sharp gasp from you, but this only douses the flames licking your abdomen. He leans back to apologise, but his words are lost at the tip of his tongue when you continue to grind against him shamelessly. His hands fall to your hips, nails digging firmly in place, and holds you down against his raging boner that now pokes at your inner thighs.

Thrashing in Taehyung’s grip, you sit up, hands finding the courage to explore the soft material of his shirt. Running your fingers over the buttons, you hastily tug it off him, lingering your fingers over his bare skin that you desperately want to kiss with your lips, lick with your tongue and mark with your teeth as yours.

You feel his hunger swallow you whole, his gaze leaving trails of fire as they run all over your body, electrifying you all over.

“Can I eat you out?” His voice is deep, much huskier than ever, and the timber of it sends shivers raking down your spine.

“God, why did you ever think that I would say no?”

In the briefest of moments, Taehyung tugs your shorts down with a grunt. Your eyes lock briefly, heat blooming like a stove burner, flaring up with that low flickering blue when you notice the pure, unadulterated lust in his concupiscent eyes. Fizzy warmth floods your belly, the knot of lust tightening within your abdomen.

His hands rub at your thighs, spreading them widely as he moves down the expanse of your body. There’s a raw power hidden in his hands and it’s tantalisingly arousing to feel those fingertips pressing into the meat of your thighs, wandering under you to squeeze at your ass.

Leaning in, he begins to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses over your bare torso, before trailing lower to your inner thighs and giving them a few kitten licks. You squirm underneath him at the intimacy, while an involuntary gasp leaves your lips at the sensation of his warm breath and lips dusting across your sensitive skin. The sudden stimulation leaves you aching for his lips to be somewhere else, somewhere where it’s throbbing to be touched, to be filled.

Taehyung seems to sense exactly what you want and the next thing you know, you’re falling back onto your elbows and his nose is pressed into the cotton of your underwear. He inhales deeply and groans, eyes cloudy with lust and pleasure, relishing the unbidden scent of your arousal.

Fucking hell.

The hot of his tongue starts teasing your bud through the sheer fabric, sucking through your underwear. Timidly, you lift your lips up, seeking for friction, but Taehyung doesn’t relent, pushing you back down.

“Gotta be patient, Princess.”

When he finally, like finally, removes your soaked underwear, he dips his head between your thighs and licks a long, languid strip along your folds. This elicits a loud keen from you, hips bucking but he winds his arms under your legs and over your hips to properly restrain you. He begins slowly again, lapping up your juices like a man starved, his satisfied whimpers sending vibrations straight to your clit.

“You smell so fucking good,” he continues on to wrap his plush lips around your clit, growling against your pussy and you feel it vibrate deep in your core, “But taste even fucking better.”

Ecstasy washes over you and you cry out, pleasure hot and sharp shooting through your veins to feed the tightening coil in your abdomen as you writhe in his iron grasp, fingers grasping for purchase at his hair.

“Can fucking eat you out all day, want to bet?”

His teeth scrape lightly against the nub when he speaks, and your back arches at the pleasure. He continues to slurp up whatever you offer him, before giving in to your unspoken request, trailing a finger up your folds and sliding it in.

You’ve always known that Taehyung has long, slender fingers – you’ve noticed how long and pretty they are when they’re wrapped around the football, when he waves to you and when he plays with your fingers. And perhaps, you’ve thought about him doing things to you with those fingers before, but now that he has his finger in you, you cannot emphasise how otherworldly it feels. Fucking delirious.

His long digit meets no resistance, instantly enveloped in the tight, slick heat of your core as he goes in knuckle-deep and adds another finger, and it makes you feel so full that you’re losing your mind. You scream even more when he fucks you deep with both his knuckles and the flat of his hot tongue, bringing the inklings of stars behind your eyes.

His fingers continue to pump into you in a quicker succession that has you trembling and keening. Your pussy gushes at his merciless, erratic flicks and pokes at your hot spots, clenching around his fingers and soaking them in your intoxicating sweetness. Shockwaves begin to tear through you and you’re coming too hard and too fast. But Taehyung doesn’t stop and continues to suck harder to help you ride out the pleasure, the squelch of his tongue lapping at your juices filling the entire room in their entirety.

“Please, Tae, please I’m c-close. Your fingers… Fuck. Feel so good. Fuck, fuck!”

You’re dripping, leaking even by now and when he detaches away from your clit to look at you, you can see your own juices glisten on his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. The throb in your core has never been more torturous.

He leans in to give your clit another chaste kiss and your hips buck up instantly into his face as he gathers the arousal onto his tongue, tasting the heavenly mix of your juices and his saliva.

“Does Princess want to taste how sweet she is? Princess likes my fingers, doesn’t she?” He purrs, coating your juices with his fingers and holding them up so you can see how they coruscate in the dim light.

Nodding hazily, you open your mouth and he doesn’t hesitate to slide three of his digits in and you suck the evidence of your own bliss off his skin, enjoying your own taste and the weight and fit of his slender fingers in your mouth. Taehyung swallows in satisfaction and fervour at how dirty you look.

“Fuck, Y/N. Can’t wait to fuck you. Going to fuck you so good you can’t walk for days.”

A spark of a fire in the very core of your being, beginning to fizzle outward at his words.

Without warning, he pounces onto you, planting kisses on your jawline and down your neck again. When you crane your neck to give him more space, he takes his time, hard muscle of his tongue lapping at your sweet skin, lips sucking until a bruise begins to bloom.

“So fucking beautiful, God,” he croons, threading his fingers through your hair as he groans at how hot this is.  

“Taehyung,” you breathe, looking up through your eyelashes, vision hazy with lust, “Want your fat cock in my fucking mouth. Please?”

Taehyung grunts loudly at your crude request, rolling his eyes in a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. He wants your words, this exact memory, to be burned into the very cells of his brain.

“Yeah? Princess wants my dick?”

Pushing his sweats and underwear down with swift fingers, you watch how his dick slaps hard against his stomach. It is searing red at the tip, the head thicker than the shaft, begging to be touched.

You want to fucking sit on it, suck him till you’ve milked him of all his cum. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before, not when his long fingers are wrapped around his fat cock, giving it a couple of quick strokes. Fuck, his fingers can barely wrap around his dick and that itself makes you dizzy with arousal.

“Open wide, sweetie.”

You throw yourself in front of his thighs, mouth wide, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. You can’t help but moan out loud when Taehyung slaps the head of his dick against your cheek, spreading precum all over, and then on your tongue, before slowly feeding you his cock. Fuck, you feel so dirty.

Taehyung’s cock rests heavy on your tongue, throbbing in the wet heat of your mouth. You lick a long stripe with your tongue on the underside of his length, feeling the very veins that have popped out.

He doesn’t believe that it’s happening. He can’t, not at how he has dreamt about this more times than he can count with both hands, and now it is actually fucking happening.

He grunts, “Dreamt about this so many times. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off to this.”

“Jerked off to what?” You tease as your fingers wrap themselves around the base of Taehyung’s dick to keep it steady, massaging his balls every now and then, as you suck noisily around the tip. Running your tongue along the side of his shaft and then back up to swirl your tongue at his slit to lick at his precum, you rejoice in the almost pained whine he lets out.

“Jerked off to you on your knees, looking pretty as fuck, while sucking my fat cock,” he smirks, without blinking an eye at the announcement of his fantasy.

Shuddering at his words, you start to bob your head, taking a little more of him every time you go down until you’re choking and your eyes are watering.

“Fuck yeah, just like that. Does Princess want me to fuck her throat? Feel so full and good?”

A low groan rumbles from deep within his throat, bordering on animalistic, which sends tremors of desire to thrum through your veins.

Peering up through fluttering lashes at Taehyung with your plush lips stretched wide around him, you smile at his fucked-out expression and proceed to alternate licking between his balls and his hard shaft.

When you take his cock into your mouth again, you purr at the fullness of him, opening your mouth wider to take him deeper until he’s fucked himself to the hilt of your throat, your nose buried in the tussock of cleanly trimmed pubic hair at his navel.

“Not so snarky anymore now with my cock in your mouth, huh?”

You don’t reply. The darkness in your eyes is enough to send a punch of heat straight into the pit of Taehyung’s gut and he can’t help but buck his hips forward, sliding right into the wet, hot vice of your throat, fucking right into your throat ruthlessly, leaving you a whimpering, writhing mess.

You don’t stop suckling with your lips, coating his length in saliva and then pull off with a little 'pop’, your hands still working at the base of Taehyung’s cock, fondling his balls.

“C-Cum,” your lips gleam in saliva and precum, “Please… Cum on my face.”

“Want me to come all over your face, doll? You’re so fucking dirty.”

Taehyung grips at his cock, stroking it a few times, before he taps his cock against your cheek again. His mind is sent in turmoil when you stick your tongue out and before he knows it, he’s ejaculating in thick spurts all over your face.

You look so fucking pretty with globs of white all over your chin and cheek and Taehyung shivers in ecstasy, a growl ready at the back of his throat, “Y-You really have no idea what you do to me.”

You lick off what he can, relishing in the taste of Taehyung as you swipe your thumb over your mouth to coat it with his cum and suck on it, while your other hand reaches behind to squeeze his ass.

“You weren’t kidding about your ass,” you whirl, slapping his ass and loving the way it jiggles.

“Yeah? It’s all yours, Princess.”

Taehyung traces the knobs on the base of your spine with his other hand, finding warm and soft skin. You let out another desperate sound against your lips, feeling a shock of electricity zip through your back down to your very core.  

Arching your back, you throw your head back and Taehyung takes this opportunity and slips his tongue in the hot wet of your mouth and licks fervently at the four corners, rougher and needier this time round.

It’s as if all at once, something connects between you two. You find it impossible to breathe properly, hands fisted in Taehyung’s locks, dizzy and lightheaded and hot all over. Taehyung’s teeth scrape over your bottom lip. It’s almost impossible to pull away, but when you finally break apart, a strand of saliva connects your mouths together and it lands on your chest.

“Fuck, so dirty,” Taehyung’s eyes are golden, blown wide, and he smiles at you so dearly that it makes your chest gnaw. It’s the littlest of moments and softest of gasps that render you breathless. Every part of your body that Taehyung has touched feels like it’s on fire, but it’s the deep timber of his voice, almost a growl, that makes you feel like he’s melting.

“So wet for me.”

He yearns to memorize the map of your body, the trenches of the grooves on your lower back, the stars living in your eyes, the parts of your body that have you shuddering from the pleasure.

You can feel it, the tip of his cock brushing against your wetness and you let out a soft plea. Your stomach ties into a knot when he slaps his dick against your clit a few times, loving how his head is already soaked by your juices. When you search for his eyes, you see that his irises are long gone, blanketed with pure, unadulterated lust.

“Want you. Want you to fuck me with your fat cock, Tae.”

He has to bite his own flesh to suppress the feral moan threatening to drip from his swollen, red lips, “Fucking hell. Can’t believe you used to hate me. Now here you are, begging me to fuck you.”

Your breath hitches when you feel him enter you, his cock pushing against your walls and stretching you out so good. He eases his cock slowly until it fills you the brim, pushing against your hot walls until he can go no further.

“You’re so tight for me. Feels fucking good,” he breathes out with a hazy smile, and your eyes flutter closed.

He doesn’t move for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch and burn, before the wriggle of your hips urges him to move and he knows that he’s about to take you higher than ever. He lifts his lips to almost pull all the way out, the tip nestling an inch within your entrance, and without warning, slams back into your cunt, drawing a choked moan from the both of you as his length drags against your walls and hits a spot deep inside you.

Your back arches off the bed at the pleasure, a sharp cry leaving your lips.

“Fuck yeah, you like that princess? Going to be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck Taehyung. You feel so good.”

This only prompts him to repeat the movement a few more times, until he settles on pounding into you mercilessly with a precision that he flaunts on the field. He continues fucking into that same sensitive spot over and over again with no signs of slowing down, finally able to fulfil the primal, animalistic need and urge that has accumulated ever since the day he met you.

As his hips snap into yours, his palm remains gentle on your face, his tongue hot and assimilating your own so passionately and tenderly that it makes your heart melt. There’s just something so tangibly tender and sensual about the way he’s kissing you, while fucking you senseless, as if he wants you to know how much he wants this, how much he wants to give himself to you with each stroke.

How much love he has to devote to you.  

“Faster, faster, don’t stop, Taehyung. Fuck.”

You can feel every drag of Taehyung’s thick cock inside you, his ridges sliding against your walls and hitting that little bundle of nerves inside you that has got you babbling nonsense and your eyes rolled all the way up.

Screwing your eyes closed, the sparks glow brighter, and your moans heighten in pitch, while you sink your teeth into the swollen flesh of your lower lip. Above you, Taehyung learns that your mouth is sinful from the way you’re repeating curses and cries like a mantra and from the way drool is dripping down your chin. It’s just how unbelievably rough he’s fucking you, rough enough that you’re convinced there will be bruises all over your body and he’s going to rip you apart. But maybe that’s what you want, maybe that’s exactly what Taehyung intends to do to you.

“Say please.”

He then sits up and leans back to rest on his calves, before he hikes your leg up to rest over his shoulder, effectively folding you into half, and pulls you towards him roughly to fuck into you harder. You keen loudly at the new angle, how he’s able to fuck into you so much deeper, hands clawing at the sheets and dragging long, red marks on his back.

“Please, Taehyung. Please, you fuck me so fucking good.”

He smirks at how helpless you are underneath him and frees his hand from your thigh, reaching to search for yours, intertwining them tightly.

Which each thrust, the both of you grow closer to your impending orgasms, excitement curling in your abdomen along with pleasure that shoots straight to your core as Taehyung continues to pummel into your welcoming heat, strong thighs trembling against the backs of yours.

His other hand rest on your hips as his fingers squeeze and caress your skin each time you curse and whimper his name lasciviously, blending in with the symphony of skin slapping against skin, of his balls and thighs smacking against your ass that stirs the silence.

“I’m on the pill. Cum inside me, please. Want your hot cum in me.”

“Princess wants to be my personal cum-dumpster, doesn’t she?”  

Taehyung dips his head over your chest and takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking it lavishly as if the taste of you is suddenly too much to bear. You wail in pleasure, back arched all the way up, the grip on his hand tightening as your hips rise to meet the brutal thrusts of his hips, pleasure shooting white hot to join the heated desire in your core.

That’s all you need to lurch over the edge. The coil within your core suddenly snaps with the tension and then comes the onslaught of immense white-hot pleasure, curling and roaring like a beast in your stomach, the pressure between your legs immeasurably high. You clamp around him one last time, galaxies firing in the murky red of your eyelids as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

You know Taehyung’s close too – now faster, more erratic, as he chases his release relentlessly. For a moment, all you can see is glorious light, blinding your vision until it consumes you whole and you’re shaking ferociously.  

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when Taehyung comes hard with a harsh shudder and an animalistic growl from between his clenched teeth, thrumming at his warm seed inside you. He isn’t done with you yet though. When he pulls out, the emptying sensation of his cock being drawn out of your walls gives rise to another wail from you, but you forget all over it when he rubs the swollen tip of his dick against your clit in a circular movement, playing to its sensitivity and pushing in his cum inside you again. His personal cum-dumpster.

Taehyung kisses you once more just because he can, and then lets his eyes run over the girl in front of him and his mind goes blank because wow, that actually happened – and it certainly did, evident from the mussed hair, blown hazy pupils, lovebites all over flustered skin and the soft, dreamy smile belonging to a pair of swollen-red lips.

This, Taehyung registers despite the giddy turbulence in his mind, is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. So unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly beautiful that he can feel something in his chest splinter.

There’s a passing second of staring at each other, your cheek deep in the pillow, his head lulled against the headboard.

Taehyung lets out a chuckle, airy and filled with a rasp of post-sleep that would never come. He moves slowly, creaking the mattress in droning successions as he slips his arm around your waist, dusting little kisses on your nose before bringing up your hand to his lips. You realise that he likes doing that.

He stares at you for a long while, thumb over the back of your hand in tandem with the flick of his eyes, back and forth, between yours.

Even in the dark, Taehyung’s lovely flush is brilliant, otherworldly effervescent.  

“You know when you said those things to Yoongi, I knew you said it out of a fit, but I couldn’t help but be upset about it.”

“Tae—”

His lips quirk upward on the edges into something knowing, “Then I realised that this was the first time I was genuinely upset about someone’s opinion about me. I usually don’t care what people think of me. I mean I don’t live to impress them, so this made me realised that I actually care a lot about what you think about me. About how you feel about me, whether I’m just a dumb fuckboy to you or whether you see the real me.”

He presses another kiss to your knuckles and your entire body tingles with warmth, “Then it hit me. That you know, maybe I really, really do have feelings for you and I want you to like me too. Like for real. I know I said that I don’t have the time and energy to deal with feelings. But you… You drive me insane. I used to be cynical about being so vulnerable for someone, and it’s so scary how much you can yearn for someone’s attention and affection. It’s just crazy – the things you do to me.”

As his words spill into the spaces between you, you simmer in the comfortable silence, ignoring the sharp tugs at your heartstrings.

“Never thought I’d live to see this day,” he mumbles, before pressing a kiss to your forehead with an earnestness that heightens the tugs at your heartstrings.

“Talk about character development,” you joke, burying your face in his chest and finding solace in the warmth of the sweet honey gold that he possesses. His hand on your waist begins caressing the small of your back, bringing you closer to him, until his nose is settled in the crook of your neck.

“Looks like my YOLO-ing did me some good,” he whispers into your ear and there’s a resplendent lilt to his voice.

It takes you a while for you to realise that he’s referring to the fake quote you’ve assigned to him.

Taehyung smiles at your deadpan expression and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. His mouth is pulled into a rectangle and his eyes are curved into crescents. You realise this a long time ago, but you will finally admit to it now – Taehyung is beautiful. He is so beautiful that he could rearrange continent with that smile of his.

When he laughs and the moonlight catches on the flecks of gold in melted brown, that’s when you know that you’re struck with a love the size of the entire galaxy for him. To hell with your past hatred and feud with him, you’re just grateful to have your entire universe lying right beside you, right in this moment, under the burning light of the great, yellow moon that hangs heavy and radiant above the two of you.

that’s it. that’s the mammoth i’ve been brewing over the past few months (and rushing it like mad over the past two weeks)! i wanted to depict tae as accurately as possible so i made sure to include the little tiny details and quirks of his ;; did you know that he was the one who coined the term bread cheeks??? there’s a video of him comparing his cheeks to bread buns and i think that started the entire trend i’m just. i never want tae to be sad he has the purest and biggest heart

thank you so much for reading this and if you enjoyed it, please please hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ i love receiving asks and messages tho sometimes ;; i just disappear from the face of the earth. i literally post a fic every 6 months sobs but next up sugarplum elegy (and i promise i won’t take another 6 months, my aim to upload it is end june!) love you guys  much and remember to take care of yourself – i believe in your galaxy ☁️💫💜💞🌃✨

[elaphaemourra]

30 Questions Tag Game

Got tagged by @outcastcommander :DDDDD Thank!!!!!

Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag 5 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better. HI I’M ACTUALLY REALLY SHY SO I’M NOT DOING THAT LOL I’m just gonna say, if u wanna do Intro and see this, go for it, and also bonus if u r Friend, absolutely feel free and also say i tagged u bc Yes Friendship.

Name/nickname: Elaphae,  Ela is most common (and great!! i love it fjdklajs), some people on the swtor art server called me ‘inquis’ a couple times ljfdklas.  

Gender: Nonbinary :DDD

Star sign: Virgo-Libra cusp :3

Height: 5’4 WOOP i am Short

Birthday: September 21

Time: 12:48 pm >:3

Favorite bands: Green Day, Volbeat, The Longest Johns, Alestorm… a lot more.  I’m a nerd lol.

Favorite solo artists: uh h hhhhh  o-O  there are Many.  Aurelio Voltaire is pretty solid lol.  Good for the heart.  Also, I can’t listen to too much of his stuff bc it gives me a Crisis, but Bo Burnham.  Shit’s a Bop.

Song stuck in my head: The theme for the uruk-hai from lotr lol

Last movie: Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

Last show: fjdklasj i don’t watch tv lol, i can’t make my brain sit still for it.  Gotta be Interactive.

When did I create this blog: uh, shit, when WAS that?? WOW 2014.  3 more years and I’ll have spent a decade on tumblr.  Which is WILD.

What do I post: things that make me happy ;v;  mostly star wars and dragon age, and Assorted Random Shit i think jfdlkfjd.  I don’t actually know what  my blog makeup is but it Sure Is Something.

Last thing googled: ‘the song from lord of the rings when saruman shows off the uruk-hai’ lmfaoooo, i couldn’t remember the name of it so i went looking.

Other blogs: HOO BUDDY okiedoke:  @haospart (art blog), @swtorcompanionsgoofin (swtor blog), @lyriumdisaster (dragon age blog, which i’ll get back to once i’m done on the swtor end of this bioware pingpong table of interests, and then i’ll be hopping BACK to swtor bc it IS a pingpong table), i have studyblr that I Never Fuckin Use and have only posted on in the past 2 years to go ‘what the fuck why do u people keep following me’ bc I LITERALLY HAVE NOT TOUCHED IT IN LIKE 2 YEARS why does it keep gaining followers, and then a few like, ‘no don’t look me i’m Embarassed’ repositories jfdklsjaf.

Do I get asks: Very rarely, but yes!! Lmfao usually when i go ‘GIVE ASK PLS I LOVE ASK’ and people are reminded that i am, in fact, a very friendly marshmallow who does not mind interaction and also Definitely Craves people asking questions about my stuff fjdla.

Why I chose my url: This is kind of a convoluted thing, but like, the easy version is that it’s the name of my trooper on the leviathan server (now called Aea out of the game bc they were supposed to be my self-insert but then they escaped into the woods and developed a storyline for themself).  The LONG thing is that I have an oc named Regia Elaphae, who I modeled after pnigophobia, the fear of choking or being smothered, and I made her snake-themed.  Rex is the latin word for king--for king snakes--which i swapped to regina and then took out the n bc ‘Regina’ didn’t fit her, and Elaphe is the genus for rat snakes, but i found two ways of spelling it so i spelled it Elaphae, and when I got into swtor I decided to use Elaphae in reference to myself.  I replaced my old url with this one after i started playing that trooper of the same name, bc my old one was :I .  I was into hetalia in middle school, and homestuck, and when I got on tumblr that followed me into my url.  I’m not into hetalia anymore, or anime at all, and homestuck fell off my radar into the ‘i’ll go “hey i know that” if i see it, but i’m not in the fandom anymore’ pile.  For the longest time my blog description was ‘it’s been 5 years and i still haven’t changed my url’, but it was time for change fjdklasfaj.  It’s better this way.  

Following: 953 (it was over 1300 but i did some clearing out of my follow list a month or so ago lol, mostly of people who haven’t been online in 6 years)

Followers: 616

Average hours of sleep: 7 and a half hours, if i want to be Functional

Lucky number: 19 :D  I love 19, it’s always been my lucky number, always will be.

Instruments: I don’t play much, but I can sing and also I can play beladi on the doumbek.

What am I wearing:  Fox onesie lol.  I wear basically nothing else at this point in my life.

Dream job: i mean, ideally i could just Not and vibe fjdkla.  But i mean like, i guess something working with my hands.  I’m in college to get a degree in french, and my next step after that is to go to trade school, to get smth that’ll make me money so i can keep doing Nerd Junk and also learning bc i like, actually really like school lol.

Dream trip: I want to go back to Rennes.  I miss it.  It was awesome, and, hilariously, I miss being able to get a burger that isn’t Drowning in its own grease.  America doesn’t know how to do healthy burger that tastes good.  Europe knows what’s up tho. I also miss being able to like, have just a pitcher of room temperature water next to a cute little glass and have it not be weird.  The cups are too big in america, i drink so much less water bc it’s just too daunting.  I’m dehydrated constantly.  Also i miss the METRO.  I loved the metro, loved nyooming along in the trains, wandering around the central part of the city, it was cool.

Favorite food: Eel!!  Eel’s tasty as fuck.  I love it.

Nationality: American

Favorite song: o-o uhhhhhhhhhhh, i have no idea lol.  I listen to so much random shit.  lol according to my spotify 2020 rewind it’s Starlight Brigade, from TWRP and Dan Avidan.

Last book read: i have got ZERO clue what the last book i read was.  I mean, technically it was a textbook for my myth, magic, and folk religion class, but like, blegh.  Nah.  Not fun.  I think before that I started reading Metro 2033???  I have a copy in french, and am flipping between that and trying to fckn get through au revoir là-haut.

Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in:  

1. swtorrrrrrr, i wanna be a space wizard [slap slap slap on the metaphorical counter] give me space magic

2. Pellinor, y’all it’s medieval and magic and COOL and i’m a big nerd for that.  (these books are so good ;v;)  Also they got wine that makes cramps and headaches go away and magic baths, so like, fuck yes give me that sweet sweet painkiller juice.  It’s magic babey.

3. Thedas, bc dragon age, and like, when things Aren’t all fucked sideways to hell, there are just like, People.  Going about their days.  It’s great.  Also MORE MAGIC  Science is all fucked up in my vicinity, so like, how much can i fuck up the magic o3o

tl;dr on that fictional universes thing, i really want to be a wizard apparently fjdklasj.

[itsybitsyspiderling]

the reality of a nightmare

find it here on ao3 ! 

Summary: Peter has a bad dream about Tony. And then it starts to come true. Kind of.

Word Count: 5.7k

“Hey. Kid. Yoo-hoo. Earth to Web-Head. Web-Slingin’ Slasher. You awake?”

Peter had fallen asleep in Tony’s workshop again. By this point, the kid had lost count exactly how many times he’d done so. He was up to his waist in midterms and projects, and May had taken extra shifts at work, so when he wasn’t out Spider-Man-ing, he was covering the list of chores she left for him in the meantime. He even fixed up a few dinners for her so she had something in the fridge when she got home at an ungodly hour. Peter’s brain was running eight miles a minute, and he wasn’t sleeping.

He stirred, humming and rubbing at his eyes as he straightened his posture. “Mhm. Yeah. Totally.” As Peter adjusted his vision, his eyes fell to the slick surface of the workbench below where a small puddle of drool sat. Yuck. Gross. He wiped at his chin.

Tony stood behind his desk with a few dozen holograms surrounding him. He raised an eyebrow at Peter. “This is gonna sound gratuitous coming from me, but have you considered sleep? It’s this newfangled thing everyone’s ravin’ about. They’re awake all day and then go to bed at night. You should try it. Works wonders.”

Peter sniffed and nodded. He didn’t even feel tired, but sleeping was so much easier than staying awake. “Not for me,” he said. “Don’t like it anyway. The dreams are never good. There’s better stuff I could be doing.”

“Now that’s a red flag,” Tony muttered, and the holograms disappeared before him. He slowly meandered over toward Peter. “You good, then? School going okay? Grades fine? You can tell me if there’s something bothering you, Pete. Pretty sure we’ve established that the walls-down-protocol has been in effect since last November.”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” Peter said, and truly, he meant it. He felt fine, his grades were fine… all he wanted was for life to slow down a little. “Just got no time to breathe, s’all. Ready for summer.”

Tony nodded. “Sure. Yeah, actually, that reminds me––start thinkin’ about places to go for your sixteenth birthday. Any place. And don’t say Disney World.”

“Mister Stark, it’s just that I haven’t been there before, and––”

“A nightmare is what it is. It’s my worst nightmare,” Tony said. “Crowds and crying babies and water rides.” He shivered. “I couldn’t imagine any place else closer to Hell. Speaking of things that are hell, I dry-cleaned your suit. And repaired it. How many times have you gotten stabbed exactly?”

Peter chuckled dryly. He didn’t have the energy to work on whatever the hell he had been working on. If he squinted, it looked like some ugly prototype for a new web-shooter. “Just a few times. Maybe six. Dunno. Thanks though. It was getting smelly.”

“Yeah, welcome to the wonderful world of sweat and smelling bad,” said Tony as he returned back to his spot behind the desk. “You’re gonna love it. I’ll buy you a twelve-pack of deodorant next time I’m out.”

“I use deodorant, Mister Stark.”

“Extra strength. Clinical. Ten dollar entrance fee from now on if you don’t come in smelling like fresh daisies.”

Peter rolled his eyes and smiled. “Sure,” he mumbled, setting his head down onto his arms before shutting his eyes, “start paying me then.”

“Okay, now you've crossed a line.”

Peter laughed, and for a few moments, he felt calm and at ease. He let the machines and Tony’s occasional swears lull him into a light sleep. After that, Peter soon became conscious of his sub-conscience. He was dreaming.

And it was a good dream for a while.

It was sharp and clear. Tony was there doing what Tony did best. He worked on his suits and hummed along to the music blasting through the speakers, and Peter was there tinkering away at his own suit. It resembled a comfortable pattern that they had fallen into over the past few months. It was nice.

When dream-Peter looked at Tony, however, the older man wasn’t as at peace. His expression twisted as he read over a message on his computer screens. From a distance, Peter couldn’t read it, but he knew the message wasn’t good. There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere, and Tony was uncomfortable.

“What’s that?” dream-Peter asked.

Almost as if he had clicked a switch, Tony’s face broke out into a smile. “Nothing,” he answered. “Just junk. Happy’s gotten on the chain mail trend. Dancing cats and ‘you-will-die-in-ten-days’ kind of stuff.”

Peter nodded, accepting the straightforward answer. But somewhere, the truth floated in his mind, weaving in between prefrontal decisions and hippocampus memories. Something was wrong, but in his dreams, he wasn’t aware enough to take notice.

The workshop faded into the kitchen, and now, Tony was in the midst of preparing some pasta dish that Peter couldn’t identify. Meanwhile, he sat at the counter with a few sheets of illegible homework problems below. They didn’t share moments like this often––usually, Peter was too busy with school and evenings on patrol, and Tony spent more days out of town than in. It was special when he invited the kid over for a nice home-cooked dinner. It felt surreal. Not everyone had the opportunity to eat Tony Stark’s subpar cooking.

In the dream, none of that mattered.

“––well, when the guy tried to stab me,” Peter began on a tangent, “I was kinda expecting it, so I dodged and said something like ‘whoa buddy, that’s not nice. You gotta work on your aim.’ And then wham! He stabbed me. And then you showed up, punched the guy, and yelled at me for… ”

From his spot behind the stove, Tony had stopped stirring the pot of pasta to glance at his phone. He looked troubled. It was the same expression from the workshop.

Peter totally forgot what he had been talking about. “You okay, Mister Stark?”

He shook his head, still a bit mentally distanced from having read something odd. “Yeah. Fine. I keep getting these weird messages.”

“From Happy?”

Tony shook his head again. “No. I think someone’s just trying to scare me.”

“It doesn’t bother you that you’re getting them?” Peter asked, to which Tony simply shrugged. “Are they death threats? Are you receiving death threats?”

Tony chuckled. “No, no, God––I’ve received a shit ton of death threats in my life, but this––no. They’re just weird. I’m not bothered. Look who you’re talking to. I’m Iron Man. They don’t scare me.”

Again, Peter accepted the answer, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it just wasn’t right. He didn’t like that Tony found humor in something that would terrify Peter. He didn’t like that he was stuck in a dream where he could do nothing about it.

After that, when things became hazy and Peter wasn’t sure where he was next, the pieces of the puzzle slowly came into place. The news broke that Tony had gone missing. Televisions in windows and big, gaudy screens in Times Square dedicated their minutes to the billionaire’s disappearance. Peter couldn’t go home and he couldn’t go to school. He couldn’t walk down the street without seeing the reports plastering his mentor’s face everywhere. And worst of all, Peter saw this coming, but it was a dream. He had to let it all unfold. He was stuck.

He didn’t know how or why, but the next thing he knew, he was staring at a reel of security footage dated from hours before. Tony was there, locked in some dark room with blood dripping from his forehead while three other men surrounded him. All Peter could do was watch from the monitors in the workshop as they tortured and beat Tony senseless. And Peter couldn’t react. He couldn’t hear anything, but he knew that the men––the evil, diabolic men––were using Tony’s relationship with Peter to their advantage. He just knew.

Tony didn’t have a lot of weak spots, but his Achilles’ heel was his friends and family.

When Peter finally made it to Tony, the dream felt more real than it had before. The hallway was empty and eerily silent, and Peter could paint every detail with his eyes closed. He wasn’t sure how he got there. The room that Tony was in was cold. It was lifeless. Dried blood was splattered across the floor, and as hard as Peter searched, he couldn’t hear a heartbeat. No breaths, not even a blink of an eye.

For those few moments, he believed that they had taken Tony elsewhere. But then Peter turned a corner, and the wreckage of an Iron Man suit stared back at him.

Peter felt to his knees, anger seeping down to his fists while his chest filled with a heavy sadness. He couldn’t tell if he was crying. The image of Tony, beaten skull and blood-soaked skin, was enough to make Peter heave. The men had been merciless. Tony was dead. Murdered. Gone.

And while Peter’s stomach sank further and further, heart lurching with each breath, he crawled over and tossed himself around Tony’s waist. It seemed as though the limp body held him back.

The dream became hazy again, solid shapes fading into nothing while Peter’s terror only grew. He swore, as the colors turned to gray, that a voice cut through the waning REM and said to Peter, “I’m sorry for giving up on you.”

____

Someone was nudging Peter’s shoulder.

His body jolted awake, and he gathered himself quickly, eyes adjusting to the low light in the workshop. The sun had set a long time ago, but he hadn’t been awake to see it. His heart hurt in his chest, and the more conscious he became, the more he felt the erratic beating against his rib cage. To his right, Tony stood, gaze confused and lingering while he pressed his hand on Peter’s shoulder blade.

“You okay?” he asked, slowly retracting his hand. “You’ve been mumbling in your sleep for about an hour, kiddo. You’re as white as a sheet. Maybe you weren’t kidding when you said you have bad dreams, yeah?”

Peter stared straight ahead. He felt numb and in shock, not to mention slightly dehydrated as he evened out his breathing. He remembered everything. The entire dream. God, it felt so real. And he felt warm. Like a fever had struck him without warning. He blinked over at his mentor. “Tony?”

“Tony?” The man raised an eyebrow. “Since when was that a thing? What happened to ‘Mister Stark’?”

Peter blinked again. “S-sorry,” he whispered, shifting in his chair while he pushed back the vertigo that crept up.

Tony walked over toward his desk, but he didn’t hesitate to occasionally look back over at Peter in concern. The confusion never quite left. “Jesus, Pete. Did you physically go somewhere else for three hours? You’re lookin’ at me all weird. Relax your eyes. You’re freaking me out.”

“Oh, sorry.” Peter did his best to loosen whatever muscles were tense. But that was the problem––his entire body was tense. It felt like that one time he volunteered to receive acupuncture when a lady came into his health class freshman year. It didn’t hurt, but he was an idiot to think his fear of needles would be cured over a few pricks in his forehead and thumbs.

He didn’t want to tell Tony about his bad dream. Peter hardly wanted to call it a nightmare. He just couldn’t shake the images out of his head. Tony laying there, a corpse, with broken parts and ghostly apologies. It didn’t make sense––Tony was Iron Man. Iron Man could fight. He never lost. He never died.

But why did Peter sit back and let him die?

He had known it the entire dream: something was wrong. And he didn’t do anything. He saw his mentor beaten and bruised and bleeding until there was nothing left to give. Peter could almost feel his body still curled up against Tony’s side, desperate to hear a heartbeat muffled by the thick metal suit. Nothing. There was nothing. And it was because Peter had been too late.

His hand shook as he raised it to wipe a tear. He tried to keep the action subtle, but he couldn’t hold back the sniff and the small whimper that refused to be contained. The weight of the dream finally set in. Peter had broken his own heart.

“Whoa, kiddo,” Tony mumbled. He dropped what he had in his hands and made his way over, quickly plopping himself down in a stool so he could wrap an arm around Peter’s shoulders.

Peter let himself break. He fell against Tony, sobs wracking through him all wet and strained while a burning ache grew in his chest. “I-I let you die,” he cried out. “I let you die. I’m––I’m sorry, M-Mister Stark.”

“Pete,” whispered Tony, voice low and comforting. He kissed the top of Peter’s head. “What’re you talking about? I’m right here. I’m alive. Okay? It’s okay.”

Peter shook his head against Tony’s chest. “N-no,” he said. His tears were hot on his cheeks. “Dream. In my dream.” He could hardly breathe between words. “Y-you were gone. They––these people––they took you and––”

“But they didn’t, Peter, I’m right here.”

“I just let them kill you!” Peter shouted, pulling away from Tony just to collapse against the desk. He wrapped his arms around his head and breathed in deep.

The workshop was quiet for a moment. Distant technology whirred and buzzed, but the unsettling atmosphere was louder. Peter had never yelled like that, not in front of Tony. After a few seconds, Tony placed a hand back on Peter’s shoulder.

“I can’t erase your bad dreams, kiddo,” the man said. “I would if I could. Hell, I could figure out a way if you wanted me to. But for now, the dream is in the past. It was scary––it made you upset. And I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that. Dreams tend to find the worst things to dwell on. Believe me, I know. Good thing is, Pete, I’m still here. I’m right here. Not dead. See?”

Peter peered over at Tony from over his arm.

“You’re gonna forget about it in a few hours anyway,” said Tony. “Dreams are like my entire life pre-2005. They’re there but then poof––gone from memory like that. Tell you what, though, we’ll get some ice cream and Twizzlers and eat until Happy comes to find us drowning in food comas. How’s that sound?”

Peter cracked a smile. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay, good.” Tony grinned, standing up. “No dreams about death from here on out. All right? You got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

____

Tony was wrong.

Peter couldn’t say that to his face, of course, but it didn’t make it any less true. Tony was wrong. Peter remembered every vivid detail of the dream, all the way down from the clothes the man was wearing and up to the words he said. Even Peter’s worst nightmares never stuck like that. He couldn’t unsee any of it. Tony lying there. Tony, dead.

Tony not even giving a shit that people wanted to kill him.

The thing that upset Peter the most was just that. The dream wasn’t some fantasy where he rode dragons and summoned an army of spiders. The dream was something that, if he were honest, had the possibility of happening. He knew that Tony would ignore messages like that. Peter knew that Tony would scoff and shove them off because he was Iron Man. And Iron Man never lost.

Every time Peter tried to talk about his dream, the older man was always half-preoccupied with another obscure project. He cut in between with hums and “yeah”’s, absent-minded responses while Peter was haunted by the dream.

After a week, Peter realized that Tony’s lack of attention most likely meant a lack of interest. The kid kept his mouth shut from then on out.

But for some reason, that wasn’t what Tony wanted either.

“Incoming call from Tony Stark,” Karen said one evening.

Peter was out in the suit, but there wasn’t much activity for the night. For over an hour, he had been up on a roof and using his webbing as a jump rope up when Karen cut in.

“What?” Peter asked breathlessly. “Why’s he––?”

Tony’s face popped up in the heads-up display, a small smile decorating his features while a knot formed in Peter’s stomach. He still saw the Tony from his dream, even nearly a week later. Dreams never stayed around that long. They never stuck like that.

“Word to the wise, kiddo, don’t leave your homework sittin’ around if you don’t want me to correct it,” the man said, holding up a handful of papers. “What’s with all the stuff you left behind, huh? Since when did you journal?”

“I just––I dunno,” Peter said and shrugged. “I’ve got feelings and… yeah. It’s just easier to write it all down instead of––wait, Mister Stark, did you––you didn’t read my journal, did you?”

Tony appeared briefly offended. “What? No. That’s a serious invasion of privacy. I’d never do that. Besides, if you wrote anything about that dream you’ve been chatterin’ on about for the past week––”

“You were listening?” Peter sat down on the ledge of the roof and looked over at the street below.

“Pete, you didn’t give me the chance to not listen,” Tony said. “Granted, I usually don’t listen, so, you’ve got a point.”

“It just didn’t seem like you wanted t’hear about it,” Peter mumbled, shrugging once again, “that’s all. I just—I can’t stop thinking about it. The dream. It scared me.”

Tony frowned. His eyebrows furrowed and wrinkles deepened on his forehead, meanwhile, Peter was dreading the fact that, now, Tony was listening.

Peter sighed. “I just can’t stop seeing you a-and––”

“Pete,” Tony said. “I know. I’m sorry. I can’t get it out of your head. I wish I could.” He was quiet for a moment, and Peter could see the thoughts running through his head. “Why don’t you go home and tell May you’ll be spending the night up here? ‘Kay? I’ll get in a car. Me instead of Happy this time. I hear he’s been babbling on about his old boxing days again; you wouldn’t last a minute. Swing on home and get some stuff together.”

“Yeah, okay,” Peter mumbled, sniffing as he blinked away a few tears. “Sure. Thanks, Mister Stark.”

“Of course, kiddo,” Tony replied. “And, don’t worry about me, all right? I’m alive. I’m breathing––to many, many people’s dismay.”

Peter chuckled. “Okay.”

Tony smiled, too. “See you in an hour. Stark out.”

Once the phone call was over, Peter shook his head and tried to wipe the grin off his face. Tony was right. He was there. He was alive. All the dream had been was just a dream.

____

A month later.

____

“That’s––huh. Well, you don’t see that every day.”

Peter sat up and took out an earbud. “See what?” he asked. Music continued to play lowly into one ear.

Tony stood at his desk, rubbing his chin while he stared at his array of computer screens and holograms. Peter could only see a reversed image of a few things, but he had never been good at reading things backward. It wasn’t a trait he picked up in elementary school when the rest of his classmates did.

“Uh, nothing,” Tony muttered, waving his hands to make whatever it was disappear. “No big deal. Just observing. Doesn’t matter. What’re you working on?”

“Just some homew—”

“Can I help?” he asked fervently as he made his way over.

Peter took out the other earbud. “Sure. It’s on oscillations and gravitation. Physics stuff.”

Tony sat down and slid the paper in front of him. He looked over the homework, eyes rapidly reading over every word, equation, graph, etc., before he reached over for the pencil in Peter’s grip. “Easy. Just use the values as Jacobi elliptic integrals.”

Peter watched, eyebrows raised, as Tony scribbled messily on the sheet. “I’m not sure that’s––”

“Shh, working,” the man said and held up a finger. As he did so, however, the gesture trembled. He kept his jaw clenched while he wrote a variety of illegible functions.

So, Peter kept watching. He didn’t care about homework though. He watched Tony’s actions, thoroughly observing every nervous tick or coping habit. Every nail bite, deep breath, forehead rub, and so on.

“You okay, Mister Stark?” Peter asked after a moment.

Tony blinked, barely glancing over as if he hadn’t heard a word. “Hm. Yeah––what?”

Peter almost laughed, but something felt off. Tony was off. “Are you okay? You seem… I don’t know. Weird.”

“Yeah,” Tony said. He set down the pencil. “Oh, yeah. Totally. I’m great. You okay?”

“Yeah…” Peter cracked a small smile. “I’m good. What you were talking about earlier––you sure it was just nothin’? You look all pale. And sweaty.”

“Sweaty?” Tony laughed, but even that sounded nervous. “I’m fine, Pete. Don’t worry about me. Worry about how physics is a joke and how no high school student should ever have to endure his crap. Jesus Christ.” He looked back over the sheet, flipped it over, and rolled his eyes. “Your little brain must hurt having to look at that. How the hell do you do this and be Spider-Man? I couldn’t even run a company and––”

“Mister Stark.”

“Yeah?”

Peter didn’t want to forget about what was bothering his mentor, but there wasn’t a conversation at hand. Tony wasn’t going to crack; he was going to keep avoiding it until he grew frustrated at Peter. And then, there would be uncomfortable silence for an hour or two before Tony decided to apologize and finally assure Peter that he was, in fact, okay. But Peter knew better. He knew there was something, but he needed to face the facts. He wouldn’t get the truth.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “Thanks for––uh, doing my homework.”

Tony smiled and slapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Anytime. Don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Yeah, well, next time I’ll be sure to,” Peter said with a laugh. He picked up his pencil and looked over the homework as Tony walked away. Nothing was legible. Nothing was right. But, with Tony, something was clearly wrong.

Peter kept noticing the shift in behavior over the course of the next week. Little changes like occasional tics and habits––all summoned by a quick glance at a phone or a watch. Peter wondered if it had something to do with Pepper or Rhodey, or maybe the company’s stock had taken a tumble and Tony was nervous he’d go bankrupt. He was high strung at all hours, and it seemed to be triggered by something he read or received.

The nervous mannerisms made Peter nervous. His senses nagged at him, prickling at the back of his neck whenever Tony acted weird. It was getting worse and worse, and Peter couldn’t handle it anymore.

He had Happy drive him up to the compound after school without telling Tony. The weather was getting warmer and spring had started to show itself, but Peter couldn’t enjoy it if there was something wrong with someone he cared about. Tony was Tony. Tony was Iron Man. He hid his emotions fairly well, yet he wasn’t doing a great job around Peter.

The sun was setting outside as Peter walked through the compound. It was empty and cold, but most of the life was tucked away in Tony’s workshop. Yet, as Peter strolled, an unsettling feeling crept up, one that felt vaguely familiar.

“FRIDAY?” Peter asked into the air.

“Hello, Peter.”

“Hey––uh, is Tony––Mister Stark––is he here?”

“He isn’t,” replied the AI. “Would you like me to alert the Boss that you’ve arrived?”

“Sure,” Peter said, rubbing at his sleeve as he stepped down the corridor to the workshop. “Where is he?”

“I haven’t received any activity regarding his location.”

“Oh, okay.”

“The last check-in was four hours ago in Queens,” she said.

Peter furrowed his brows and he opened the door to the workshop. The room lit up around him. “He’s in Queens? Where?”

“JFK International Airport.”

“Fri, you could’ve just told me he was on a plane,” said Peter, stepping around a few strewn tools before sitting at his usual workbench. It felt weird to be there alone––it felt like he wasn’t supposed to be there at all.

“Boss doesn’t have any upcoming scheduled flights.”

“Huh, okay. Weird.” Peter slumped down against the table, arms surrounding his head while he rested his chin on them. He faced Tony’s desk, blinking up at Post-It Note doodles taped up to the backs of monitors. Most of them were done by Peter when he was bored, but DUM-E and U had contributed to a few.

“Hey, Fri?” Peter mumbled, bring his hand up to his cheek. “Does Mister Stark ever design things for me and not tell me about them?”

“It’s possible,” the AI said. “He has a few files that have not been opened in a while. Would you like to view them?”

Peter instantly sat up. His hands slammed against the table, and the sound echoed throughout the workshop. “I can do that? They’re not––he doesn’t have them locked up or encrypted, or anything?”

“Of all people to keep secrets from, Peter, Boss wouldn’t keep them from you.”

Peter smiled. He rapped his knuckles against the table before letting the stool slide out from under him. Excitement filled his chest as he rushed over to Tony’s desk, fingers quick to access the server and tap into whatever files the man had on Peter.

And for hours, he sat there scrolling through design after design, idea after idea until FRIDAY announced that Peter had eaten out all of the popcorn left in the compound. He couldn’t believe that Tony had done all of this for him––he couldn’t believe that he was even sitting there at Tony’s desk and eating up all of his food. It all felt surreal.

“Hey––uh, Fri?” Peter asked, sipping at some soda he found in the kitchen. “What’s this?”

Peter’s finger was pointed at an odd amalgamation of numbers and letters slotting through the screen.

“The system is rebooting,” she said.

“Oh.” He nodded and sat back against the chair. “Why?”

“I’m not sure,” the AI replied. “It’s possible its last reboot triggered an automatic update.”

He leaned forward, watching the numbers slowly fade away until the monitor turned back. And then it came back to life. On the middle screen, a small message sat lonely in the center. Peter squinted so he could read it.

Subject Acquired. Mission Accomplished. Good luck.

“F-FRIDAY?” stuttered Peter. The message disappeared. The monitor returned back to the way it had been before. “What was that?” Peter’s voice cracked as he spoke.

“I don’t know, Peter,” she said, and even she sounded scared. “I can’t track its origin.”

“Where’s Tony?” he asked. “Fri, where is he?”

“His last location is still JFK International Airport.”

Peter stood, hands shaking as flashes of his old dream filled his head. His skin pricked, and optimistically, he believed he knew exactly where to go. But he was just hopeful. Hopeful that Tony hadn’t moved since he was last tracked. Hopeful to find him in one piece. Hopeful to find him alive.

Peter clicked his web-shooters into place and sighed. “Well, then, got any suits for me ‘round here, Fri?”

____

Tony was going to kill him. If he wasn’t already dead, he was going to kill Peter.

Peter wasn’t sure how to get to JFK any other way than using one of the Iron Man suits. He needed something quick, something that would get him there in a matter of minutes. As air traffic control cut into the suit’s communications, Peter searched for anything that would prove out of the ordinary. He landed on a bit of unused tarmac and winced as planes roared by in the distance.

“Search the hangars, Fri, search anywhere,” Peter gasped out, tired from pushing down the panic threatening to rise in his chest. Plus, he had on his suit underneath Tony’s; it was getting hot in there. “How am I––how am I supposed to find him with an airport full of people?”

“There is a supposedly unoccupied hangar across from terminal seven,” the AI said. “You are within a distance for me to pick up on an odd heat signature emitting from the building. I would say that is your best bet.”

Peter nodded, breathing hard while the repulsors ignited beneath his hands and feet. He soared into the air as FRIDAY directed him to the hangar, and finally, he could see what she was talking about. Through the suit’s thermal imaging, he could see that the building was empty except for an odd––almost blob-like––anomaly in a corner. Peter dove down and landed onto the adjacent road as quietly as possible.

“Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” he whispered to himself. “Dammit, Tony, I have school tomorrow. Please don’t be dead.”

Peter tried to hide it from FRIDAY, but truly, he was terrified. His stupid dream was coming true. And he hadn’t recognized the signs. Tony’s behavior, the messages, and now, he was missing. This wasn’t fair. He couldn’t be dead.

“Is he in a suit, Fri?” Peter asked lowly.

“If he is, all functions have been powered down or removed,” she said. “I’m not receiving anything.”

Peter nearly broke, expression crumbling for a moment as he snuck in through a door. “Please don’t be fucking dead,” he muttered and stepped into the hangar.

It was large, empty, and cold. It reminded him of the compound.

Peter stepped out of the Iron Man suit. As comforting as it was to have FRIDAY with him, the suit’s technology was hindering his ability to hear for a heartbeat. He stood, unmoving and quiet as he listened for a sound. Any sound. A single breath would suffice.

And somewhere, faint as could be, was a slow heartbeat.

“Mister Stark?” Peter found himself shouting into the dark, and he didn’t care if he was yelling it to no one or someone unfamiliar. He didn’t care if the entire airport knew he was there.

He heard a small gasp along with winces of pain. Peter was quick on his feet, dodging boxes and other obstacles. The hangar had been abandoned and used for storage––a great place to hide a famous superhero that no one would know how to find.

“I’m––I’m coming! Shit.” Peter stubbed his toe.

The heartbeat was drowned out by his pants and the rush of wind as he ran. God, why were hangars so big?

Oh, right. Airplanes. Duh.

Peter wanted to believe he was dreaming, but instead, he kept running and following his instincts.

“Mister Stark?” he called out again as he slowed. He glanced around, looking beyond the boxes and the mounds of crap the airport had stored in there. There was even a giant dumpster full of odd things like busted microwaves and broken chairs.

“Yeah, Pete, I’m here,” the man breathed out from behind.

Peter turned and rushed over to where Tony was propped against a stack of wooden pallets. His helmet had been removed, and portions of the suit had been damaged. There were large gashes on any inch of exposed skin, including a rigid cut along the man’s cheek. But he was alive. He was bleeding and bruised, but he was alive.

“Nanotech’s gonna need a bit more work,” he said, grunting while he lifted himself higher into a sitting position. “Jesus. Fuck.”

Peter crouched beside Tony, eyes examining over every wound and bloodstain on his mentor’s skin. He set a hand on his back and another on his arm, and Tony looked up at him with a smile.

“It was an ambush,” Tony mumbled through a busted lip. “Fucking embarrassing.”

Peter shook his head.

“Some guys who’d gotten their hands on old Chitauri stuff from 2012.” Tony shifted his shoulder and groaned. “Shit. That stings. They––they reminded me of the dude you fought. The one with the wings. That Vulture guy.”

Peter bit his lip to keep from tearing up. Tony was alive. The dream hadn’t come true after all.

“They got away,” Tony whispered, turning his head so Peter couldn’t see the emotion in his features. “I-I let them get away.”

“We’ll get them,” Peter said, “one day. We’ll get them. Together. Okay? You’re just covered in blood. So, we should probably get you help or somethin’.”

Tony nodded, chuckling. “Yeah. Help. I’d like that. Know how to cauterize?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Uh, Karen?” he said to his AI, voice cracking. “Let’s get some medics down here. Now.”

Tony continued to laugh. “Relax. I did some myself.” After a moment, his laughter settled, and he set a hand over Peter’s. “You did good, kid. Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Why’re you sorry, Mister Stark? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Nah, I’ve got lots to be sorry for,” said Tony. “You’re just being modest. Sorry for letting this happen. Sorry for not letting you in on what was happening. They warned me, and I didn’t listen.”

“You’re good at that,” Peter muttered and smiled. “The not-listening thing.”

“I told you, I totally listen to everything you say.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Start having good dreams from now on,” said Tony. “Dreams where I retire and you go to college, and we all live happily ever after. That’s your job. Stop dreaming about me dying. Now I know this shit can come true.”

Peter laughed. “I’ll try.”

“Good kid.” Tony patted Peter’s cheek. “How’d you know to come here? How’d you even get here?”

“FRIDAY had a location, so I just followed instincts and stuff after that,” Peter answered. “Plus, I totally didn’t take one of your suits. Not at all.”

“You totally didn’t what?”

“Uh. Nothing. I told you. You totally won’t find that I took one of your suits.”

“You’re dead, Parker.”

[realm-sweet-realm]

Friendship Headcanons

Henry: -His friendship with Joey is gonna need its own post. I have lots of details to share. -Was friends with Sammy and Wally before he even started the studio. (How he knew to hire Sammy) The three of them would hang out together. Even though Sammy normally can’t stand Wally, it’s like Henry acted as a buffer between them. -Henry and Sammy met in college. -Henry was Wally’s tutor before he dropped out of high school. He thought he should advise Joey against hiring him, but ultimately was too soft-hearted.

Joey: -can get along with anyone so long as they don’t know him too well. -tends to push people who he feels he’s getting too close to away because he’s terrified of rejection and abandonment. (This predates Henry, but Henry leaving might have made it worse.) -has a metric fuckton of friends outside the studio, but no one he’s even remotely close to. -had a passive-aggressive friendship with Allison while the studio was open. It became a little more genuine over the years after the studio shut down. -He, Sammy, and Henry hung out together in college. After the studio opened, Sammy got fed up with Joey very quickly, however. (They weren’t as close as Joey and Henry to begin with, either) -Was Satan buddies with Sammy in the years up to the closing of the studio. It was an odd relationship. At first, Sammy liked Joey as a friend while hating him as a boss. Joey tried to make amends with Sammy by giving him a different office without an ink pump switch in it. They got pretty close (Joey thinking of Sammy almost as a replacement Henry) until Sammy started losing his mind.

Sammy -He and Wally tried spending time together twice after Henry left before admitting that without Henry, they honestly can’t stand each other. Joey’s not the only one who missed having Henry around. -He and Jack are good friends. Unless he’s in a really irritable mood, Sammy is uncharacteristically soft to Jack. Since Jack can’t stand up for himself very well, Sammy sometimes has to do it for him.

Jack -basically friends with everyone who knows him personally, including Sammy, Allison, Wally and Susie. Is a good listener (and your secrets are safe with him) and he tends to be the one people come to for advice. -he’s creeped out by Norman, but is still friendlier and less avoidant of him than most.

Norman -Almost everyone in the studio thinks he’s creepy. -He and Allison aren’t really friends, but they get along. -He and Grant are best friends. They play poker together at Norman’s with his strange little friend group. Norman has also dragged Grant out on a few hikes. -They find a strange sort of solidarity in the fact that they’re both kind of a mess, even though neither of them cares to talk about it to each other. Grant sees Norman as an immense source of comfort in his life. Norman is also comforted by Grant. He’s probably the most normal person he’s ever attracted into his life. -Sometimes they just hang out together and read. Both of them have, on at least one occasion, proposed doing that to the other after they’d had a rough day.

Wally -easily makes friends with anyone who doesn’t directly suffer from what a screwup he is. -Friends with Susie. They gossip a ton. -Norman gives him the heebie-jeebies, moreso than the average worker. -Actually gets along quite well with Joey. -Allison treats him with disrespect. That’s okay, one more thing to blab about with Susie! -BFFs with Shawn. Wally is the innocent friend that Shawn protects, so mess with him at your own peril! Shawn knows better than to take Wally out drinking at the rough bars that he and Lacie hang out in. Despite this wisdom, they do all kinds of stupid and dangerous things together. Also Shawn loves Wally’s dogs and is his go-to dogsitter.

Susie -She and Allison became friends in between Susie’s transformation and the closing of the studio. Tried to get Wally to quit badmouthing her after that. Failed.

Shawn -drinking buddies with Lacie. Participated in a ton of bar fights with her. Also enjoy complaining about Joey together. -Lacie is actually a surprisingly good shoulder to cry on. This is good, as Shawn feels things very intensely when he’s drunk. (Although it much more often goes in the direction of laughter or anger.) -When Shawn screws up, Lacie covers for him. She calls him a dumbass, but she covers for him. She honestly reminds Shawn a bit of his mother. Secretly, Lacie finds Shawn hilarious.

Grant -Lacie and Shawn were friends with Grant for about a year and a half, towards the end of the studio’s lifespan. He actually got to participate in a few bar fights with them. Grant has a wicked left hook. (Hoo boy was he surprised the first time he knocked a guy out with one punch!) -Pushed Lacie and Shawn away a few months before his murder. He was in a particularly bad place at that point and just didn’t think he could keep up with them. Plus, he was afraid they’d reject him, or worse, worry about him, if they learned more about him.

Lacie -world’s greatest power duo with Bertrum. They’ve known each other for years. -haven't complimented each other in years because they both know that they see each other as the most flawed, foolish, stubborn beings on the planet, and as unmatched, powerful Gods. (Also Lacie knows that Bertrum reeally doesn't need the ego boost) -they bicker like a married couple. -Bertie’s a bit of a gossip and they roast the absolute hell out of people together, working off of each other to create absolutely fantastic, five-star roasts. -Bertrum knows that Lacie’s a lesbian. He’s old fashioned and doesn’t get it at all, but he’ll tolerate it. Because it’s Lacie. -He kind of reminds Bertrum of himself when he was younger. (Not that he was ever that coarse!)

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 9

Hey, no narrator explaining the Alchemy basics this time, just straight into the intro song? Last time, the Elrics broke into the Fifth Lab, encountered two Soul Armors, and Pudgy the Jerk made Al wonder about his free will. Here’s hoping that we fix these worries this episode.

Episode 09 - “Created Feelings” Annoyed Ed is Annoyed, scowling in his hospital bed. Ross and Brosh try to stay positive, but have to admit to Ed that the Lab’s kinda gone the same way as the library. And Ed can’t even get properly mad about that, he’s so beat up. So close to finding out the truth… Wait, what are you two apologizing for? If anything Ed’s the one who should be apologizing for running- OH! Ed done just got slapped by Ross, who’s calling him a selfish child, who doesn’t have to do everything by himself. Thanks for knocking some sense into the boy, Ross! Ross and Brosh maintain their professional demeanor (did they rehearse this earlier, their performance is spot on), right up until Ed admits he had it coming and they collapse in relief. Oh hey, explanation that SA’s are equivalent to major, like you guys said. Ed lets them know they don’t have to act so professional around him. Um, but maybe a bit more professional than that? Where’s Al in all this? He got his lecture earlier (and Brosh was the attempted slapper). And speaking of lectures… Uh oh. Ed’s gotta call Winry, tell her that his arm’s busted already. Immediately she remembers that loose screw. Whoops! Still ticked off that Ed got in another fight, but she recovers quickly and makes plans to head for Central. [Brosh]: “Aw, was that your girlfriend?” [Ed]: “My girlfriend? No way!” Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, buddy. Brosh wheels Ed back to the room since Ed’s busted up his stomach injury again, idly trying to talk girls with Annoyed Ed. Oh hey, there’s Al! Whatcha doing in the dark, buddy? Ugh, Al’s still brooding over what Pudgy said. And in a moment of cosmic irony, some kid’s robot toy walks right into him. Seeing an example of what we know he used to be, and what Pudgy said that he is… Damn it. I don’t wanna consider it. But do we know for sure that Pudgy’s wrong? I mean, we saw kid-Alphonse up until he was consumed in the Human Transmutation. And we’ve seen other examples of Soul Armor with Pompous and Pudgy. But do we know for sure that there was continuation of consciousness? You have to admit, it’s possible that Soul Armors create an impression of a person, formulate an identity based on the thoughts of the binder. Al’s thinking of his little brother when he does the binding, and the resulting suit of armor acts like his brother used to. The executioners think about the murderers that they are hanging, and that carries over to the new guards. We haven’t even had a non-Armor perspective of Al, even. I just can’t discount the possibility. At the train station, Winry’s complaining about the seats, wondering how Ed and Al can take so many trips. Looking around the West Exit, she should see someone she recogni- oh hey Armstrong! That was easy enough. But she’s still looking around? Uh oh. She doesn’t understand why the Elric Brothers aren’t there as well. Now Winry’s freaking out at the hospital, staring at the heavily-bandaged Ed even as he snarks that she’ll probably charge him an express service fee. To which she says she won’t charge anything, she didn’t do a good enough job last time? Woof. While she mopes, the others look pointedly at Ed, who starts frantically insisting it’s not her fault. Winry realizes that Ed never noticed the missing screw, really thinks that it’s all his fault. So she’s off the hook! What a relief, now she can treat him like normal! Cue her setting out express fee, chiding him for not drinking his milk, Ed whining that he doesn’t wanna, The Mighty Armstrong being VERY DISPLEASED with Ed’s attitude - yay, we’re back to happy times! But Al was looking through the door, just closed it and walked away. Boo, give me back my happy times! As Winry works on the arm, Ed talks about how Al’s been acting odd lately (Winry takes the opportunity to sneak the missing screw into the repairs). Al’s back in the Shadowed Hallway, looking into a mirror, shattering a mirror with barely any effort.

Repairs are done, Ed’s thanking Winry for the work- Sudden Civilian-dress!Hughes! [Hughes]: “Yo, Ed, my boy! Is it true that you brought a pretty blonde girl into your room to service you?” [Ed]: “*faceplant* She’s my automail mechanic that’s all! Nothing more!” [Hughes]: “Oh… I see. You’ve seduced your mechanic, have you?” Oh jeez. Hope you’re good at dodging, Hughes. I’m pretty sure Winry has a wrench with your name on it. Or rather he’ll just enthusiastically shake her hand. And Ed can’t just tell him to go do his work, he pushed it all off to poor Sheska. But good news, Ed and Al shouldn’t have to be under guard too much longer!... Winry is not to pleased to hear about this “bodyguard” business. Did you seriously not explain how your arm got obliterated before? Nope, he didn’t tell her then, and his stubborn attitude means all he’ll say now is that it “doesn’t concern her”. Jeez, Ed. You don’t make it easy to be your friend. Winry packs up and says that she’ll see him tomorrow, she’s got to find someplace to stay for the night. Oh hey, a new houseguest for Hughes! Brace yourself for photo-albums, Winry. Actually, forget photo albums! How about a whole birthday party for Elicia! (Dang, should have seen this episode yesterday). Congrats on three years! Oh my Leto, the whole “I’m two….. No, I’m three!” is stupidly adorable. NO WAIT even the Narrator just chuckled when doing the halfway “Fullmetal Alchemist” cards! Hurk!

Later that night, Winry’s talking about how she’s known the Elric Brothers for a long time, they’re like her brothers (well, maybe Al. NO I WILL NOT LET THIS SHIP GO). But they don’t talk to her, even when it’s clear things are bothering them. Hughes talks about how guys try to talk through actions rather than words, try not to burden others with their pain. But when a time comes that they do ask for help, Hughes knows that Winry will be there for them. As they finish talking, we get a sweet scene of some little boys asking to play with Elicia… and then arguing about who she wants to play with. Aw, quite the heartbreaker alre- Hughes put the gun down! Quieter actions Hughes, quieter actions! Next morning, Winry’s saying her goodbyes even as the family extend their hospitality. Elicia even huuuuuuurk nope nope too cute, clutching Winry’s sleeve. Hughes remarks that they could be sisters- [Elicia]: “Sissy! Be safe, ok? And come back and visit me real soon!”

At the hospital, Ed is shocked... to encounter milk with his food again. Al tries getting him to drink it, saying that he has “a living body that needs nourishment” (still thinking about Pudgy). Ed just offhandedly remarks that he won’t do it if he doesn’t want to, that he has grown some even if others, like Hughes and Winry who are arriving, keep calling him pipsqueak. [Ed]: “I wish I was like you, Al. You’ve got such a big body now.” [Al]: ”It’s not like I asked for this body, brother!” Oh jeez. It’s coming to a head. Ed starts apologizing, saying that he’ll get Al back in his real body soon. But Al’s not having any of it, yelling that Ed always says that, that he can’t believe anything when he’s stuck in this body, that memories are just scraps of information that can be made up as easily as anything else. Al thinks he knows now what Ed was afraid to tell him. That Al’s soul and memories are artificial constructions that Ed created. Ed slams his hands on the table. Then asks if Al’s finished talking. Then quietly gets up and walks out of the room. Al… Ed… WINRY! Hoo boy, Winry is pissed, smacking Al around with her wrench. I mean, Al did just accuse her, Granny, and Ed of lying to him. Oh. But she’s not upset about that. She’s upset because she knows what Ed was going to say: That he wanted to ask Al if he blames him for what happened to his body. Flashback to injured Ed at the Rockbell’s crying that Al lost his body, it’s all his fault. Al can’t eat, sleep, feel… how could he forgive the one who was supposed to protect him? Granny insists that Al doesn’t feel that way, that if Ed just asks he’ll know the truth. But Ed’s too afraid. Winry keeps striking Al, crying that even as Ed harbored those doubts, Al came and accused him of creating a fake brother just to control. And Winry ask who could do something like that, risk their life to create a fake brother. … That depends, Winry. To create a puppet? No one. To try and bring back what was lost, even if was ‘fake’? … moving on. For now, Winry orders Al to go after his brother. Up on the roof, Ed’s leaning on the railing, Al standing in the doorway. He goes to speak, but Ed cuts him off. [Ed]: “You know somethin', Al… We haven’t had a good fight in a while. I’m starting to get flabby.” The slippers come off. Ed charges, kicking and punching even as Al tells him to stop, that his wounds aren’t healed enough for a spar. Then, sheet to the face! While Al’s blinded, Ed knocks him down, declaring that he’s won. Hey, this would be the first match he’s ever beaten Al in, right? Even though Al argues that it wasn’t a fair fight. Heh. Ed reminisces on how they’ve fought since they were little, over some very stupid things. Like who got the top and bottom bunks? Um excuse you, who gets the top bunk is not stupid thank you very much. And don’t get me started on candy or toys. I’ve had to defend my stuff against a twin and a little brother, that is srus bizness!

[Al]: “We even fought over which one of us would marry Winry someday.” [Ed, panicked]: “What?! I don’t remember that one!” [Al]: “I won the fight… but she shot me down.” [Ed, nonchalant]: “Oh… did she?” Ed challenges Al to discount all those memories as lies, or his determination to regain his body. They’re in this together, remember? They’ll make themselves stronger, faster and better until they get their bodies back. Even if it means they have to drink the dreaded milk. *shudder* As the brothers fist-bump, Hughes and Winry look on from the doorway. (Please, please tell me she heard about their previous fights). Winry remarks that one doesn’t have to always hear something out loud, but it is helpful sometimes. Now, to put Ed back to bed and get some proper rest! [Strong Winds]? Heat-wave desert with a white flag? Oh hey, it’s Scar! [Scar]: “My brother…” Wait. What? Scar has a brother? Oh good grief. First we get the Slicer brothers, now we learn that Scar has/had a brother too?! I swear, and I thought RWBY was bad with sisters. Well anyways, not just his brother, Scar mentions his Master too, saying they’re all gone. Aftermath of the genocide? Sudden intruder! Hey, it’s Smiley/Kimblee, that guy who’s in jail now. He identifies himself as a State Alchemist send to exterminate the sector. He Transmutes from circles drawn on his hands- Scar wakes up, bandaged and under a blanket. A small red-eyed boy cheerfully notes he’s awake, and an older white-haired man tells Scar that he’s in a slum outside East City. Guessing they’re all Ishvalan? Little Kid says that Scar shouldn’t move, they found him floating in the sewers badly injured. Remembering his fight with the Goths, Scar asks if he still has his right arm and oh my gosh are you serious? We’ve already got the brother parallels, you really gonna make him lose an arm to be a more blatant counterpart to Ed? Oh, nevermind, he’s still got it. Lots of tattoos… gift from his family? Post-credits! [Narrator]: “A good friend became a comrade in arms, and over time his presence was taken for granted.” ...wait, what? “Although the future they once dreamed of became bleaker than they had ever imagined, this good friend was always there by his side, where he belonged.” Show. Show, no. NO. Stop implying what I think you’re implying! “Next time, on Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood-” OH SWEET LETO NO NO NO THAT WAS LUST’S SILHOUETTE NO NO NO Episode 10 - “Separate Destinations” “A friend whose presence comes as naturally as breathing can never be replaced.” NNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[platonicone]

Devotion - Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Chapter 19 - Faith

Without faith, what do you believe in? I wonder…

Their last car ride together was peaceful and enjoyable. They made small talks and recollected some of their fond memories in this car. Before they realized they were already by the Wiz Chocobo outpost.

“This is it,” he announced, turning off the ignition.

“For better or worse, this is it,” she affirmed, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Let’s go meet Mr. Wiz Chocobo,” he stated, getting out of the car.

“Why don’t you go ahead? There is something I need to do,” she requested, looking slightly distracted.

Leon wondered what it was but decided not to ask. ‘She needs to have her space too,’ his mind rationalized.

“Okay, fine. Join me at that table when you are done. We will grab something to eat before we venture out for Ramuh,” he proposed. She nodded in response.

They had consolidated all their stuff in two bags, which Leon carried with him as he headed for the Chocobo ranch.

Leon handed over the car keys to Wiz and rented two Chocobos.

After taking care of all his chores, he sat at the dining table to look at the menu. “Hmm, this Green Smoothie looks nice. Lightning Resistance +90%, this is perfect for the upcoming battle.”

He waited for Luna for 10 minutes or so, but she did not come. Fearing for her safety, he decided to go look for her.

Just a little distance further from the car, he saw Luna sitting on the ground with some sort of book in her hand. He noticed that dogs were back by her side.

‘Seriously? Reading a book? Now?’ he couldn’t help but give a facepalm.

As he approached her, Umbra saw him and pounced on him. “Hey there, I’ve missed you too buddy,” he said, playing with Umbra.

Luna suddenly looked up when she heard his voice. She quickly wiped off her tears with the back of her hand, hoping he won’t see it. Unfortunately for her, Leon saw it. He sat in front of her. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” she replied with a forced smile. However, Leon saw right through her fake smile.

“So why were you crying?” he cut to the chase.

“No, I wasn’t,” she denied it.

Leon just rolled his eyes, and she knew that he was on to her. Leon saw the book in her hand and it was unlike anything he had seen before, so his curiosity got the best of him. “What is this book?”

Luna closed the book quickly and brought it close to her chest defensively. “It’s mine.”

Leon was taken aback by her reaction.

“I am sorry,” she apologized, realizing her mistake.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell if you don’t want,” he suggested.

“It’s fine. This is the diary I share with Prince Noctis,” she spoke softly, slowly extending her hands towards Leon offering him the diary.

‘Hell no. I don’t want to read a diary between the girl I love and her lover.’ A voice yelled in his mind.

Leon gently pushed back to the diary. “No, it is your private diary. I don’t want to see it.”

Luna nodded and appreciated his sincerity. “I usually send him some pictures and flowers and he sends me stickers. It is silly, I know.”

“Everything we do looks silly to someone else,” he commented while standing up, and she followed the suit. She tucked the notebook around Umbra’s collar and instructed him, “Wait for him here. When he comes here, give it to him.” Umbra seemed to understand what she said and ran away in the woods. Pryna too followed Umbra and disappeared behind him.

“I had sent Prince Noctis a message when I left Tenebrae. He had replied saying he couldn’t wait to see me,” she revealed, as they made their way to their table. Leon looked at her from the corner of her eye and saw how happy she was talking about it.

“Since we are at the cusp of awakening Ramuh, I thought I should leave him another message here,” she added.

‘Ask her what she wrote,’ urged his mind. ‘No, that is a stupid idea, DO NOT ask her,’ warned his heart.

‘Dude, you gotta know everything about your competitor. What’s wrong in that?’ Argued his mind. ‘Stop it. I don’t want to know. The more I know the more it hurts,’ countered his heart.

Luna noticed that Leon was distracted and was back to his emotionless face. Just to keep the conversation alive, she added, “I wrote to him that my prayers are with him.”

‘She didn’t write that she loves him! That’s a win for us. Woo-hoo. Party time!’ Screamed his mind. ‘Shut up.’

“I left a little leaf symbol too,” she mentioned, hoping for some sort of response from Leon.

“Why?”

“It is like a nature stamp. It’s our code to let him know that I am okay,” she conveyed, taking her seat at the dining table.

“Still doesn't explain why you were crying?” he stated, matter-of-factly with no emotions in his voice, as he took the opposite seat to her.

“It’s just that,” she paused slightly before continuing. “Some old memories resurfaced, that’s all,” she whispered, hoping that would be the end of this topic.

Luckily for her, the waiter came just as Leon had opened his mouth to say something. “What can I get ya?” asked the waiter.

“Gysahl Chips and two Green Smoothie please,” Leon ordered.

“Good choice, Sir. I’ll be right back with your order,” said the waiter courteously and left.

Luna gave him a quizzical look for not even asking her what she wanted. Leon understood that look and responded, “I had already checked the menu. Those are only two things we can eat here.”

They finished their meal in awkward silence. They seem to have a pattern of swinging between intense closeness and extreme avoidance.

“How do we get to Ramuh from here?” Leon asked, getting up from their table.

“To awaken the Stormsender, we must locate and gather three runestones scattered across Duscae. The first runestone is up north from here across the forest in a canyon.”

“All right, let’s do this,” Leon said, as he pulled out Chocobo whistle from his pocket. Two Chocobos came running to where they were. One Chocobo was white and another was of sky-blue color.

“Oh. My. God. They are so cute,” Luna spoke with palpable excitement. Leon couldn’t help but smile seeing her child-like enthusiasm.

“Which one is mine?” she asked eagerly.

“Whichever one you like,” he replied with a shrug.

“I want the white one. No, wait, I want sky-blue one. Oh, this is so exciting. I get to ride a Chocobo,” she gabbed, tightly grabbing Leon’s hand.

“Okay, I’ll take the white one then,” he affirmed. Luna nodded in approval. “Shall we go now?”

“Wait! We haven’t named them yet,” she said enthusiastically.

“Luna, they are rental Chocobos. Why would we name them?” he argued.

“Why wouldn’t we?” she countered as if it was the most obvious thing to do.

“They are rental Chocobos and they probably already have names. We can just ask Wiz,” he proposed.

“Leon, they are not just some rental property. They are like our pets. We share a bond with them,” she pleaded her case.

“But--” he tried to say something, but she cut him off. “No,” she declared without giving any further explanation or rationale. “We are naming them and that’s final.”

“Fine. Go ahead,” he surrendered.

“No, I am going to name my Chocobo and you name yours,” she proposed, petting her Chocobo. “Let me think, what should I call her?”

After a few moments her face and her eyes lit up, “I got it. I am going to call her Sant' Angelo di Roma.”

“That’s a long name,” he noted.

“What are you going to name yours?” she asked eagerly.

“I am going to call him Boko.”

It was her turn to facepalm now. “That’s it? Just Boko?”

“Yeah, back in my world, I had a Chocobo named Boko,” he revealed.

“You never said that you owned a Chocobo in your world. All you said that they were rare. There is a lot you need to tell me about your world, mister,” she said in a mockingly threatening way, wagging her finger.

“Yes, I will tell you all about it on our way to Ramuh. Now, can we go?” he asked.

“Mhm,” she nods.

“Good, I’ll go grab our bags.”

“I’ll feed the Chocobos meanwhile.”

Once everything was in place, they were ready to being their journey.

“Here we go,” he said, mounting on Boko. “Do you need some help?” he asked, looking back at her.

“No, I got this,” she said while mounting on her Sant' Angelo di Roma.

“Let’s ride,” he declared, adjusting the bridle of his Chocobo. “North from here, through the forest and into the canyon, correct?”

“100%” she affirmed. “Keep up with me rookie,” she taunted as she rode ahead of him.

“Trash talking from Luna. Did not see that one coming,” he admitted, and followed her.

He quickly caught up with her as they entered the forest.

“You are good at this. Where did you learn how to ride Chocobos?” he asked.

“Ravus and I used to ride Chocobos every day in Tenebrae when we were little,” she revealed, recollecting fond memories.

“You talk a lot about Tenebrae. How come you have never taken me there?” he asked.

“Because it is so far away from here. You can only get there by train or an airship. I would love to take you there,” she said, looking at him with a smile.

“I would love to see the place where you grew up. Meet all the people there and find out all embracing stories about you,” he said with a straight face.

“Hey, not cool,” she gave him the look. He just laughed in response. “Now tell me about Chocobos in your world.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Leon was still giving her history lesson when they had passed through the forest. As they rode along, they noticed the Digythe Haven campground on the other side of the road. After crossing the road, they continued through the woods.

They continued making small talks as they rode towards their destination. Leon couldn’t help but wonder how Luna can find so many things to talk about. He was certain that he had spoken more in the past few days with Luna than he had spoken in last one entire year.

As the woods cleared, they could see the canyon now.

“Where do we go now?” he asked, looking around.

“Gentiana said that there should be a large boulder with a path next to it,” she stated.

After exploring the area for a few minutes, Leon found the said landmark. They continued down the path through the small canyon until they spotted a large tree-like object being electrified.

“What is that?” he asked, pointing at the tree which seemed to burst with electricity.

“That’s our first runestone,” she replied with a smile.

They both go off from their Chocobos and carefully approached the lightning tree. “Do you think it is safe to touch it?” he asked, eyeing it carefully runestone.

“For Oracle, it should be,” Luna said confidently.

“But what if it’s not safe?” he asked concerned.

She grabbed Leon’s hand reassuringly, “Leon, I cannot let the fear of ‘what if’ hold me back. The only thing I am truly afraid of is doing nothing and losing everything.”

“The only thing I am afraid of is losing you. Let me try first,” he insisted.

“No, this is my calling and I must do it,” she replied calmly.

“Fine. I’ll be right next to you.” He was still reluctant to let go of her hand.

“You always are,” she replied with a reassuring smile and then tugged him along, still holding his hand.

With the trident in one hand, she offered a silent prayer to Ramuh and dared to touch the runestone. The electricity started flying all around her, but it faded just before it would touch her. The runestone seems to concentrate all the energy into itself as lightning danced around it and eventually exploded in a brilliant flash. The release of energy caused a thundering roar that could be heard for miles.

“Luna!” screamed Leon.

“I am okay. Just blinded by this lightning,” she reported, still covering her eyes.

“Thank God you are okay. I was worried for a second,” he stated, placing his hand around her shoulders.

“You worry too much, Leon. No wonder that frown never leaves your face,” she said with a smile.

‘Silly girl, you are all I have in this world,’ his heart confessed. ‘Eww, that sounds so cheesy,’ retorted his mind.

“Whatever,” he said, folding his hand and looking away, which always made her laugh.

They both made their way back to their Chocobos to continue their journey. “Where do we go now?” he inquired.

“The second runestone should be north of Alstor Slough and the nearby Coernix Station,” she recollected instructions from Gentiana.

They ventured out of the canyon and followed the dirt road. They could see the lights from Coernix Station from a distance.

“What was that thundering sound at the runestone?” Leon asked riding his Chocobo.

“It must be a sign from Ramuh. He is God of thunder and rain after all,” she noted, riding next to him.

“Speaking of that, look there,” he pointed at the sky.

“Cumulonimbus clouds,” she remarked, looking at the sky.

“Just a few minutes ago, there was not a cloud in the sky, but now there are cumulonimbus clouds everywhere,” he observed.

“Yes, this type of cloud is thunderstorm clouds. This must be Ramuh’s doing. Interacting with runestone must have caused this reaction.”

“The Astrals in your world are a lot more powerful than mine,” he admitted, still trying to comprehend how one Astral can change the entire weather with its power.

“How so?” she asked with curiosity.

“Maybe we should discuss this at some other time. Looking at the clouds, it's only a matter of time before thunder starts. Also, the wind has picked up too.”

“Yes, let's keep moving,” she affirmed.

Once closer to Coernix Station they crossed the road and continued to ride along the northern wall until they came across a chain-link fence.

“Where do we go now?” he asked.

“I think we need to go further west from here,” she suggested, navigating her Chocobo in that direction.

Eventually they came across a small opening in another canyon.

They dismounted and made their way inside the opening on foot. Based on their previous experience, they were at ease approaching the tree. Luna touched the second runestone and electricity started emanating from it. Sparks of electricity engulfed Luna, but it did not touch her. It looked as if there was some invisible barrier that kept it from touching her. The intensity of the sparks picked up and reached its crescendo before exploding in a blinding light. The resulting thunder echoed all around.

Once everything was settled, he asked, “You okay?”

She nodded and said, “One finally runestone before the Fulgurian reveals himself. Deep within the heart of rock lies the runestone, the portal to power.”

“Location?”

“The third runestone is located in a dungeon called Fociaugh Hollow above the Malacchi hills back to the east of Wiz Chocobo Post.”

As they were making their way to their Chocobos, Leon’s ears picked up on a familiar sound. His eyes shot up towards the sky and it was as he feared, “Damn, it’s the Empire.” Empire’s airship was coming towards the runestone. Leon noticed that it was hovering at a low altitude, which meant they were ready to deploy soldiers.

Leon grabbed Luna’s hand and said just one word, “Run.”

Hand in hand, they ran away from the Empire and towards their Chocobos. “What are they doing here?” she complained.

“Probably investigating. Two thundering noises and a sudden shift in temperature would certainly raise some flags,” he presumed, while running.

They were barely a few feet away from Chocobos when Leon suddenly stopped in his track, causing Luna, who was running behind him, to bump into him. “What happened?” she asked.

“Do you hear that?” he asked her.

“Damn. Another airship!” she noticed an airship coming towards them from the direction they were running towards.

“Come on, we need to move quickly,” he urged, getting on his Chocobo.

Leon quickly assessed their situation. There were airships on either side of them so he had to come up with a new way. “That way,” he pointed towards the dense forest. “We will go through the forest; trees should reduce our visibility.”

Once Luna was properly seated on her Chocobo he asked, “Ready to ride?” he asked.

“Always,” she promptly replied.

They dashed through the forest all the way back to Wiz Chocobo Post. The street lights whizzed past them as they made their way past Killiam Haven towards the mountain slopes. They dismounted from their Chocobos and tried to figure out where to go next.

“Where do we go now?” he asked.

“There should be a cave here somewhere,” she said, looking around.

Everything looked ordinary with no cave or any sign of Ramuh in sight.

“Hey, look at the sky,” Leon pointed out.

“Nimbostratus clouds,” she observed the clouds above. Nimbostratus clouds cover the sky in a dark gray layer. The layer of clouds was thick enough to block out the sun.

“Ramuh is certainly reacting to the runestone,” he commented, walking away from her, looking for this mythical cave.

“It looks like the sky is about to tear open and engulf all in a torrent,” she predicted, still fixated on the sky.

“Then we’d better find this cave soon. I don’t see any entrance around here,” he stated, inspecting the area.

“I guess prayer is the only remedy now,” having said that, she closed her eyes and communicated to the Astral being.

‘Oh, the wise Fulgurian, I entreat you to grant me an audience with thee. I, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, the blood of the Oracle, aspire to assist the chosen King to restore light to this world. Without your blessings, such aspirations are but a fickle dream. Aid me, oh the merciful one.’

Her prayers were immediately answered with a crackling lightning bolt splitting the earth.

“And thus, Ramuh revealed the Fociaugh Hollow to have an audience with him,” she said with a smile looking at bewildered Leon, who was only a few feet away from where the lightning struck.

“So, Gods do hear your prayers.”

“Not just mine, everyone’s prayers heard equally,” she assured, making her way towards Leon.

“Then how come some prayers are answered and some don’t?” Leon asked the Oracle, giving her hand so she could climb on the ledge he was standing at.

She grabbed Leon’s hand and pulled herself forward. “All the prayers are heard, but only prayers meant for uplifting our souls are answered. Let me ask you this, if a small child wants to touch the fire, do you think parents would allow that?”

“No, the fire will burn the child.”

“What if the child cries and throws a tantrum to touch the fire?”

“Parents still won’t allow it. A small child might not know the dangers of the fire, but parents do.”

“Similarly, our desires are like that fire. If our desires can be detrimental to our soul in a long run, then the gods would not answer those prayers. Like a good parent, they will protect us from that fire, even if we cry or throw a tantrum.” She narrated as they made their way towards the entrance.

“Why do gods get to decide what’s good for me and what’s not?” Leon suddenly realized that their backpacks were still on their Chocobos. He jumped off the ledge and made his way to Chocobos.

“We humans can be very short-sighted. We can only see what’s in front of us. We can’t see the butterfly effect of our actions in the future. Gods can see past, present and future. Hence, they are best equipped to judge which wish to fulfill and which to avoid. We can pray and let our desires be known, and then trust God to fulfill it or not as they please. To trust that every situation God puts me through is for my own benefit; that is all faith is about.” She explained while Leon retrieved their backpacks from Chocobos.

Leon often forgets that the girl he is speaking to is the spiritual leader of the whole Eos. “It’s hard to keep faith when your prayers don’t get answered.”

“Any prayer done with pure hearts or intent is always answered. In my travels, I have learned that often our prayers are selfish, materialistic, or for a quick fix solution to our struggles. But it is in our struggles that we grow the most, but ironically, it is that struggle which we want to avoid the most.”

“What’s the point of praying if we are going to struggle anyway?” It just dawned to Leon that this is perhaps the first time she has spoken to him like an Oracle rather than Luna.

“Gods have mysterious ways of working. Our prayers are often answered, just not in the way we desire. A wise man one said that if you pray for patience, then God does not zap them with patience, but instead put them in a situation which requires them cultivate patience. If one prays for courage, then they are presented with an opportunity to be courageous. If one prays for closeness with the family, then God does not zap them with warm fuzzy feelings; Instead, the God give them opportunities to cultivate that bond. In looking for instant miracles, we often miss these opportunities presented to us. Unfortunately, it’s the lack of this understanding which turns people away from the God.” They were already by the entrance while chatting.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at her. She nodded in response.

They ventured into the pitch-dark cave, thankfully their flashlights lit up illuminating the way further. It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust in this ambience.

“Let’s walk slowly. We don’t know what danger lurks here,” he offered, leading the way.

Leon was careful with every step he took. His eyes constantly scanning the surroundings for any threat. They walked through a long straight corridor before coming to a more open area.

“It feels odd that we haven’t encountered any enemies so far. Perhaps it’s Ramuh’s doing?” he asked, but got no response from Luna. He quickly glanced at her, but she did not make an eye contact. He decided not to probe it further and rather focus on the task at hand, so he continued further.

As they went deeper into the first chamber of the cave, suddenly they were greeted by a colony of bats. The horde of bats flew over them as they instinctively ducked.

“First rule of exploring caves, stay in the center and avoid corners,” he said.

Walking further eventually, they came to a dead end. “Dead end so soon? I thought this cave went deep. There has to be a way around.” Yet again, he elicited no response from Luna.

He touched the wall of the cave and the stone was solid and cold. Looking at the condition of the cave, he figured it must have been years since humans set foot in here. Even in his time at Hunter’s there was no knowledge of this cave’s existence. He looked around for an alternative path and eventually saw a narrow passage in the rock wall.

“I think we should be able to slip through this gap,” he suggested, looking at Luna who did not respond.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm”

“Okay then, follow me,” he offered, and made his way through the narrow gap. The opening was so small that they had to go in sideways and move like that until they came out on the other side.

“Wait. Do you hear that?” Leon asked. Before Luna could reply, several Imps ambushed them. As Leon fought with the Imps, more joined the party. One of the Imps managed to attack Leon from the back and poison him.

Leon quickly glanced at Luna, who was supposed to be watching his back. She stood there motionless. “Luna, heal me,” he yelled, but she seemed frozen.

Creating some distance from the Imps, he quickly used the antidote and continued the fight. An Imp was about to attack Luna but was slashed in half by a mighty strike form Leon. He cleared out all Imps and checked on Luna. “Luna, are you okay?”

“Mhm”

“You sure?”

“Mhm”

Leon facepalmed before speaking again, “What is going on? Ever since we entered the cave, you haven’t spoken a word.”

“I-I am-m scared of d-dark and c-close spaces,” she confessed. “I am sorry I wasn’t able to help in the battle.”

“It’s all right. You should have said something sooner.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden on you. I thought I would be able to brave it, but I was wrong.”

“Didn’t you tell me once that relying on others is not a sign of weakness, but it’s a sign of trust?”

“I am sorry.”

“It’s all right. Just stay close to me.” Without waiting another second, she grabbed onto Leon’s hand as they moved forward.

‘I think it might be a good idea to have a conversation with her. It would help take her mind off from her fears. But what can I talk about?’

“I wonder how come we have more Astrals in my realm than here,” he asked as they walked further into the cave.

“What do you mean?”

“We have 24 Astrals in our realm. 16 of them, we can summon directly. Six of them appear randomly during battles or are summoned with items. Two of them I have only encountered in possession of sorceresses.”

“24 Astrals!” The tone in her voice indicated that this was a subject she enjoyed discussing very much.

“But I think Astrals here are a lot more powerful. They can cause quakes or cause thunder and rain. Hell, they can even wipe out the whole town from the face of the map if they choose. At least the Astrals in my realm had no such power.”

“Then what kind of power do they wield there?”

“We mainly summon them in battle, but the execution of their power is limited to the foe.”

“Astrals with such limited power. There has to be more than that.”

“Perhaps. Astrals here are part of people’s lives and cultural lore. Their actions can affect people’s lives directly, which I find fascinating.”

“So, in your realm, Astrals are nothing more than tools of war?”

“Yes.”

“That is sad. Astrals are beings with will and intelligence beyond human wisdom. I wonder how they must feel to be just a tool for war.”

“I don’t know.”

“What about messengers? Do they not convey the will of gods to you?”

“As far as I can tell there are no messengers in our realm. At least not in the sense you guys have it here.”

“Then who conveys Gods will to the people?”

“No one. Now that I think about it, we don’t even worship any gods.”

“I find that very disheartening. I take it that you don’t have any Oracles either?”

“Yes, we don’t have any Oracles in our world. We have sorceresses, though. They are the only ones who can wield magic naturally.”

“So, in your world, I would be a sorceress?”

“Yes. However, a sorceress in our world is often frowned upon and people are scared of them.”

“So, if where to come to your world, I’ll be a sorceress. An enemy of the world.”

“Even if you end up as the world's enemy, I'll... I'll be your knight,” Leon said.

“That is very sweet of you,” she said. Thankfully, it was dark, so no one could she her blush.

“Strange,” he said, seeming lost in thought. “I feel like I have said these exact words before.”

Author's notes:

This was one of the harder chapters to write as Luna is a spiritual leader of Eos, so I wanted to highlight that side of her in this chapter. I had to read up a lot of theology for this chapter.

I am posting this chapter on 12/22/2019 - so Happy Holidays everyone :)

Please leave a comment if you have enjoyed the story so far. Would love to chat with some of my readers. Or at least say 'Hi' so I know someone is readying this. Thanks :)

[ayakashiramblings]

Their Starbucks Orders - Dawn Faction

Ok, but I’m going to be frank here and say that I probably mixed up the menus. I looked at some Asian ones and the typical drinks here so feel free to correct me if you think any of them don’t make sense.

Finally, Ginnojo sucks. Boy-bye.

Koga Kitamikado

The only reason why he is here is because of MC, Kuya, Toichiro, Yura, Masanobu, some business partner, an elderly lady, a baby or... 

Basically, anyone from the city can drag him along. But it’s like his 387th choice when it comes to choosing drink establishments.

He orders.... tea.  Yay, Kuya and Yura get another Tea Party Buddy!

Whatever tea matches the blend you give him. It will remind him of you and your cute little sachet.

Secretly wants you to be the barista but then reconsiders upon realizing you could be serving tea to everybody else.

There’s also this seasonal drink -  Lemon Yoghurt Fermentation Frappuccino!

According to Starbucks, the beverage puts the limelight firmly on the benefits of fermentation, with three specific fermented ingredients. 

There’s rich yoghurt, flavoursome cheese, and a hint of amazake, a traditional Japanese drink made from fermented rice.

Still weak though to him.

Kuya and Yura

Hoo boy. Pinkies out and palms in your face?

I grouped them for a good reason. 

Would have probably flown back and forth between various Starbucks branches in various regions AND countries... were it not for Kuya/Yura’s MC saying she would miss him.

Cue both of them losing to the puppy eyes and MC high-fiving Gaku/Koga.

Feels morally obligated to report back to one another on whether the Dark Caramel Coffee Sphere Frappuccinos or the Watermelon & Lychee Aloe Frappuccinos are really as amazing as they sound.

You can bet Kuya is sneering at those ’authors’ who deem it necessary to talk about their novel aloud and make their writing painfully obvious.

True authors come up with ideas while napping on Koga’s or your veranda.

Somehow, the caffeine does Absolutely Nothing?

He has a soft spot for the chocolate drinks to satisfy his sweet tooth and not burn his tongue off. 

Low-key had a bonding moment with Yura while sipping with two straws on the same drink.

Yura did survive on fruits for his daily sugar intake so he does have a preference for certain fruity palettes. 

BUT. HE. LOVES. THE. JELLY.

So that’s why he would most likely go for the Yuzu Honey Jelly Yoghurt.

His MC is jelly of his love of jelly over her.

Brings back some for everyone... to the point he might as well open up a Starbucks.

“Why, indeed, that is a great idea, Sir Kuya. Let us use Lady MC’s place as...”

“NO!”

Ginnojo

... This idiot, I swear.

Doesn’t give a single hoot about the drinks.

He just goes for all the food. 

Like, why? Who the heck pays that much for the Roast Chicken Soba salad? 

WHY ARE YOU ORDERING 19 croissants?! 

... Babe, there are several other eateries that actually serve this as their actual dishes.

iT’s eXpenSive.

I cannot.

No picture for you because nobody needs to visualise the horror.

NO ONE. NOBODY.

Aoi

Dude, he runs a Milk Hall with Oji (occasionally)

Wait, do we have Milk Halls now? I have never seen one, honestly.

Holy, what if HE is the barista at Starbucks.

The poor man is going to lose his sanity.

Maybe Kuya would purposely order the most complicated drink there.

A red-eye coffee combines a good old cup of joe with an extra something from espresso.

Takes shots (or ventis) of this to tolerate the thing called life as an art student. 

Never mind all that extra whipped cream, chocolate drizzle, or caramel sauce— only ChILDren NeEd iT.

The golden eye is used to side-eye Yura and the teal for rolling at Kuya. 

There was one drink that did capture his attention.

Their Vanilla Latte has a rich, cosy aroma that just reminds him of baking up a storm... the creamy milk instantly giving off an all-around feeling of warmth...

Milk... cooking...

.... OMG WORK!

So, that’s why it’s only a treat. Poor Aoi.

[storylocke]

The Light - Ch 2

[Virginia stepped outside and was stunned to see it was already night. Or maybe it was much earlier than her or her mother thought. She looked at the ticket to check the time but couldn't find one… Curious. Ah well, she was out of the house and allowed to explore, no way was she going back to let her mother know the technicalities!

Iki Town was all uphill but Virginia didn't mind. The night was beautiful and as her mother said, getting to see a show by herself was a real treat. She was more than rested and no one else was around, so she lets herself muse aloud as she played out her future success.]

Virginia:

Alright, Verge! You're in the middle of a challenge! We gotta win, and we're going to win if you just-! [What was that?! Her excitement dies down as she starts to look around. No one was in sight… so why did she feel like she was being watched? She curls her fists as she glances at the tall grass that had made its way across the road. Didn't Mom say the path should be clear? Hnnnggg… but it had been years since her mother lived here. Longer than Virginia had been alive. Maybe the road had gone into neglect. She starts to back away though as the grass starts to rustle, but the creature suddenly charges toward her in full on aggression!]

Yungoos:

[Slows down in her charging as she sizes up her target, her sharp teeth bared as she approaches, but it comes off as something of a sick smile on her face] Light… I love Alola's light… so warmmm…

Virginia:

St-stay back! I don't have any lights! I didn't even bring a flashlight!

Young Man's Voice:

Over here!

Man's Voice:

What's going on?!

[The Yungoos pauses as her attention turns to the road behind the girl. She lets out a low growl as she bristles her fur in anticipation before a Litten darts between Virginia and the Yungoos as a Rowlet lands beside him.]

Litten:

Ah, it's you! [Little less concerned and grows a bit haughty as he stares down the menace.] I saw a couple of Skull Grunts pass by, but they were heading the other way. I sure wish you punks would try challenging the League or something instead of causing so much trouble all the time.

Virginia:

Did you-??? [That was the same voice she heard a moment ago. She can't help but look back wondering if the other voice she heard was a Trainer. …. No one. Well not really no one since there seemed to be a straggler in this wild pack.]

Popplio:

[Little slow to the party as he pulls up on the other side of Litten. He was wasn't built for land, you guys!] Wait a minute, Zossie?! What are you doing out here? We've been looking for you. We know you were the one to tear up the Boss's chair, but he's not mad-

Yungoos:

[Scoffs at him] It tasted like cardboard and electrical appliances. [Her smile turns a bit wider, more disturbing as she gazes up at the girl again.] I've found something better… more tempting…

Rowlet:

Why not have a taste of this? [He hops a moment and appears to reach for something under his wing, but it's not an item that flings out from underneath. Leafage attack! … It doesn't do much, but made her flinch.]

Yungoos:

[Did not like that at all! She rears back a moment and looks ready to return the favor but the three Pokemon guarding all step forward as though to dare her to try. Starts to back up instead and lets out a Growl at the tiny owl.] As if I have time for the likes of you! [Flees Back the way she came]

[The group remains tense until the rustle of brush finally dissipates and there comes a collective sigh. Virginia stood still shaking as she didn't know what to expect from the apparent guild now.]

Popplio:

That was awesome! How'd you do that?!

Rowlet:

[Soft sigh] Well, I've been practicing. It's no captain magic, but at least I'm not so useless now.

Litten:

Ah, ease up, buddy. That's still better than the rest of us right now. Main thing is we got the girl safe. [They all turn their attention to her] You okay, kid?

Virginia:

Th-thank you. [Smiles at them and gives a little bow] I never knew so many Pokemon could talk before! What are your names?

[They all exchange a nervous glance to each other before the bird speaks up.]

Rowlet:

[Curious as he looks her over more carefully] It's a lot more common around here these days. For someone not from here, you don't appear too surprised.

Virginia:

Is it that obvious?

Popplio:

[Shakes head] Nah. Melemele is a pretty small place, so between the three of us, I feel like we know just about everyone on the island.

Virginia:

[Guess she's going to stick out like a sore thumb no matter what she does around here, huh? Sheepishly.] I just moved in yesterday, but this is my first time out of the house. [Perks up as she looks back at the Rowlet] I have a talking Meowth back home. It was a shock when we met, but maybe you would know him?

Litten:

[Thoughtful] Just moved… [sits down and raises a paw] Well, let's Tackle these one question at a time. You can call me Kukui, [points to the Rowlet] that one is Ilima-

Ilima:

[raises wing] Greetings~

Litten:

[Motions to the Popplio] -And this is Hau.

Hau:

[Raises paw as though waving] Hiya! So what were you doing out here all alone then?

Virginia:

[Ah...yes...that. It probably did seem silly to mention she had a Pokemon but then have no way to defend herself back there.] I… well…

Man's Voice:

There you all are!

[The group turns to see a tall, thin man in a white lab coat. He gives them a wave as he comes up the road from the same direction Virginia had.]

Virginia:

Oh! It's the professor! [Waves back and starts to trot over] Good evening, Prof. Lillie. What are you doing out so late?

Lillie:

[Wry laugh] I wouldn't call it late just yet but… [He's getting ahead of himself] I should ask the same about you. How's it going, Verge? Didja find all the Charjabug already? I thought we wouldn't start that until tomorrow.

Kukui:

[Bit uneasy] So you two already know each other?

Lillie:

Of course, where are my manners? Gentlemen, this is Virginia Faba. I've been talking with her the past few months over the phone, as you all might know. She's just moved here and is enrolled as a student at the Battle Agency.

Virginia:

[Nods happily] And if these three know about that, then I assume you're "the boss" Hau mentioned?

Lillie:

Eh… yes and no. They don't actually belong to me, they've just been staying with me at the lab while we try to figure things out. Um... Actually, to answer your first question, I'm out here looking for my daughter. Have you seen her by chance?

Virginia:

…. …. … Is she a Yungoos?

Lillie:

….. …..No?

Hau:

Sorry, we almost got attacked by Zossie before you showed up.

Lillie:

Oh no... Was she okay? I mean, does it look like we're going to be able to get her back or... [The three Pokemon don't seem to want to answer in front of their guest, but the soft shaking of their heads tells him that they may have lost her... Looks between them all though and it doesn't look like anyone was hurt in the encounter so… looks to Virginia] You must be very strong then, or at least quick thinking. You've got to battle with me some time so I can give you an assessment.

Kukui:

Later, Molayne. Virginia didn't fight, and all Ilima did was scare the deranged thing off.

Ilima:

Which doesn't bode well for your girl if the weasel is still out there.

Hau:

Still no sign of Miss Lillie either, but didn't she leave with Guzma earlier? She should be fine with him.

Virginia:

They're right, I haven't seen anyone out here tonight until that happened. Of course, I don't live far from here, so- Wait! [Hastily goes to pull out her ticket.] I was on my way to the Ride Pokemon Show. My mom received a free ticket, maybe they went to see it too?

Lillie:

[Nods] It's likely she's made it to town by now either way. Come on, let's get a move on.

[As the others start to continue uphill, Virginia starts to twist her fingers nervously as she stays on the edge of the grass.]

Virginia:

Um, professor… I have a bit of a confession. [They all look back in confusion] If, um… if we're planning to split up to look for her, I don't have any way to defend myself if that thing comes back.

Kukui:

[Somewhat suspicious] I thought you'd just return home real quick to grab your Meowth. We'll just go on ahead.

Virginia:

I don't actually own Looker though. My mom said she had a Pokemon for me tomorrow, but swore the road to town was clear when she sent me out. If I return home, she won't let me leave again.

[The plea in the girl's voice seems to raise some concern and the group returns to her side of the grass.]

Lillie:

Then one of us needs to go with you.

Kukui:

[Looks between the other two] And not just for tonight either. [To Virginia] You said you're going the the Battle Agency, right?

Virginia:

Yes…? [Shifts a bit uncomfortably.]

Kukui:

Then eventually I need you to defeat Team Rocket using the Battle Agency. I'll try to regain administrative control while you distract them.

Virginia:

Me? But I'm a terrible Trainer! It's why mom mother won't let me have my own Pokemon!

Hau:

Seriously, prof- [ahem] we just met her!

Lillie:

"Eventually," you guys. [Crosses arms and looks down at the Litten] But that is a large request to drop so suddenly. Hate to tell you, old friend, but the Battle Agency won't even be open for a few weeks.

Kukui:

Then it'll give us time to get her ready. Ilima, you going with her? You seem eager to get involved after that last encounter.

Ilima:

….. [Looks at Hau] His family is the one normally involved in these affairs.

Hau:

I want to stay behind and look after Lillie and Cosmog.

Kukui:

We're gonna be moving fast too, you can't expect him to keep up like this when he has trouble catching up already. [To Hau] No offense.

Hau:

[Waves it off with his flipper] None taken. Besides, Ilima, you're the only one who can fight.

Virginia:

[Well while they're bickering, she'll just ask the professor] Cosmog…?

Lillie:

[Runs hand over his face. Hoo...boy. It might do well to keep Hau close if only so he doesn't get the girl in trouble with his big mouth.] Please… Don’t tell anyone about this… About Cosmog… It’s… It’s a secret, okay? We all want to help, but things have gotten far beyond our understanding.

Virginia:

Oh… um, okay. I won't tell anyone then.

Lillie:

[Nods. Good. Now to these three] Doesn't anyone want this thing?! [That got their attention as the three Pokemon retake their places and quietly look up at him] I think we should let her make the call if she [with emphasis] decides to go through with it. Virginia? Which of them do you want to stay with you?

Virginia:

I… uh… [Looks between all of them]

Kukui:

[Huffs at him] Mo, you're already thinking the same thing I am, so don't be acting like there's any choice in the matter.

Virginia:

Well, I do really like cats. [Turns to the cat] Could you do me a favor?

Kukui:

[Tenses up, slowly looks back at her] Me? Nah, nah, nah! Not me. Sorry, but something already came up. I need to be working behind the scenes, remember? Infiltrating the system?

Virginia:

Oh… okay... It's just you seem to know a lot about all this, so I thought you might be able to help me out. [Not Popplio, not Litten then, but looking at the somber little bird, she can't help but feel wrong.] You've been pretty quiet during all this. You're actually a Trainer, aren't you?

Everyone:

…… [confusion and uneasiness, they all stare at her unsure how to answer.]

Ilima:

… I was once, but that was a long time ago.

Hau:

We all were actually. [Slight laugh] Probably why no one wants to go. I'm not even sure how much help we'd be except advice. How'd you guess?

Virginia:

Just a feeling. Looker, my Meowth, he can't really fight either but we talk all the time. I've kinda suspected something was strange with you talkers.

Hau:

Huh? Oh! I wasn't lying about there being lots of Pokemon here who can. Just makes it harder to tell who is and isn't secretly human in this messed up place.

Lillie:

Yeah… Here, why don't I give you one of mine for now? At least as a real Pokemon we know he can protect you, but we'll be sure to stay close by.

Virginia:

[Brightens up as he hands her the ball and just HAS to see what she got] Awww! A Fennekin! [Picks it up and lifts it practically over her head as it squeals at her happily] Thank you~

Lillie:

That little guy is full of surprises. I received him from a friend in Kalos a while back, so there's no telling what he'll evolve into. They have a case going on that's more mild than Alola's, but... Ah… we're not really sure what our case is.

Virginia:

Well, if it's anything like my cousin went through, I wouldn't worry about it. The Voices will be sure to fix all of that~! Starting with finding your daughter. [Starts to walk off towards town with she gets caught by the professor's long arm clapping her on the shoulder] Hm?

Lillie:

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Not yet, Chu Pi. That just opened an entire can of Wurmple.

Virginia:

…. [Blinks at him. More curious than concerned.] Have you never heard of the Voices? Or are you wondering about my cousin? Because he lived in Orre, but if you know where he went, I'd love to know what happened to him.

Kukui:

[Motions between himself and Hau] Oh, our families are intimately aware of those things. Verge, have YOU started hearing voices? Sudden impulses? Feeling reckless? Lack of control over yourself?

Ilima:

[Amused] Don't most teenagers, at some point?

Kukui:

[Annoyed] More extreme.

Virginia:

[Ah… she shouldn't have said that. Now they all look very serious on the matter] My mind is always racing with lists of what I want to, or need to do; schoolwork, and recalling facts, little daydreams, music, and um… [she didn't want to say how frequently she had the voices of her parents or herself scolding her for one reason or another. They didn't need to know everything anyway.] And you know, stuff. It comes and goes. But I'm really feeling it right now~!

Kukui:

Comes and goes…? [Wait… whaaaa?? Shakes off the confusion] That just brings up even more questions!

Ilima:

What happened to us taking turns with the questions?

Lillie:

[Waves him off to quiet him] If it's possible to have it go away, I'd rather if we tried to find Anabel while the power is hot. Verge, I'm sorry you might miss your show, but would you mind helping us?

Virginia:

Oh! I want to help though. The show was just a means to leave the house. [Looks down at her new pet] Come on, Fennekin, let's see what's out there!

Lillie:

Verge, wait! I'm not sure you know where-!

Ilima:

[Aaand she's gone. Flies up a bit to see if he can still see her as she races into the grass down the road.] She changed her attitude rather quick, didn't she?

Hau:

Receiving a Starter does that to them, I think.

Kukui:

Yeeeaaah… [Flits tail in thought. Deep breath] But something is weird about this. All the elements are there, but we still can't tell if she's a Chosen or just unfortunate. Come on, we better make sure she gets-

Ilima:

There goes Fennekin. [Puzzled, but somewhat expectant tone] …And she disappeared as well.

Other three:

… … …

Lillie:

[The professor lifts his glasses slightly as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose] Kukui, I've dealt with a lot of children over the years, but I'm not sure I'm ready for this.

Kukui:

Hau and I traveled with the last Chosen. I'm not saying things will go exactly the same as last time, but at least we've an idea of what to expect. If he stays with you, I'll go with her just to keep an eye on things.

Ilima:

What about me?

Kukui:

We'll still need your help, I'm sure, but for now I'm going back to Verge's house so I can follow her. Why don't you three see if we can contact the Kahuna somehow and meet us at the gates?

Lillie:

But what about Anabel?

Hau:

She's still got Guzma with her, I think she'll be safe for a while. I hate to say it, but finding Tutu might be the best thing we can do. He knows way more about this than all of us combined.

Lillie:

Right… We'll see you at the gate then.

=+=

[The little Litten found the door closed when he arrived, but scurried around the corner where he could leap up to the small balcony and peer inside. Virginia was talking to her mother, looking very sour about it, and he felt a twinge of dread. The girl had warned them that if she went back to the house she might not be able to leave again that night. If only he could get in and explain the situation… For now all he could do was press his ear to the back door and try to listen.]

Mom:

Ha! Scared of losing, I bet! You got into one encounter and already you're running home to me. And what about those Pokemon that came to defend you? You didn't even think to use one them to fight? Pokemon like someone able to command them, it's how you earn their respect. It's how you get any respect in this world, you demand it! [Lets out a sigh and softens a bit as she runs both her hands through her daughter's wavy dark curls.] What are we ever going to do with you?

Virginia:

I would have taken one, but they already belong to Professor Lillie. [Holds up the Poke Ball she got.] I got to finally meet him in person, and he even gave me a Starter! See?

Mom:

Huh. [Takes it and looks it over. It has a little sticker on it that looks like a flame. Gives it back.] Just "gave" it to you? Or was there some stipulation?

Virginia:

I… [She knows she couldn't teller her about the "favor" at the Battle Agency, or how she had been hearing voices all day- maybe even THE Voices if the professor and his team were right. Bites her lip a bit in thinking she could still tell her mother the truth but was it enough?] Well, he did ask me if I could help him find his daughter. She apparently went out with a friend earlier and didn't come home.

Mom:

[Smiles smugly] And there's your catch. But that sounds like a simple enough exchange. [She turns her back as she takes a few steps, a finger to her lips in thought.] Though this is the same gentleman you've been in contact with the past few months. Purely business, I know, but it wouldn't be very becoming for a young girl to be be making friends with an old man.

Virginia:

[Ahem] He's not that old, actually… Maybe around your age?

Mom:

[Turns back to her with a gleam in her eye] Then perhaps it's time I had a word with him. I wonder if the girl might be around your age instead of some young assistant of his. Even if she were younger than you, a sort of motherly or sisterly approach to her would paint you in a good light with the community. And our family needs good publicity right now. ...I could work with this.

Virginia:

[Curious buuut hesitates] …. Sooo... does that mean I can I go?

Mom:

Yes, go! You'll need to catch up now. I'll need to make a few phone calls while you take care of that. And you better tell me all about it when you get back.

Virginia:

[Brightens] I'll make sure to give you a full report! [And with that, she's out the door, takes a deep sigh of relief, and heads back for the road only to come around the corner and- Oh! A Litten is climbing over the railing to the deck.] Hello... Is that you, Kukui?

Kukui:

[Bit of a shake and perches himself on the rail as he can be somewhat at her level to speak.] You got it! So what was that all about?

Virginia:

Just my mom being… Mom. I told you she'd be mad. BUT! She said I can go, and that's the important thing~! I'm sorry you had to come looking for me. I'm not even sure what happened. I kind of blacked out. Where are the others anyway?

Kukui:

They got started on the search. I just thought I'd come back to tell you that we're meeting everyone else at the gate to Iki Town. [She gives a nod and starts back up the road to town like she had before. He leaps down from his perch and gives a trot to keep up beside her. Sorry, Verge, he's not dropping the subject.] So what was that but about using Mo to boost your reputation?

Virginia:

[He would have to catch that part, wouldn't he?] Ah, well I don't know what she's planning yet, but I won't fret about it. She said she'll talk to him, so it's not like there's anything you all won't know about when it happens. [Soft hum as she smiles a bit to herself] You really worry about him, don't you?

Kukui:

Yeah… you could say that. Back when I was human, you could say we've grown up together. We came from different islands but met up when it came time for us to do our Trials. He was a pretty sickly kid, and a real homebody, so I tried to make sure to stay close and help him out. He's gotten a lot better, but I guess I still worry. Especially since everything started to go screwy around here, I'm scared he's in over his head.

Virginia:

[Huh, that's a long time.] I wish I had friends like that. So who did you used to be? Back when you were a Trainer.

Kukui:

Me? Still Kukui, [puffs up a bit of playful pride] just a lot bigger and more impressive looking. I was the Pokemon professor for Alola before he took over. In fact, Molayne's been staying at my lab while we try to figure this world out.

Virginia:

[Stops short and he slows down to look back at her] You mean he's not really a professor?

Kukui:

[Stops too now] Huh? No, no, no! He still is. Believe me, if anyone was going to take my place, I'm glad it's him. [Grin] First Captain, then a professor at the Observatory, a member of the Elite Four; he really did the best of the three of us. [Y'know, saying all that out loud kind of makes their earlier conversation seem silly in hindsight.] You're in good hands. Maybe he wasn't the one I should have been worried about.

Virginia:

[There's the gate, but there's no one here yet. Curious as she's not sure if he means now or way back when.] You mean back during your trials? Who was the third one?

[Before he can answer, the little cat's ears perk and he looks swords the stairs. Footsteps, but also...music? Virginia seemed amused too as she watched a moment to see what was coming down when a boy in a back t-shirt and over sized slacks came jogging down the steps and the lyrics he was singing to himself became clearer.]

Kukui:

Ha! There he is now. [Hollers] Guzma!

Guzma:

We don't have an agent or anyone to help us, but we're going to be big someday soon! 𝆕 [Huh? Someone call him? There's a girl over there, but he swore it was a man's voice. Comes over.]

Virginia:

Him? But he's just a kid like me.

Guzma:

[Somehow appears even more confused than she is] Did I miss something?

Kukui:

Over here. [They both look down to see the Litten take a seat between them.] We told ya there was a new girl coming, yeah?

Guzma:

[Crosses his arms across his chest, a bit coldly] Yeah? [Looks at her, but he seems more smug than bitter to finally meet.] Fresh as Oran Berries, shipped all the way here from Hoenn. But that's got nothin' to do with me.

Kukui:

[Annoyed] Guzma…

Virginia:

[Holds out hand for him to take] It's a pleasure to meet you nonetheless. My name is Virginia Faba. My father spoke highly of you, even if mostly in regards to your brute strength. [The boy doesn't take her hand and instead stares at her all the more perplexed as her mind started to race. Maybe her father had actually said the guy was a total brute, now that she thought about it, but at least her words sounded better.]

Guzma:

[Hmmph. Turns to the Litten] No really, where'd ya pick up this chick? Flattery don't do much, but...thanks? [Still, puffs up with a bit of pride] I don't know how he'd know me, but I did score pretty well in a Double Battle at a Friendly Competition the other day. Guess he's a fan of the battle scene, huh?

Kukui:

[Just shakes his head] Just remember, you can only know your real strength when show care and understanding of your Pokemon.

Guzma:

Oh yeah? And who went and made you my new guardian, fluffykins? It's bad enough I live in a Hen House, and those chicks are full of unwanted advice. [To Virginia with a mix of annoyance and wry amusement as he explains.] Whenever I hang out with the ladies from the office, they always humble-brag about their families while pretending to be complaining. I’d much rather hang out here by myself and see if I can set a new record for the most Malasadas eaten in a single sitting! [Virginia stars to giggle even as she tries to hide it behind her hand.] See? She gets it. [Crosses his arms across his chest and glares down at the cat] You don't think I'm taking care of myself? Here, I'll even prove it to you. Ya wanna have a battle?

Virginia:

He can't fight. [Slight bounce] But I'd love to! It'd be my very first Trainer battle!

Guzma:

Ha! I knew you were fresh! Be careful, girly, 'cause you're about to get crushed!

Virginia:

[Slight squeak] I was thinking more like short tussle?

Guzma:

[Cheeky grin] What? You got a problem short stuff? I can stand guard even when I’m squatting! [Does so]

Kukui:

[Sigh] If we're gonna do this, don't be Mudbray about it. I'm playing referee. One-on-one, loser pays standard.

Virginia:

Um… okay. I'm not sure what that means...

Guzma:

Fine by me, let's do this!

[They each take ten steps apart from each other to lay a space for them to battle. Take a moment to get into position and finally Kukui calls for a clean start. As the battle gets underway, Virginia sends out Fennekin while Guzma shows off a Skarmory! That's a Pokemon she recognizes! Virginia gets a wide grin.]

Virginia:

Okay! I know what to do here~! Fennekin, use Inferno!

Guzma:

[Not even concerned] King's Shield!

Virginia:

[The flames look flashy at least but… nothing happened?] Wait, what?!

Guzma:

Tch, you didn't think I'd send out a Pokemon with an obvious type disadvantage without having a way to defend itself, did ya?

Virginia:

Yes, well… [slight huff as she clenched her first] I can guard too! Fire Shield!

Guzma:

[Amused] Guard Swap.

Fennekin:

[Okay, now it's his turn to huff at this] What are you guys even doing? This isn't fighting!

Skarmory:

Maybe I just plan to see what you're capable of right now.

Kukui:

[Runs a paw over his face as he's trying to keep from commenting. Stop messing with the girl, jerk.]

Guzma:

[Saw that.] What? Ya told me to play nice.

Virginia:

I don't need you to go easy on me. Try Inferno again!

[This time it does hit! ...And the bird is still standing. That's not good. Skarmory gives a sharp little screech though as the Burn sets in though.]

Guzma:

[Heavy sarcasm] Oh no, my first defeat! [Goes to recall it] I will admit, that's some nice firepower ya got going for such a small fry. Where'd ya get that little fuzzball anyway? I don't even know what that Pokemon is called.

Virginia:

[She knows he basically gave that to her, but she'll take the compliment at least as she lifts the little fox to snuggle him and let the boy run his hand between the Fire-type's ears.] It's a Fennekin, I haven't named him yet. Isn't he just adorable? I just got him today from Professor Lillie. He should be meeting us any minute… OH! I think I see him now!

Kukui:

[Slightly suspicious] Yeah… how convenient…

Guzma:

Ah… maybe I should go.

Kukui:

[Annoyed] What did you do?

Guzma:

Nothin'! But did you know… Everybody at Game Freak loves sweets? We got a full case at the shop the other day, and Gracie let me take some home. [Tries to look at Virginia to drop the hint and nods his head to the gate.] I thought after a battle ya might want some? So I should go get some?

Kukui:

[Smooth, real smooth there] Just be honest. Why are you-?

Lillie:

[Takes a moment to catch his breath] Guzma, where have YOU been?!

[All three look over to see the professor huffing as he makes his way toward them with the other two Starters close behind.]

Lillie:

Please tell me that if Anabel isn't with you, you know where she is.

Virginia:

You look pale, sir, are you alright?

Lillie:

For the moment, but you all should know, there's a powerful presence coming from the sky!

Kukui:

What?! Is it another Ultra Wormhole or a voice?

Hau:

A Wormhole! I wonder if that means something came in or went out.

Ilima:

It is pretty amazing. [Looks to Guzma] Why would Aether want to set up a branch here in Alola anyway?

Guzma:

How should I know?! Not like I got anythin' to do with them. Heck, I haven't even been off Melemele Island yet.

Lillie:

It is still something worth investigating.

Virginia:

[Had been stroking the fox in her arms but shifts him to one side as she tries to raise her hand] Um… excuse me… I think I'm lost again.

Lillie:

Ehehe… sorry, Verge. [Clears throat] Aether Paradise is a large conservation group that tries to find and protect wildlife. However, and this was years ago, mind you, they somehow got started on interdimensional studies. The Ultra Wormholes are natural to Alola, and something I've studied for years, but they took it even further by trying to make contact with the creatures that live on the other side.

Virginia:

[Perks up] I've heard about that! That's what brought the Ultra Beasts over, right?

Hau:

Well, that's what ended up happening, but I don't think that was planned…

Lillie:

No, they were trying to find their way into other worlds. Experiments trying to find a world far different from Alola. That's what I heard anyway.

Kukui:

That's actually how my parents ended up meeting was after my dad ended up in some kind of alternate Alola. But my wife theorized that there's hundreds of smaller worlds that line the "Dreamscape" between this Alola and the cyber one. Except a few years ago… [glances at Guzma] at least it only feels like a few years ago, something went wrong. This monster, not just an Ultra Beast, but a real monster, got loose.

Hau:

I wasn't there when it actually broke out, but I know it's because the Aether President and, um… the leader of Team Skull went into one of those Wormholes. We think whatever is behind all this followed them back here. Things were still okay for a while, but the gateways have gotten out of control!

Lillie:

[Nods] Which, unfortunately, has caused a lot of trouble in keeping track of anything. Days and nights don't function properly anymore, people seem to be dropping in anachronistically, [flustered noise as he points to their companions] people and Pokemon arriving in the wrong forms, it's a mess. But if it turns out that we're not even in our own world anymore, but in the Created World, then a lot of things would make sense. At least, that's my hypothesis at the moment. Of course, I wouldn't know, but it does feel too realistic to be Cyberspace, doesn't it? [Turns as he catches something out of the corner of his eye] And Guzma, where are you going!

Guzma:

[Had been slowly trying to sneak away from the group, and freezes a moment mid-step] To get a drink?

Lillie:

[Exasperated] Alright, but you're still avoiding my question. Where is Miss Lillie? Wasn't she with you?

Guzma:

[Opens mouth to say something… shuts it. Grins as he does little finger guns] Sophocles! [Starts to run off]

Ilima:

… … [holds a wing up like a hand to talk behind to Virginia] If it makes you feel any better, I wasn't around for any of this that they're referring to so I'm just as lost as you are. [Clears throat, starts to fly to where he can hover for a moment] Don't worry, I think I'll try to stay with him to make sure he stays on task.

Kukui:

But- [Aaand he's already flying that way]

Lillie:

I think that would be a great idea, actually. No offense, old friend, but you seem to be pushing quite a few buttons with him lately. [Smiles warmly] Besides, I think Ilima might be able keep up with him better.

Kukui:

[Looks up at Virginia] … Guess I'll keep an eye on her for a little longer.

Hau:

At least that way we all can team up on this. One person who knows what happened, one who doesn't. But sometimes it helps to see things better when you can get an outside observation.

Kukui:

Yeah, that too. [Sighs] But in this case I think it's less that Guzma doesn't know and is instead covering for Anabel. I've a terrible feeling I know where she went. Let's try this search thing again. [Motions for all of them to follow as they enter town]

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Oh snap! It actually fit! 8O The opening to SM/USUM is veeery slow going, so I apologize for just how long this is. I think even with TPP speeding through, we still didn't through all these introductions in the first hour. But hey! We've almost got the gang all here! You know who's coming next. <3 Which on that note, I'd like to point out that I did debate on whether to use the professor's first name or last name for his name tag, and decided to go with Lillie even if that might be a bit confusing for those of us who associate that name with, well... Lillie. But the Pokemon professors always go by their last name except when a very close friend might refer to them, so everyone would be calling him "Lillie" anyway except for Kukui and maybe Guzma when he's feeling haughty. So it is what it is I guess. 

Also, I gotta say, I'm sure a lot of guys here are looking pretty out of character, but it's still both funny and interesting to put together a personality based on their dialogue, since Pokemon never uses voice acting (except the Pokemon of course and a few exceedingly rare occassions like for music) the influx and tone is entirely up to interpretation. That said, I am finding Guzma being a total brat when he was a kid to be hilarious, while on the flipside Kukui seems to have gotten a lot more serious.

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 110: Onion Gang

“No more weirdo friends.”

There have been a handful of Steven Universe episodes that I only watched once, didn’t like, and didn’t watch again until reviewing them for this project. Time has been kind to many of them: I’ve come to appreciate Ronaldo (especially in Rising Tides, Crashing Skies, which I was super down on) as well as Say Uncle and The New Lars. I don’t necessarily love all these episodes now, but they’re a lot better than I once thought.

But yeah sometimes my first impression is right on the money.

Onion Gang is the most boring episode of the series by a country mile. The show has meandered before in the likes of Cat Fingers, Steven’s Lion, and Open Book, but these stories at least resolve in interesting ways. Looking forward, Escapism has even fewer words than Onion Gang, but it’s designed to simultaneously add to Steven’s many ordeals and act as the calm before the storm (and it’s also, y’know, watchable; silence can be a good thing, ask any episode of Samurai Jack). But Onion Gang is relentlessly uninteresting throughout.

The glacial pace isn’t helped by comedy bits falling flat at a rate that’s almost impressive. I try pretty hard to find things I like in episodes I don’t, but there’s literally nothing here for me. That is not easy. Especially considering how much of a sucker I am for Onion, slapstick, and weird goofy side adventures. This should be right up my alley, but hoo boy is it not.

Still, I’ll give it a try: the most generous reading of Onion Gang is that it focuses on Steven misunderstanding Onion, and if you squint, you can draw a parallel between his assumptions about Onion and his assumptions about Rose (both silent, mysterious figures in his life) being proven wrong. False narratives are a recurring theme in Steven’s arc, and another one pops up here. But even if that broadest of strokes is an intended connection, it doesn’t stop Onion Gang from being a catastrophe.

The only Onion Pal that leaves any impression is Garbanzo, and the impression is that Garbanzo is the worst character the show has ever produced. Villains like Kevin and Aquamarine are horrible, but that’s the point. Irritating secondary characters like Ronaldo and Lars have actual depth, and otherwise further the plot and are reliable for decent humor at times (it’s a shame that only one of them grows, but still). Garbanzo is a kid who shouts the word “Garbanzo” as if this is inherently amusing, and uh that’s it. The joke isn’t funny the first time, and doesn’t become funny through brute force repetition. It’s just annoying.

Squash, Soup, and Pinto are...there? They mostly exist for the gag of Steven naming all of them, a continuation of his unusually domineering presence in Onion Gang. Because oh yeah, on top of everything else this is a dreadful Steven episode. It’s not Sadie’s Song, because his presumptuous attitude doesn’t cause actual harm, but this is a bad look on a hero whose powers are supposed to be based on empathy. His narration of Onion’s actions mostly acts as another gag, and like Garbanzo, it’s not a funny one, but that doesn’t stop the episode from repeating it ad nauseam.

Steven’s weird behavior doesn’t stop there. The overlong go-kart scene ends with Steven seeing Garbanzo spray ketchup on himself, then instantly forgetting he saw this and openly wondering if Garbanzo is hurt. Which makes this the dumbest Steven has ever been. It makes zero sense that he would be bamboozled by something he saw faked with his own eyes, to the point where the gag itself becomes confusing: this would be like if he saw Amethyst eat his dinner then asked where his dinner went, it requires Steven’s intelligence to plummet so perilously that it confounds what we’re supposed to find funny about the joke in the first place.

But the most bizarre misfire by far is Steven declaring that he’s “the lonely boy with no friends his age” when Connie Maheswaran exists. She’s busy (as is the underused Peedee), but our hero makes the flying leap that this means he’s utterly friendless. This is a kid defined by his ability to make friends. He saves the ocean once and the planet twice by making friends. The entire show hinges on his fundamental friendliness. This plot point is ludicrous, even when we take into account that Steven is being annoyingly melodramatic.

A nitpick, but one that fuels the Ronaldo-level conspiracy theorist in me, is that Connie was prepping for school in Buddy’s Book and is attending school in Mindful Education, so if she’s shopping for school supplies in Onion Gang then either she’s doing it super late (which doesn’t sound like something she or her mother would ever allow) or this episode, which mind you is stated to take place as summer ends, should've aired between the two Connie episodes. The conspiracy theory is that Onion Gang would’ve looked even weaker when shoved between two episodes about what good friends Steven and Connie are, so it got moved to settle between two Crystal Gem stories.

I think that it’s theoretically possible to make a good episode that evokes unambiguous pathos from Onion. But considering the character works because he’s this strange, menacing force of nature in an otherwise pretty normal population of humans, I’m not sure he’s a character that needs the depth. Onion Friend hit a sweet spot of making him grow a little, but maintain his creepy charm. Onion Gang goes further, but in doing so removes everything interesting about Beach City’s resident weirdo. Gone is the kid who two episodes ago was robbing the arcade with a crowbar and a bandit mask. Here instead is an odd but sensitive kid whose mischievous friends somehow render him less mischievous than usual. It’s bad enough to have a boring episode, but a boring episode with Onion as the focus? Again, it’s almost impressive.

There’s no reason to watch this episode instead of any other Onion-centric episode if Onion is your jam. There’s no reason to watch this episode instead of any other Steven-centric episode barring Sadie’s Song if Steven is your jam. There’s no reason to watch this episode instead of rewatching Last One Out of Beach City if being charmed by friendship is your jam. There’s no reason to watch this episode instead of Buddy’s Book if thematic resonance in regards to false narratives is your jam. There’s no reason to watch this episode instead of any episode of Craig of the Creek if kids playing outside is your jam. Only watch Onion Gang if you’re a glutton for punishment.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Part of me wants to rank this higher than Fusion Cuisine and House Guest, where I find more insulting mischaracterizations. But both of those episodes have enjoyable elements that are weighed down by lousy depictions of Connie and Greg; Garnet’s a riot in the former, and there’s a sweet song in the latter despite being muddled by context. Whereas there are no real bright spots in Onion Gang. It’s an unbearable eleven minutes that I’m never going to watch again.

Sadie’s Song is worse because it’s the worst Steven episode in the series and it misses the mark so much, and it’s important to Sadie’s arc so it’s harder to skip, which makes me resent it more. Island Adventure is worse because its moral is that abuse is a reasonable method of communication. But that’s all that’s stopping Onion Gang from reaching the very bottom.

The good news is that this is it for my No Thanks list, and while I might’ve had a bit of fun dissecting why I dislike Onion Gang so much, it bears saying that 6 stinkers in 180 episodes and a movie ain’t shabby.

Top Twenty

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

When It Rains

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

No Thanks!

     6. Horror Club      5. Fusion Cuisine      4. House Guest      3. Onion Gang      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

[yes-i-would-like-to-be-stabbed]

TDI Part 2 with my OC Kasey.

*Intro plays*

Chris: Okay. Today's challenge is three-fold. Your first task is to jump off this 1,000-foot-high cliff into the lake.

Bridgette: Piece of cake.

Kasey: Oh yeah baby! Cliff Divin’!

*Bridgette and Kasey high five*

Chris: If you look down, you will see two target areas. The wider area represents the part of the lake that we have stocked with psychotic *laughs* man-eating sharks. Inside that area is a safe zone. That's your target area, which, we're pretty sure is shark free.

Leshawna: Excuse me.

Kasey: Can I take my enthusiasm back?

Chris: For each member of your team that jumps and actually survives, there will be a crate of supplies waiting below. Inside each crate are supplies that you'll need for the second part of the challenge... building a hot tub. The team with the best one gets to have a wicked hot-tub party tonight. The losers will be sending someone home. Let's see, Killer Bass, you're up first.

Bridgette: Oh, wow. So, who wants to go first?

Crickets chirp

Owen: Hey, don't sweat it, guys. I heard that these shows always make the interns do the stunt first to make sure it's survivable.

Flashback music starts

Chris: We need to test the stunts first. You know that.

Chef: Do I look like an intern?

Chris: No, but the ones we had are all in the hospital. C'mon, just jump it, you big chicken. *cackles like a chicken*

Chef: I don't get paid enough for this, man. (screaming)

Chef: Hey, I made it. I made it, man, uh. Something just brushed up by my foot. Hey, Chris, man, something ain't right down here. (screaming and runs mid-air as the bongo running noise plays)

Chris: Well, that seems safe enough.

Flashback ends

Eva: So, who's up?

Duncan: Ladies first.

Bridgette: Fine, I'll go. It's no big deal, just an insane cliff dive into a circle of angry sharks.

Bridgette jumps

Tyler: They did it. Yeah! Yeah! I'm next. Cowabunga!

Kasey: Aww what the heck. Cowabunga dude!

They both jump. Kasey lands in the safe zone, Tyler lands on a buoy

Tyler: Oh! Ohhh. Ow.

Bridgette: Ooh.*cringes*

Kasey: Oooohh that was wicked man,

campers start jumping

Geoff: Wooooo! Hahaha!

Eva: Look out below!

Duncan jumps but says nothing

D.J.: Unh-unh. No way, man. I'm not jumping.

Chris: Scared of heights?

D.J.: Yeah, ever since I was a kid.

Chris: That's okay, big guy. Unfortunately, that also makes you a chicken. So you'll have to wear this for the rest of the day.

D.J.: Aw, man. For real?

Chris: Bawk bawk bawk! That means the chicken path down is that-a-way. Next.

Ezekiel: Yee-haw!

He hits a rock and spins before hitting the water as the team cheers.

Harold: Yes. (screams) 

Harold does the splits and lands right on his kiwis

AHH!

Everyone visibly cringes even the sharks as his scream rings throughout the camp

Chris: Oh, hate to see that happen.

Courtney: Excuse me, Chris. I have a medical condition.

Chris: What condition?

Courtney: A condition that prevents me from jumping off cliffs.

Chris: You can chicken out if you want, but it might end up costing your team the win. And then they'll hate you.

Courtney: It's a calculated risk. I've seen the other team, and I don't think nine of them will jump.

Chris: All right, here is your chicken hat. So let's tally up the results. Hold on. That's nine jumpers and two chickens. We're missing one.

Sadie: I'm not jumping without Kadie!

Kadie: We have to be on the same team, Chris.

Both: Please! Please! Can we? Can we, Chris? Can we? Can we?

Izzy: I'll switch places with her.

Chris: All right, fine, you're both on the Killer Bass now. Izzy, you're on the Screaming Gophers.

Kadie and Sadie: Yes!

Chris: That means you're up, girls.

Kadie and Sadie: We're coming, Killer Bass! (screaming)

Chris: Okay, so that's ten jumpers and two chickens. Screaming Gophers, if you can beat that we'll throw in a pull cart to put your crates on.

Trent: Nice. Okay, guys who's up first?

*nobody moves or says anything*

Heather: I'm sorry, there's no way I'm doing this.

Beth: Why not?

Heather: Uh, hello, national TV., I'll get my hair wet.

Gwen: You're kidding, right?

Lindsay: If she's not doing it, I'm not doing it.

Leshawna: Oh you're doing it.

Heather: Says, who?

Leshawna: Says me. I'm not losing this challenge 'cause you got your hair day, you spoiled little daddy's girl.

Everyone recoils and backs up from the fight

Heather: Back off, ghetto-glamour, too-tight-pants-wearing, rap-star wannabe.

Leshawna: Mall-shopping, ponytail-wearing, teen-girl-reading, peeking in high school prom queen!

Heather: Well, at least I'm popular.

Everyone either smiles at the fight or is very concerned, except Justin who looks at himself in the mirror

Leshawna: You're jumping!

Heather: Make me! 

Leshawna grabs her and holds her above her head, then tosses her over the cliff

 Heather: (screaming) Leshawna, you are so dead!

Leshawna: Hey, I threw you into the safe zone, didn't I? Now I just hope I can hit it, too. (screaming)

Lindsay: I thought this was going to be a talent contest.

Chris: (laughs) Yeah. (laughs) No.

The Gophers begin jumping

Lindsay screams

Gwen screams

Cody screams

Izzy laughs ecstatically

Justin jumps

Leshawna: Lookout! Paddle!

Justin is surrounded by sharks, he smiles as angelic music plays and they carry him to shore

Beth: I--I can't do it. I'm too scared. I'm sorry.

Cody and Leshawna cackle like chickens

Lindsay: That is, like, so lame, right?

Heather: Fully lame.

Beth walks away with a chicken hat on

Trent: Let's do this. Yeah! Whoo!

He high fives Owen before jumping

Chris: Okay, campers, there's only one person left. You guys need this jump for the win. No pressure, dude. 

Owen smiles, relaxed

Chris: Okay, there's pressure.

Owen frowns, and tenses

His team cheering for him below

Heather: Jump! Jump! Just do it, Owen. Do it!

Owen: Oh, I was pretty darn nervous.

(static)

Owen: See, the thing is, I'm not that strong a swimmer.

(static)

Geoff: I'm looking at this guy and thinking, "there's no way he's gonna make it."

(static)

Gwen: I actually thought, "if he jumps this... he's gonna die."

(static)

Kasey: Bye Bye Mr. Happy Pants. We hardly knew ye.

(static)

Chris: Take a good run at it, buddy. You can do this.

Owen: I'm going to die now. I'm going to freakin’ die now.

Leshawna: Come on, big guy.

Owen: Yeah! Oh, crap. (screams)

Owen jumps and makes a splash that sends a boat and everyone onto the beach in piles

The camera pans to a shark on a pine tree

Owen: Yes! Yeah! Oh, yeah! Who's the man?

Beth: Woo-hoo-hoo!

Leshawna: Yes.

Chris: The winners, the Screaming Gophers!

Trent: That was awesome, dude. What's wrong?

Owen: I, uh, think I lost my bathing suit.

The campers complain about Owen losing his bathing suit in the water

Team Screaming Gophers sing 99 bottles of pop.

Cut to Killer Bass

Courtney: Ow! I think I just got a splinter.

Eva: Shut up and pick up your crate... (Eva throws down the crate) Chicken.

*Kasey snickers as she walks by with a crate. Courtney glares at her.*

Courtney: Hey I'm the only one with C.I.T. camping experience here, you need me.

D.J. and Eva look at each other. It cuts back to the Screaming Gophers signing 99 Bottles of Pop.

Lindsay lags behind to pick up a seashell, before catching back up with the group.

Tyler carrying a crate.

Tyler: Ugh, I've gotta take a wiz.

Eva: Hurry up. We're already behind.

Kadie: Ooh, I hate to go, too.

Sadie: You do? Oh, my gosh, me, too.

Kasey: Ugh, anyone else?

*she sets down her crate and cracks her back, everyone shakes their head*

Sadie and Kadie follow Tyler into the woods.

Cuts to Courtney killing a fly, resulting in her hitting herself.

Courtney: Ow. I think something just bit me.

Back to the Screaming Gophers singing 99 Bottles of Pop.

Beth: Hey, look, there’s the campground.

Owen: That was pretty easy.

Cody: I'm pleasantly surprised.

Cut back to the Killer Bass

Eva: Feel better?

Kadie: Yup.

Courtney: Can we go now? I think my eye is swelling up.

Kasey: Quit complaining! Let’s go!

Kadie and Sadie start pushing a crate.

Sadie: Ew, something's itching me. Are you itchy, too?

Kadie: Totally itchy. Really bad.

Cut back to the campgrounds

Chris: Remember, you guys can only use your teeth to open the crates. I came up with that one.

*Campers are trying to open the crates with their mouths, Izzy has a rope in her mouth*

Izzy: (growling) Hey, I think I got it open.

The crate pops open.

Izzy: Ow, ow, rope burn on my tongue.

Cut back to Sadie and Kadie.

Sadie: Ooh, it's really itching now.

Kadie: Mine feels like it's burning.

Sadie: Okay, I have to scratch.

Kadie and Sadie both start scratching.

Chris rides over on an ATV

Chris: You guys are way behind the other team. Like, way behind. What's the problem?

Courtney: Their butts are itchy.

Chris turns to Courtney and notices her eye

Chris: Ahh! Oh, my boxers, that's bad.

Bridgette: Did you guys squat down when you peed in the woods?

Kadie: Yeah.

Bridgette: Did you happen to notice what kind of plants you were squatting over?

Sadie: They were kind of oval shaped and green and all over the place.

Bridgette: Were they low to the ground, about this big?

Bridgette makes a shape with her hands.

Kadie and Sadie both nod.

Bridgette: You guys squatted on poison ivy.

Kadie and Sadie: What do we do? Oh, no.

They both start yelling and panicking.

Chris: (laughs) No way. That's awesome. (laughs)

Kasey: Oh man that is soooo bad.

Kadie and Sadie begin to drag their butts across the sand.

Kadie and Sadie: Somebody, help us.

Back to the Screaming Gophers.

Owen: Hey, check it out, I got wood.

Trent: I got some tools here and what looks like a pool liner.

Heather and Lindsay walk over to Leshawna.

Heather: I just wanted to say, I didn't mean bad about you being a ghetto, rap-star wannabe, and I love your earrings. They're so pretty.

Leshawna: Straight up? Well, I'm sorry about pushing you over the cliff and all.

Heather: No worries. I needed a push. Truce?

Leshawna: Yeah, yeah, you got it.

Heather and Leshawna fist bump.

Heather and Lindsay walk away.

Lindsay: Did you mean all that stuff you said to Lefonda back there?

Heather: Leshawna. Hah, no. She's going down. And P.S. those are the ugliest earrings I've seen in my life.

Lindsay: Oh. 

Heather walks past Lindsay as she looks back before walking up to Heather.

Lindsay: So if you hate her why were you being nice to her?

Heather: You ever seen one of these shows before? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Lindsay: Oh. I'm your friend, right?

Heather: Oh, yeah, for now.

Cut to Izzy, Trent, and Noah building the hot tub.

The Killer Bass finally make it to Camp and drop their crates.

Harold: Finally.

Trent: Hey, what's up, guys?

Leshawna: Hey, aren't you missing a couple of white girls?

Cut to Kadie and Sadie with their pants down in the ocean.

Both: (sighing)

Bubbles come up behind Sadie.

Sadie: Oops.

Courtney: They're getting a drink.

Harold: Yeah, if they drink with their butts.

Ezekiel: Haha, that's funny.

Kasey: Haha! Good one! *high fives Harold*

Courtney walks up to Leshawna. Leshawan stares at her eye. Courtney covers her eye.

Leshawna: Ooh, what happened to your eye, girl?

Courtney: Nothing, just an allergy.

Ezekiel: Think it's getting worse.

Courtney: Shut up. We don't want them to know that.

Cut to Geoff on a bunch of crates.

Geoff: Okay, dudes, it's not too late. We can do this.

Cuts to Harold drooling and Ezekiel picking his nose.

Courtney: Ew.

Ezekiel: What?

Bridgette: That's really gross.

Kasey: Yeah dude. What are you? Five?

Courtney: Okay look, guys, we have a hot tub to complete, and we need a project manager, since I've actually been a C.I.T. before, I'm electing myself. Any objections?

Duncan: Where do we begin, Cyclops?

Courtney: Open the crates. Bridgette, go find those itchy girls. We need all the help we can get.

Kasey: Aye Aye, Cap’N One-Eye! *mocks salutes and high fives Duncan, while Courtney huffs*

Cut to Beth and Justin building a hot tub. Then to Harold, Geoff, and Kasey attempting to build a hot tub. Then it collapses. Back to Trent nailing something in. Then, to Duncan and Tyler fighting for a hammer, then it’s launched into Harold's 'family jewels' then gets accidentally attacked by Bridgette with a plank.

Then to The Screaming Gophers filling the hot tub with water. Then to The Killer Bass's terrible hot tub.

Chris begins to examine the two hot tubs.

Chris: This is an awesome hot tub.

The Screaming Gophers cheer.

Chris inspects The Killer Bass's hot tub and gets sprayed in the face. 

The hot tub falls apart and the seagull inside washes away.

Chris: Well, I think we have a winner here... The Screaming Gophers.

Screaming Gophers cheer

Chris: Gophers, you're safe from elimination and you get to rock this awesome hot tub for the rest of the summer. Bonus!

Screaming Gophers cheer

The KIller Bass look down in shame

Chris: Killer Bass, what can I say? Sucks to be you right now. I'll see your sorry butts at the bonfire tonight.

Lindsay: We won! We all get to stay here for another three days!

Heather, Beth, and Lindsay: Oh, yeah. Woo-hoo-hoo.

Owen hops out of the hot tub naked and dances.

Owen: Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo! Ha ha ha. Yes! We get to stay. We get to stay, we are so awesome. We won the contest.

Owen grabs and hugs Heather and Lindsay. Heather is disgusted and Lindsay is smiling.

Main Lodge.

Kadie: So--uh--what do we do now?

Courtney: We have to figure out who we're gonna vote off.

Duncan: Well, I think it should be the princess or the brick house here.

Courtney: What? Why?

Duncan: Because, unless I'm mistaken, you two are the only ones here wearing chicken hats and if we ever have to lift a truck, I like our odds with the big guy.

Courtney: You guys need me. I'm the only one--

Bridgette: We know, who used to be a real C.I.T. so would you pick?

Courtney: What about him?

She points to Tyler and Lindsay stands up.

Lindsay: No! I mean no salt, there's no salt on the table, bummer.

Duncan: Hey, hey, at least he jumped off the cliff, chicken wing.

Courtney: Shut up.

Geoff: Okay, let's just chill out. This is getting way too heavy.

Duncan: I've had enough prison food for one day. I'm gonna go take a nap.

Courtney: You can't do that. We haven't decided who's going yet.

Ezekiel: Well, I just don't get why we lost, eh? They're the ones that have six girls.

Sadie and Kadie: (gasp)

Bridgette: What's that supposed to mean?

Kasey: What did you say, punk? And if I’m not mistaken there are six girls here too.

Eva: Yeah, home school, enlighten us.

Eva, Bridgette, and Kasey surround him with angry expressions.

Ezekiel: Well, guys are much stronger and better at sports than girls are.

Geoff: Oh snap, you did not just say that.

Ezekiel: My dad told me to look out for the girls here, eh? And help them in case they can't keep up.

Eva grabs him and holds him up by his neck.

Eva: Still think we need your help keeping up?

Ezekiel: *choking* Uh, not really.

Geoff: Okay, guys, let's give him a break. I mean, at least he doesn't think that guys are smarter than girls.

Ezekiel: But they are.

Elimination ceremony

All the girls are glaring at Ezekiel.

Duncan: Dude, you've got a lot to learn about the real world.

Chris: Killer bass, at camp marshmallows represent a tasty treat that you enjoy roasting by the fire. At this camp marshmallows represent life.

Geoff flexes for Bridgette. Bridgette and Kasey giggle.

Chris: You've all cast your votes and made your decision. There are only ten marshmallows on this plate. When I call your name come up and claim your marshmallow. The camper who does not receive a marshmallow tonight must immediately return to the dock of shame to catch the boat of losers. That means you're out of the contest and you can't come back... Ever. The first marshmallow goes to... Geoff. Tyler.

Tyler: Woo-hoo-hoo! Yeah! Place at the table.

Chris: Kadie. Bridgette. D.J.. Harold. Kasey.

Harold: Yes.

Chris: Sadie.

Sadie: Oh, yay. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Chris: Duncan. Campers, this is the final marshmallow of the evening.

(Huge dramatic pause)

Chris: Courtney.

Courtney: (sighs)

Chris: Can't say I'm shocked. I saw you picking your nose, dude. Not cool. Dock of shame is that way, bro.

Ezekiel walks down the dock and leaves f o r e v e r.

 Chris: The rest of you, enjoy your marshmallows. You're all safe for tonight.

(static)

Gwen: Yep, this camp pretty much still sucks. But now that I'm here I guess I might as well actually try to win.

(static)

Kasey: That Ezekiel got what was coming to him.That no good, misogynistic-

(static)

The camera pans to the Screaming Gophers in their hot tub.

Cody: To the Screaming Gophers.

Team: To the Screaming Gophers.

Leshawna: Go gophers, go gophers.

Noah, Leshawna, and Owen: Go gophers, go gophers. Go gophers, go gophers, go, go, go gophers.

Courtney: Are you recording this? Good. They can enjoy their little part all they want, but I am gonna win this competition and no one is gonna stop me.

Kasey: Uh Courtney? You know I can hear you right?

Courtney jumps and looks startled. Courtney looks sheepish as Kasey raises an eyebrow.

[ashleigh-luvs-14cats]

A Rencounter Fic

OMG I MADE A 2ND CHAPTER!!! And in short amount of time (not really but short enough)!! This one is really special cuz @ice-cream-kitsunegirl and I work together on this one. She made an amazing intro (in my personal opinion). Once again both of our Ocs are here, I have her permission to use her character, I hope you will like it and please check out her blog if you like bnha x readers fics, I recommend reading her stuff. (She has more experience in writing than I do. XD)

Summary: Ashlen and Amy have been friends online for three months but never knew each other's real names or faces. They are from different countries but feel as if they are very close to one another. Ashlen is on an exchange program to UA High School to Class 1-A for a year. One year away from home in the U.S, will she get along with her new classmates? Why does one of them sound familiar?

Chapter 2: A Sense of Change

Meanwhile at UA…

“WHOO-HOO~!”

Amy whooped as she flew her broomstick up in the air, high enough to run a hand through the clouds, the same place where her head was as she grinned at the bright moonlight. It was the perfect amount of light that she would need to charge her gemstones for when she got down. She looked down to see their brightness…

She wasn’t alone though, she had her dear friend Shinsou riding with her on her broomstick, and he wasn’t crazy about how high they were. They were a little too high near the clouds, he knew that Amy was an adrenaline junkie, but how did he let her convince him to do crazy shit like this?

‘It’s like riding a bike she said… it will be fun she said…’ He thought to himself in dread, but he refused to show that he might have been just a little bit scared of falling since this relied purely on her telekinesis to let her fly.

“Hitoshi! We’re so freakin’ high! I’ve officially gotten better with my telekinesis, and now I can fly this thing anytime I want! Haha~! I want to get away, I wanna fllyyyyy away~.” She started singing as she floated about and let the wind blow in her face.

“You shouldn’t sing while we’re up here… you need to focus, so your telekinesis doesn’t break… Let’s just get back to the ground… I don’t think I really like fly-“ Shinsou nearly screamed when she suddenly descended, and he held on tightly to this broomstick as she whooped yet again, swerving a circle around the Heights Alliance building and potentially disturbing some of the other Class 1-A students with the heavy wind blowing through the windows from her fast flying..

As soon as she reached the ground, Shinsou was happy to be back on his feet where he wouldn’t fall to his death. “HA! Never gets old…” Amy laughed cheerfully as she got down off her broomstick, secretly amusing Shinsou despite what his expression indicated. “You’re setting witches back a hundred years by flying on a broomstick, do you know that?” He asked her sarcastically as she laughed a little bit, “Yeah, but it’s fun~. Now watch this! The moonlight is perfect for my gems~.” Amy sang-songed as she cheerfully went over to the gems she had collected to charge up for the perfect night.

They were gleaming, provided by the brightness of the moonlight that shined upon them, Amy stared at them in awe as she started to sing the incantation.

“Crystal, Gleam and Glow

Let your power return

The full moon shine so bright

Return your state of might.”

A low humming radiated from the glowing gemstones, and Amy’s grin grew and looked somewhat crazy from Shinsou’s point of view as she did her best to not let out a dramatic cackle, and instead just giggled happily. “AH! I can’t wait to utilize their power for later~ I’m just mad about gemstones.” She said excitedly, which Shinsou secretly found endearing. Even if he didn’t know why he was out here in the first place.

“Why am I out here again?” He asked in the most deadpan tone she had heard yet, and he wasn’t surprised to see Amy’s trademark smirk.

“Duh, Mr. Aizawa trusts you the most with me, I need you to back me up if I get in trouble, and on top of that… I need to make up being away from you for 4 years… do you know how sad I was without you?”

Amy explained, her smirk turning into a more somber smile, “But you had the other witches. You certainly think highly of them… a lot more than the other girls here, that’s for sure.”

It was true. Amy often mentioned her sisters from the coven at Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Girls at New Orleans to her friends and classmates. Her sisters were young witches that had been made public not long ago but were an independent heroine group that followed their own rules thanks to Amy’s Supreme Cordelia Goode demonstrating a heroic attitude despite the witches’ controversial, and some say questionable hero methods. Amy’s dear friends Zoe Benson, Queenie and Mallory lived there, and she missed them terribly, but frequently spoke to them online, along with a new friend she had made in the states. And sometimes she would stay up till the dead of the night talking to them, which had lately been forcing Bakugou to make her ‘go the fuck to bed.’

“I do… I mean the girls here are great… but… my sisters are… pretty badass.” Amy chuckled a little bit, but Shinsou couldn’t help but rolls his eyes. “Yeah, we hear you go on and on about how great they are… Except for Madison… nobody can stand her, I really can’t stand her.” Shinsou reminded her but made sure to remark on his intense dislike for Madison Montgomery, the bitchiest witch who had been ‘taking care of you’ and shadowing a very reluctant Aizawa on Cordelia’s request on most days. But nobody, not even sweet Izuku, Kirishima or Uraraka liked her.

Amy couldn’t help but giggle. Madison was more of her frenemy than anything, compared to Misty, Mallory, Zoey, and Queenie, but Madison was a hedonist who looked out mainly for herself and most definitely NOT a hero. Although, Madison did care about Amy, given that she took her on a wild bender after Bakugou was rescued and was being kind of a distant asshole afterward.

That proved that Madison DID care about her and had a heart underneath the stone-cold bitchiness. “Hee-hee, Madison’s a bitch. But… I can handle her. I mean… look at who I’m dating.” Amy shrugged a little bit and laughed, not fully noticing the look of annoyance on Shinsou’s face.

“But… as much as I talk about how great my sisters are… they aren’t you Hitoshi… they made me feel less lonely… but they couldn’t replace you at all…” She said softly with a warm smile at her childhood friend, who didn’t seem to expect that as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, willing himself to not blush.

“So sentimental…” He muttered a little bit in slight embarrassment as Amy giggled a little bit, unable to stop herself from hugging his arm affectionately as he sighed heavily in mild annoyance. Although, Amy’s hold loosened a little bit as her brown eyes widened ever so slightly, pausing momentarily as she stared upwards into the distance and looked around.

There was nothing in the area, but her senses were tingling and telling her something that she couldn’t really say. Yet, she felt nothing bad, which was surprising to her since one of Amy’s gifts allowed her to sense bad juju and of bad things yet to come. So naturally, Amy learned to be cautious, even if she wasn’t sensing the usual bad juju…

Which was a little bit alarming to her. She’d been used to bad juju, and for some reason, it seemed to be naturally drawn to her wherever she wants, whether it was at Robichaux or UA. She recalled many times she felt it, such as the attack on Robichaux, the Witch Hunters, the Axeman’s attack, the USJ incident, the Hero Killer’s attack at Hosu, to the Summer Field Training trip. All bad incidents, so why was this so different?

Amy wondered what this could have meant. Whatever it was, it was lingering in the atmosphere, and Amy was growing more curious about it by the minute.

As she thought to herself, Shinsou knew that the witch must have sensed something when she was uncharacteristically quiet, so he could tell she must have sensed something, “What is it, Amy? Is something the matter?” He asked her, a hint of concern in his tone as Amy chuckled and shook her head.

“Nothing really… I thought I sensed something but… now it’s gone… it’s nothing.” She replied with a smile and decided to quickly change the subject somehow.

Ding!

“Oh! Hello~. Wonder who that could be~?” Thankfully, one of your friends messaged you, which was the perfect distraction from the weirdness you felt.

Ally-luvs-14cats: Hi! What's up Ice cream!?

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: Oh hey girl! Just flyin’ about with my buddy. Almost died lol

Ally-luvs-14cats: Which one? The Zombie one or the Explodo boi?  

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: HA. I haven’t killed Explodo Boi YET. But I’m with my dear Zombie Boy.

Shinsou looked over Amy's shoulder, "Who are you talking to? And who are you calling Zombie boy?"

Amy nearly jumped, and she flashed him a nervous, toothy grin, “Just a friend… Zombie Boy? No…” She laughed very nervously, “Nobody… definitely not you… I don’t think your zombie-like features make you look like a zombie…” She said, not convincingly at all as she tried to wave it off.

Ally-luvs-14cats: XD i bet he pissed his pants!

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: XD LOL I dunno. Maybe. I didn’t check my broom lolol

Ally-luvs-14cats: you better. Wouldnt want a nasty ride XD

"Who are they? Are they your friends from the coven?" Shinso asked, with a face of annoyance from the 'pissed' comment.

“Hee-hee… not this time… Madison probably would’ve said something like that. But no, this is my bud from the States... She ain’t a coven girl, well… that I know of,  but she’s definitely a friend…” She clarified, for once not saying anything really snarky since she had grown to like this girl, she was pretty cool. A LOT cooler than Madison that’s for sure, the witch Amy was stuck with.

"You know, you really shouldn't be buddy-buddy with people online. They could be a creepy old man from Japan." He warned, he heard creepy tales of how disgusting villains kidnap kids over the internet.

Amy almost chuckled, but Shinsou’s concern touched her. “Hitoshi… I’ve already killed two creepy old men back at New Orleans. I can easily kill another. I’m good at killing creepy old men… I LIKE killing creepy old men.” She smiled a little too wide, intentionally making herself look a bit bloodthirsty, which… she kind of was. “But seriously… I trust this person. Everything I’ve read from her doesn’t strike me as suspicious. No bad juju from her.” This time, that was a bit more reassuring since this girl so far didn’t give Amy any bad vibes. "And besides, we haven't said our real names and where exactly we live, just our countries."

Ally-luvs-14cats: ugh my morning was rough XC

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: uh-oh. O.O What’s the T Christine? What happened?

Ally-luvs-14cats: let’s just say i got my ass kicked by one of my older sisters...mannn i thought today was the day im going to win! 😗

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: Eh?! You didn’t win?! Awwww man… well hey, you can do it next time! This time strike when she least expects it! Go all ‘Surprise Bitch!’ on her! Works every time! 😆

Ally-luvs-14cats: XD if only that were easy. I totally went all out! Even used my special move. But she's just too dang good.. unfortunately the next time will be in a year though…

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: DAYUM! >.< That’s almost like when I didn’t pass the Seven Wonders… I mean, most witches usually die when they don’t pass but I just couldn’t do any Divination… I feel your pain though girl… :/ I can’t beat Madison… that bitch is cray-cray… but hey, you can try again next year at least! ;)

"She only knows that you're a witch?" Shinsou asked as they approach Amy's dorm room.

Amy tried not to look so obvious, but that was just in her nature unless she was trying to manipulate someone. “Yup… that’s… that’s all she knows… she definitely doesn’t know all my friends’ names… just the girls from the coven…” She muttered, not being discreet at all. But… Amy was a risk-taker by nature, it was something she needed to seriously work on.

Ally-luvs-14cats: Also I got some news! Like a future warning...

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: Oh? Future warning eh? I wanna hear that T.

Ally-luvs-14cats: pfft..anyways yea im going to be M.I.A. im going to be moving sooo i wont be able to talk to you for a few days...ill be moving to a new country annnd guess where it will be!?

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: AWWW! >.< Booo! Oh well… will miss u gurl~. Have fun with moving! Aaaaaaaaand… France? Canada? New Orleans~? … Norway?

Ally-luvs-14cats: PFFT! New Orleans isnt a country! XD Also none of those are correct btw..

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: XD Yeah but New Orleans is AWESOME!! Aaaand… Taiwan? … London? Paris? Maybe Tokyo?

Ally-luvs-14cats: Ding Ding! It is JAPAN!~

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: O.O JAPAN?! HEY THAT’S WHERE I’M AT! GIIIIIRL~.

Ally-luvs-14cats: YEA! ill be going to this like fancy school for an exchange student program...ugh i hope this school wont be filled with snobs like the ones here..¬_¬

Ice-cream-FoxGirl:  UGH Tell me about it… I love the lot I’m stuck with, but Robichaux had cooler ladies. Now the guys here though… ;) Ooh la la girl… you’d love the guys here…… I’m licking my lips as we speak~

Ally-luvs-14cats: >u< oh my gosh! Lol! Man i hope soo...i do have a thing for Asian boys..

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: They are only some of the most beautiful men on the planet~. And these guys sure are… I have a picture of this dude I’m dating, took it when he wasn’t aware of it at the pool. Among other photos he doesn’t know I secretly have of him~. Including one of him while he was sleeping... XD

"Is that so? Amy.." A voice came up behind her and almost came out as a growl.

“AHHH!!” Amy’s eyes widened, she managed to read her most recent message, but her furious boyfriend had kind of distracted her as she jumped and screamed when he was getting too close and in a snap, she teleported at least 5 feet away to text as quickly as she could.

Ally-luvs-14cats: XD Well i gttg..I need some breakfast after that defeat..and who knows maybe we'll see other. So bye!

Ice-cream-FoxGirl: Great! Talk to u later! Can’t wait to see you! I’ll show u pics when u do! Girl bai!! I’m gonna try and not die now XD :3

Ally-luvs-14cats: Oops someone found out something XD sorry but...you are on your own!

                                    Ally-luvs-14cats had left the chat!

"AMY! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

Not many things scared Amy and not even Bakugou, but his rage was enough to raise the hairs on her back as she took off running. “No! Go drink some tea or something and ‘leaf’ me alone~!” If she was going to die, she was going to go out on a really lame pun.

Shinsou couldn’t really do anything except watch his best friend and her dumb boyfriend chase each other. He probably should have stopped Bakugou with his quirk, but… Amy wouldn’t learn anything if he did. That’s what he told himself at least.

That’s what she gets for the piss comment…

[hongjoongssailor]

Happy Valentine’s Day!

To my favorite people: (If you have a heart next to your name, there’s a special note for you! ❤️)

@parkjiminsgf ❤️

@qtyoong ❤️

@emotual ❤️

@jksbun ❤️

@oroare ❤️

@blondejinismyreligion ❤️

@sugadrop

@kinktae

@vhopesbootycall ❤️

@minsbutt

@equigay

To my favorite K-POP babes:

From BTS:

Kim Namjoon

Kim Seokjin

Min Yoongi

Jung Hoseok

Park Jimin

Kim Taehyung

Jeon Jungkook

From ATEEZ:

Kim Hongjoong

Park Seonghwa

Jeong Yunho

Kang Yeosang

Choi San

Song Mingi

Jung Wooyoung

Choi Jongho

@parkjiminsgf: oh my god where do I fucking start. well Morgan, I can start off by saying Happy Valentine’s Day you beautiful woman. it’s almost been.. 8 months since we started our Snapchat streak, and we’ve been best friends for about 9 months if I remember. (wow we’ve been best friends for a whole pregnancy term!) you are super duper fucking special to me because you’ve always been there for me, and always stuck by me no matter what. you’ve been there through my happy times, my sad times, my angry times, and still haven’t left me. you always know how to make me smile when I’m sad and I always know how to make you smile when you’re sad. we have such a strong connection with each other, even though we’re in two different states right now. you mean a lot to me, and without you I don’t think I would have survived life at all. thank you for being my best friend. thank you for being the jimin to my hobi. we are exactly like those two! thank you for all the stuff you gave me, even though i didn’t deserve it. i love you so much morgan, words can’t even describe it. Happy Valentine’s Day!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

@qtyoong: hey. hey you. yeah you there. Happy Valentine’s Day lea!! you’re my sunshine buddy for life and I’m so glad you’re my friend! hopefully as the days go by we will get to know each other even better than before. I hope today is good to you! 💛💛

@emotual: ASH!!!!!! First off, I want to say congrats on becoming an RN! That’s so exciting and I’m very proud of you. You’re such a sweet human being, and you’re so hot? Hot sauce can’t even compare to you! (I mean that in a platonic way because it’s true and I’ll fight you if you disagree.) We don’t talk very much, however when we do it’s always an adventure. I hope you get really far and successful in your life! I believe in you. Happy Valentine’s Day love! 💗💗💗💗💗

@jksbun: HEY YOU. YEAH YOU. YOU BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEAN. I miss you a lot! I hope life is treating you well, and that you get to succeed in life as you dreamed of. We need to talk a lot more often when you return because hoo boy we gonna go jungkook hours on you. Happy Valentine’s Day ❣️❣️

@oroare: oh my god dUDE I miss you so much. I hope everything is going super duper well for you and I’m so glad I get to tag you in BTS and ATEEZ content because they’re great and you’re great. Happy Valentine’s Day bby 💓💓.

@blondejinismyreligion: CAT!!!! Hi! We’ve been mutuals for a while, and you’re actually the first mutual I’ve ever made since I turned into a BTS blog three years ago. I was jungshook when I saw how pretty you are and I couldn’t help my shy ass and told you how pretty you are. Even though we don’t talk much, I hope you’re doing well in your life and that Jin is giving you many many many many blessings! Happy Valentine’s Day 💞💞.

@vhopesbootycall: hey slut. Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you like the BTS Valentine’s I’ve sent you today and I hope they made you smile. We already have 278 day streak on Snapchat and it’s gonna keep on going! We gotta teach a year. Thank you for being my friend, and being vhope with me. 💖💖

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Rescue Mission” - Part 1

“Rescue Mission” - Part 1

My Main Masterlist - Here

My Marvel Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Frank Castle x Reader

Matthew Murdock x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2,886

Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Violence, Language, I think that’s it. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: You’re one of the vigilantes that run through New York trying to make it a better place. You’re also dating the “dead” Frank Castle. Everything is manageable until you run into Daredevil and find out that he’s your brother, Matthew. Then shit hits the fan more than usual in Hell’s Kitchen.

Author’s Note: So I have this idea where I want to just have a sort of universe where the Hell's Kitchen boys and a vigilante reader are all together. For instance, my previous Frank piece “Care” would be a part of this universe. Not exactly sure about the timeline yet, but when I do, I will make a post about it.

For now, this is is going to be a series because my idea will take at least 3 parts probably. So once I get all my ducks in a line, I will update you guys with the order of this universe.

Huge shoutout to @witchymarvelspacecase for always being there for me when I have random ideas or whenever I need someone to read my work! She’s truly one of the coolest people I’ve had the pleasure of talking to! 

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

Even though your brother Matthew, had gone to law school and moved on to open up his firm with his college buddy, Foggy, he was a real idiot sometimes.

You had and found out about his second life as Daredevil, pretty quickly. You’d had your suspicions when the Devil intervened during a job of yours about a year ago, making you give up a douchebag to the cops instead of taking him out yourself. But it wasn’t until a month ago that you were sure it was him.

You had gone over to his place to check up on him after a particularly tough case that he and Foggy had been working on. You brought over a lot of food that he could easily reheat in his apartment, or at the office so he wouldn’t unintentionally overwork and starve himself. When you knocked on the door and heard no response, you decided to let yourself in with the spare key you he’d given you. After confirming that he wasn’t in the apartment, and putting the food in his fridge, you decided to play detective and snoop around. You were his little sister, of course you liked to look through his stuff. Through that investigation, you found the suit, baton, and horned helmet. Weirdly they were in a trunk underneath some of your dad’s old boxing stuff. You didn’t even know he had your dad’s old stuff.

You really couldn’t be mad at him for keeping that part of himself a secret from you. Afterall, he had no idea about Cerberus or the fact that you were dating one of the people that he he hated, Frank Castle.

It was a normal night that night. You did your rounds and successfully avoided Red or any of the other vigilantes that you’d been reading about in the papers. You didn’t know if you could deal with more superhero-esque drama in your life. Turning your attention to the street that you loomed over, you saw a bar, a convenience store, and a bank. Nothing seemed out of place, but something inside of you could tell that something wasn’t right.

You kept a close eye on the block for the next 15 minutes. A tall blonde woman came out of the bar with two men. Nothing bad, just some friends out for drinks. It was then that you realized you were watching Josie’s Bar and that the group that just walked out was Karen, Foggy, and Matt. Karen and Foggy were talking and you saw Matt staring off, his head cocked up a bit, as if to listen to the sky. Foggy then put a hand on Matt’s shoulder breaking his train of thought. The two men walking off in the way of Matt’s apartment, Karen walked in the direction of hers. You decided to follow her.

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Karen could attempt to protect herself if someone tried to jump her, but if there was more than one attacker, you feared for her. And when you lost sight of her in a small alleyway, you to jumped into action.

You quietly landed on a fire escape in the alley, getting a clearer view of Karen. She had the pepper spray you’d gotten her a few months ago in hand. Good girl, Karen.

“Hey, lady. Why don’t you come on over here and we can have some fun.” Some creep tried to get Karen’s attention, but she ignored him and kept walking, her grip tightening on the pepper spray. Her grip becoming tighter still when another man stepped in front of her.

“Hey. My buddy over there was talkin’ to yous.” Karen stood her ground and tried her best not to look scared. “It's very rude to not answer someone when theys is talkin’ to yous.”

Not moving an inch, Karen took a breath.

“Just let me through.” She couldn’t see it, but another two men came up the alley behind her. You stealthily slunk down the fire escape until you were hidden in the shadows behind the men.

“Hoo-hoo… Looks like we best teach this bitch some manners. Ain’t that right boys?” The second man gestured to the other three that were surrounding Karen. She was too frozen to move.

Time to make my entrance, I guess.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” You made your voice deeper, not only to sound more menacing, but to also attempt to keep your true identity a secret from Karen.

“Who the hell are yo-” one of them men start to ask. But then you see the familiar baton wrapped around his neck followed by an equally familiar voice.

“Karen. Get out of here.” She nodded and ran off, probably to her place.

You didn’t waste any time before fighting the two assholes closest to you. They came at you at the same time, brandishing knives. With one swift motion, you brought out your claws and started dodging attacks. You jumped behind one of the idiots and kicked him into the trash bags and brick wall to your right, making it, at least temporarily, a one-on-one fight.

You jumped over the second man as he lunged at you, scratching your claws down his back as you landed. His scream of pain was music to your ears but a warning to Daredevil. You pulled your pistol from your leg holster and got ready to put a bullet in the back of the man’s head. But of course, Daredevil didn’t like that. His baton snapped at your wrist, sending a wave of pain through your arm. You looked to your side as the baton retracted back to its owner.

“What the fuck?!”

“No killing” was all he said before he landed a knockout blow to his opponent’s skull.

All you could do was scoff before your attacker got back to his feet and swung at you. You just slipped out of the way, and socked him in the back of the head, causing him to crumble to the ground. But as the idiot fell, his knife grazed your side, leaving a sizeable cut. It wasn’t deep or deadly, but it still stung like a bitch.

You looked behind you to see that the first guy you’d taken care of was still knocked out from smashing into the brick earlier. Facing Daredevil again, you saw him land his final punch as well. He wasted no time and stormed over to you.

“Why were you following her?”

“I was just--”

“What do you want with her?”

“If you would just--”

“Who are you?!”

“Would you let me get one fucking word in, Matthew?!” Everything went silent after you said that. You were careful to not say it loudly incase anyone else heard, you’d just whispered it, but it had been loud enough for him to hear you. No use in altering your voice now. You pulled your mask down and took a breath before speaking in your normal voice so it was easier for Matthew to understand you.

“I won’t use your real name again. I just needed to get you to shut the fuck up.” He was quiet. You couldn’t get a clear read on how he was feeling. He’d just found out that his own sister was a vigilante. You turned to pick up your pistol that he’d knocked out of your grasp earlier as you spoke. “I know you probably have a lot of questions. Just let me--”

“Who else knows?”

You paused. That wasn’t the question you expected.

“About you? Or about me?

“You.”

“Two people.”

“Who? And why was I not a part of the group that knew before now?”

“My ex and my boyfriend both know. I didn’t tell you, because I knew how you’d react: by telling me to not do this, that it's ‘too dangerous’, and then go on and on about things I’d already considered before taking up this gig.” Matt scoffed and adjusted his stance, crossing his arms, clearly upset.

“First of all, we are going to have to discuss this ‘boyfriend’ when we go back to our normal lives. Second, why does your ex know?” You looked down on the ground, knowing how bad your brother was going to react to the fact that your ex was one of your victims.

“Well… Cerberus may or may not have visited him about 8 months ago and--” You saw him lean his head back to the sky and let out an aggravated sigh. He rubbed his hand down the lower half of his face and he turned back in your direction.

“(Y/N/N). You didn’t.”

“You’re partially right.” You moved towards a large steel commercial trash can and sat on top of it. “I didn’t do anything.” You paused. Matthew looked at you and tilted his head, knowing you had more to say. “But Cerberus may or may not have been the one to put a bullet in his head.”

“Jesus, (Y/N)...”

“Wow. Not very Catholic of you to use His name in vain--”

“This is not the time for jokes, (Y/N). What you’re doing is going to catch up to you and bite you in the ass. You--”

“Oh, like you’re safe from all of the consequences?!” You couldn’t help but get angry at him; he had no right to be this hypocritical. “You’ve been doing this longer than I have. You have much more on the line if and when they find out who you really are. What the fuck is gonna happen when Karen and Foggy find out? You ever think about that?”

Matthew lowered his gaze a bit and started to speak, but you could tell what he was about to say just from his demeanor.

“About that. They--”

“Oh my god… They already know, don’t they?” You started at your brother with a look of pure hurt and anger that he couldn’t see but he could sense.

“Look, I just--”

You hopped off the lid of the garbage can and started to walk back towards the fire escape you’d climbed down earlier, pulling your mask back up as you did.

“(Y/N/N), wait. I--”

“No. I am not going to sit here and listen to a story about how my brother fucking told his co-workers about his double life before he told his own fuckin’ sister. I’m not going talk to you out in the open about things that should only be discussed behind locked doors.” You took a deep breath to try to regain some composure. “I’ll come by your place tomorrow and we can talk then and there.”

You turned and climbed up the first set of ladders before you stopped and looked back to Matthew. You prepared for the backlash you were gonna get for saying the next bit.

“Also, I’m doing a pretty fuckin’ good job at keeping my identity a secret thanks to my boyfriend. Frank really knows his shit when it comes to stuff like this.”

And with that, you’re back across the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen, heading home in a wave of anger. Matthew called the NYPD about the thugs in the alley before he headed home.

What neither of you saw or heard was the man hiding at the end of the alley with a camera. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. With his thick Australian accent, he spoke quietly.

“I may have just found a way to get to the Frank Castle and the Daredevil...”

~~~~~~~~

Thankfully you had the day off from work the next day. Not only did you have to play it safe cause of the bandages wrapped around your torso from the knife slice, but you also had a wrist brace on thanks to Matthew’s stupid fucking baton.

Matthew.

You’d told him you would head over and talk that night. But first, you were trying to enjoy your day off,  getting ready for lunch with a girl friend of yours. As you were getting your purse together, Frank walked through the door.

“Sweetheart?” he called through apartment, he sounded like he was in one piece, thank god.

“I’m in here,” you called back. Moments later you saw him in the doorway of your bedroom, he was looking good. Even though it seemed like he always had a bruise or a cut somewhere, he was Frank and he was alive. That’s all you could ask for.

“Where you off to today?”

“I’m meeting Allie at that cafe off of 52nd and 9th. We’ve both been so busy, and have been meaning to catch up for a few weeks now.” Frank just nodded and looked as if he was thinking. “I also won’t be here for dinner. Some shit hit the fan, and I gotta go talk to my brother tonight.”

Frank knew your brother was Matthew Murdock, but he didn’t know that he was also Daredevil (or Red as he liked to call him.) So hearing that you had to go to a lawyer, even if he was family, put him on edge.

“What do you mean ‘shit hit the fan’?” You walked towards him and took his hand.

“It’s just... family stuff. Can’t really go into specifics right now.” You gave his hand a light squeeze and then checked your watch. “Oh shit. I’m gonna be late if I don’t head out now.” You turned back and grabbed your purse.

“You’re comin’ home after dinner though, right?” You walked up to him and put a soft hand over his cheek, looking him dead in the eye.

“That’s the plan.” You smiled at him and saw him smile back. It wasn’t a big, goofy smile like yours, just a small side smirk, but you were the only person who could get any sort of smile out of him; it made you feel special. Frank leaned down and kissed you before walking you to the front door.

“Keep me updated, yeah?”

Frank would never admit it, but he did worry about you whenever you weren’t with him, even more so when he knew you were walking around the city alone. Yeah, you’re Cerberus, but when you didn’t have your claws or anything, you could be vulnerable too.

“Will do. Love ya’!”

And with that, you were off.

~~~~~~~~

Lunch was exactly what you’d needed. Allie was one of those friends that made other troubles seem to drift away for some time. Your lunch ended up being lunch and a walk around the park. It was a much needed escape.

You walked with Allie back to her place and then started walking to Matthew’s. If he wasn’t there, you would just start cooking something for dinner there. You’d gotten about halfway there and decided to text both of the boys. Frank first, since he was probably more worried than Matt.

(Y/N) - “Hey, babe. Lunch w/ Allie went great. Heading to Matt’s now. No stalking. Be careful tonight. Love you.”

Then you sent a quick “On my way” to Matthew, knowing his phone would read the message out loud to him when he opened it.

It was still light outside while you were walking, so it seemed safe enough to take a shortcut through an alleyway. You had gone through it multiple times in the past and ended up okay. But apparently it was a week of unusual occurrences.

You heard someone large come up behind you. Your instincts kicked in and you quickly slid to the side as a metal baseball bat wooshed by next to you, making a metallic clang as it smashed into the cement. Turning and staring at the man, you tried to remember if you had ever seen him before.

He was a six foot tall, muscular man with a scar running down his cheek and neck. His jet black hair was slicked back, and he wore a typical white collar, New Yorker outfit. But you had never interacted with him. So why the fuck was he swinging a metal baseball bat at you?

The man didn’t hesitate to swing at you again, and again, getting more and more angry as you dodged each attempt. You didn’t have any of your usual weapons with you, and your wrist was in a brace, but you fought as best you could.

One of this swings hit a metal pipe along the alley wall, causing an unpleasant vibration to go through the metal bat and into his hand. The man dropped the bat and recoiled, giving you a chance. You quickly picked up the bat and got a few good whacks at him. One in the gut and one in the middle of his back.

“Fucking bitch!” the man growled as he grabbed your ankle and pulled, causing you to land flat on your back.

The wind was knocked out of you, and you didn’t have enough time to get up before a meaty fist smashed into the left side of your face, and a knee was forced into your stomach. Your ears were ringing too much to hear what the douchebag was saying. All you could see was a cloth getting closer and closer to covering your airways. As he put a cell phone to his ear, you blacked out.

“I got her, boss. 47th and 9th.”

Tags: @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98