#even made a timeline for it once in a timeline app on my phone

[station-118]

I’ve always gone by S1 & S2 happens in the same year.

With the pilot being very early January because we don’t see any mention of Christmas in the first three episodes at all. Chimney comes back to work after the rebar the day before Valentine’s Day (which is S1E6, only 2 episode after the episode he was injured) and he was said to be out for at least a month putting the third episode solidly very early January!

Which also means Abby’s mom’s birthday is not in December since it happens in S1E4 the episode Chimney gets injured.

In the second episode Buck says he’s been on the job for like 4ish months. And last season they mention how Buck’s been a firefighter for 7 years (the amount of time the shows been running for)

They’re really bad at telling us how much time passes within each episode and between episodes. We get a little context when we see the characters on shift one scene, then next scene they’re off shift at home w/ family, and then the scene after they’re back on shift (suggesting at least a day or more has passed within the episode). But they never tell us how much time passes between those scenes. So I’m not sure when exactly the last episode of S1 takes place. It could have been sometime in March/April, or it could have been sometime in June or July.

We also have the fact that several episodes in S1 all take place immediately after the other. E3 takes place immediately after E2 with May’s suicide attempt being show at the end of 2 and her being taken to the hospital at the beginning of E3. And E5 happening almost immediately after E4’s events with E4 ending with Abby’s mom disappearing late at night/early in the morning (while it was still dark outside) and E5 showing Buck helping Abby look for her during the day after he gets off shift. And E8 happens pretty closely (maybe a few days to a week or so later) after E7 since Hen cheated in E7 and speaks to Athena about it in E8 and E8 is also when Karen finds out from Ava sending them custody papers.

I also wanna say S1E7 the full moon episode happens in March. Mostly because I googled when there was full moons in 2018 and got, January 2, January 31, March 2, March 31, April 30 and so on. Given we know E6 takes place on Valentine’s Day that would suggest (if we go with when the full moon happened in the real world) E7 happened on March 2!

In S2E1 they mention a heat wave suggesting it’s still summer (whether that’s middle or late summer is up in the air). But they do mention it’s been a couple months (and only months, they do not say it’s been a year or more, just a couple months) since Abby left (end of the last episode of S1) I’ve usually just said it was sometime late August maybe early September or even potentially late September going into October given my next point,

S2E7 is the Halloween episode which would be the end of October. With the first 3 episodes of S2 taking place all (save for the beginning of the first episode which takes place over at least three separate shifts {Eddie’s first shift, the next shift where Buck and Eddie bond over a grenade, and the last shift shown when the Earthquake happens}) within the same day. With E2-3 being the 2 part Earthquake episode. So we only have 3 episodes of time between the events of the first 3 episodes of the season and the Halloween special. Which is not a lot of time.

Also slight side note. Chim runs into Tatiana again in S2E4 (so late September early October ish) and she’s heavily pregnant. Given this timeline (with their breakup being early January) the baby def wouldn’t have been able to be Chim’s unless she was several weeks or more past due. Which also on a bit of a sad note for Chim means that she met, dated, and got pregnant by her husband only a month or so after leaving Chim given how heavily pregnant she appeared. (Honestly they could have def had her look a little less heavily pregnant. Like just enough to make it obvious she was pregnant but not very far along so as to give more time between leaving a him and finding someone new and getting pregnant and married)

Then we have the Christmas episode in S2 where Bobby and Athena get engaged.

All of this meaning all these events happened within the same year.

So really Buck and Abby only dated for a few months before she left him. Which honestly makes it much worse!

So I'm rewatching 9-1-1 and I've been obsessing about Buck-Abby relationship because while it isn't downright toxic, it doesn't feel very balanced to me.

They were dating since Valentine's day, so about a year... and yet she doesn't even discuss with him her plans to leave? If youre planning to be with somebody longterm, this should be something that is discussed. Doesn't have to ask his permission, but should ask his opinion. Not just... I'm leaving.

Abby doesn't seem to treat Buck as an equal in the relationship.

And I did the math, Abby's mom was 75 when she died, meaning she had her birthday in December 2017. Abby leaves in the season finale, which is tbe next episode.

There's usually a a few weeks between episodes, so even if we're very generous and say that she leaves in February, Buck decides to leave Abby's appartment during the Halloween episode. This means that more than 6 months have passed since she left (without discussing it with him before hand). She hasn't been in contact with him much as he says to Maddie.

Now, we are never told if she actually tells him not to wait for her at any point but from his actions next episodes it doesn't seem so.

Honestly, I think the relationship was good for Buck in the long run, but I still think that he should discuss Abby in his councelling.

[goddamnitmahtin]

Jason is a Teenage Dad

Woke up to see my phone open to my notes app and all it says on it is:

Jason is a Teenage Dad

- Jason is 15 and fucking dies.

- Clockwork shenanigans

- Jason drags his body out of the Lazarus

- Meets the eyes of a 3 year old Danny playing with the Joker’s decapitated head.

- Jason takes the child home. It is his now.

So, obviously, I gotta write about it. Enjoy this post based on the vision of delirious 4 am me.

……………….

Clockwork was bored. You would think the ability to see everything everywhere all at once would be overwhelming but it’s actually boring. There’s no suspense when you always know what’s going to happen. But that was all part of his job as the Ancient of time.

Every universe was scripted out. Each one was slightly different from the last, but it still had the same major things in there. For instance, there was always a Gotham in every universe. Sometimes the city itself, sometimes a comic book about the place as if it were fictional. The same with Amity Park except that one universe made it an anime instead of a kids show which was…. A choice.

Most of the time Clockwork just had to make sure that catalyst events happened no matter what the timeline. Like the adoption of Jason Todd. Or the death of Danny Fenton. The meteor that killed the dinosaurs. Stuff like that. Universes that didn’t have enough catalyst events like that tended to implode on themselves if some new event didn’t take its place.

Clockwork was looking at a universe at the moment that was definitely close to being expired. Could he let it happen? Sure. He could. But that wouldn’t have been much fun to watch.

In the universe he was looking at currently, Danny Fenton has all but disappeared at least according to the locals of Amity Park. Which wasn’t that bad. Easily fixable. However the much larger problem was that Jason Todd just died the wrong way. In most universes where his death took place, it always happened that same way as it was a catalyst event for that universe. Jason gets beat up by the joker and then dies in an explosion. Then he gets revived and healed by some assassins in a pit of really fucked up ecto. Standard procedure.

However in the universe Clockwork was looking at, Jason died due to the crowbar. There was no bomb. Infact, Batman didn’t even arrive to the scene until much later than he did in every other universe. The strangest part though, was that after killing Jason Todd, the Joker threw him into the Lazarus himself. There was no downtime or buffer. This kid was going to be alive again by the end of the week and unless Clockwork did some timeline adjustments, it was enough that the entire universe was inevitably going to fall apart.

Obviously fixing it wouldn’t be hard to do. If he did it the easy way. To rewrite Jason’s death. But that was kind of boring. So, Clockwork had a better idea.

…

Jason gasped suddenly and he felt liquid enter his lungs. He opened his eyes to see green. All around him. Shit, if he inhaled anymore liquid he could drown. So he started to try to swim towards what he thought was the surface. His body felt odd and disconnected from his brain making it hard to move but he kept going. He had to keep going. He didn’t want to die.

Finally, he felt his hand break the surface and latch onto a ledge. He pulled himself out of the green glowing Lazarus, trying to cough up as much liquid as possible.

Memories started to flood back to him. The fight. His mom. The Joker. The fucking crowbar. And most notably, no Batman. Batman never came. He was going to kill B for that.

Jason took a few deep breaths and let himself look around. His eyes immediately locked onto a child. Looked to be about 3. Pale with black hair and blue eyes. The boy was sitting with his legs crossed, covered in blood. He was playing with… something?

Jason couldn’t help but worry for the kid, hoping he did t fall into the pit. It was a dangerous place to be especially alone. Jason sat up to get a better look.

The moment he did, he saw the toddler’s eyes dart right into his own, the blue overpowered by a sudden glow of green. Lazarus green. A look of fear ran over the boy’s face as he froze in place.

Jason felt something in his chest churn, almost as if he could feel the fear dripping off of the child. He didn’t want to scare him. He didn’t want to hurt him. He wanted to get them both somewhere a bit more safe.

Jason stared at the boy, trying to not look menacing. He wanted him to know he could trust him. He felt whatever that new something inside his chest was also try to reach out. Jason didn’t notice when his own eyes turned green, but he did notice that the boy’s attitude shifted very quickly.

The toddler’s eyes went back to blue as the look of fear mostly washed out of his face. There was still some apprehension but it seemed that the two of them had silently come to an agreement of sorts that they were not enemies at least.

Jason looked down from the boy’s eyes and into his hands and whatever animosity Jason had within him was completely washed away. This kid had been through something horrific. In the toddler’s small arms was the decapitated and now decaying head of the Joker. Jason’s murderer.

Jason suddenly felt like this child in front of him was more important than anything else. Whatever he had gone through to land him in this place with that head was fucking over. Jason was going to protect this kid until the day he fucking died. Again. This child had gone through unimaginable things and Jason inherently knew that even though he knew nothing about this kid’s story, he was was going to be one of the very few who could really understand what he was going through.

“What is your name?” he asked as softly as he could.

The boy quietly responded in almost a whisper, “Danny.”

This kid was his kid now. To hell with wherever he came from. Jason was now a dad.

…

Bruce was distraught. Devastated. Completely inconsolable. Jason, his son, was dead. The Joker had confirmed it with a video of him laughing over the dead body. That was a week ago now. Bruce didn’t know what to do. He failed Jason. He wasn’t there when he should have. He couldn’t save him.

He had gotten delayed when he found out where Jason had gone and tried to go after him when a kid he’d seen at a few galas before, Tim was dropped out of the sky landing right on top of him with a post it note safety pinned to his back. He ignored it at the time as he was a little preoccupied.

After he got up again after the initial shock and realized it was just a kid, he tried to calm the nerves of young Tim who described watching his die and then being teleported into the sky and dropped. There was a chance that if Batman’s body hadn’t cushioned the fall, he would have been seriously injured.

He knew he couldn’t leave the young kid there by himself. And he knew that he had to find Jason. He didn’t want to bring him along either but the boy insisted that he wanted to come. Was it smart? No. Did he end up bringing Tim with him? Well yes. He was running out of time after all.

But Batman didn’t make it. The place was empty except for the dead body of Jason’s mother and a lot more blood that was undoubtedly his son’s.

Bruce was currently lying in his bed. He hadn’t gone out to do anything except for patrols. It was the only thing he could focus on. It was the the only thing he could bring himself to do. Bruce Wayne had the time to grieve for Jason Todd. Batman on the other hand did not have that. He had to remain vigilant and consistent. More importantly he had to find the Joker and send him away for killing Jason. Which would have been a lot easier if he hadn’t completely disappeared.

Bruce stared at the nightstand. It had the post it note that Tim had on his back when he fell. He had read it hundreds of times. But he didn’t want to believe it. It was just more proof that Jason was dead.

He took the post it note from the nightstand and read it again, hoping it was different. It was not.

Take this kid home. He’s Robin now :)

…

Tim didn’t really know what to do. His plans had come to fruition much faster than he had anticipated. After watching g his parents die, he had sworn to himself that he would find Bruce Wayne, the Batman, and convince him to let him help fight the evil of the city. But he didn’t expect that the moment he made that decision he would he plucked off his feet by unseen hands and then suddenly dropped from the sky.

That was over a week ago. Now, he was sitting on a large sofa in Wayne Manor. He was thinking. All he really had time to do was think. He had seen his first crime scene at Batman’s side and afterwards was brought back to the manor. He was left alone. He hadn’t seen Bruce hardly at all.

He wanted to do more. Go out and help with something. Anything. But Alfred wouldn’t let him go anywhere. So all he could do was think.

Did anything that had happened since his parent died make any sense? No. Joker deviated from his MO. But why? It was so different than anyone would have expected. There was no spectacle or epic battle with the Batman. He was just gone with a dead body behind. Nothing else.

And that was AFTER Tim was teleported into the middle of the sky. If he just had more resources, maybe a computer or some books that he could dive into to, he could figure it out. There had to be SOME reason. Right? But he had already checked the books in the manor library and Alfred wouldn’t let him into the poorly hidden Batcave. He only had his own thoughts.

He would grieve his parents with that time but he could also just as easily do that later. Besides, he had already decided he was going to become a vigilante and help the Batman. And most importantly, there was a puzzle in front of him that he wanted to solve more.

…

Jason knocked on the door the manor. He was nervous to see B again. Since according to newspapers he had been gone for a week. He knew his dad was gonna be mad that he went to see his mom. And mad he was gone so long. Jason knew he was going to get chewed out for it but he just wanted to be home. Especially since he was going to need help raising Danny. He didn’t know how adoption worked and Jason was only 15 but he was sure B knew how to do all that.

Danny was currently in his arms. He was so small compared to Jason now. Before he had died, he was wasn’t nearly this big. Jason had muscle sure but he was still relatively lean. Now, Jason was built more like a brick house. His shoulders were wider than a typical doorway and he was much taller, at least 6’4.

Danny was sleeping at the moment. He still had the Jokers head in his arms. He hadn’t been able to convince the kid to let it go. Which was fine. Jason didn’t really know what to do with it anyways.

Some shuffling was heard and then the door opened. Alfred was staring back at him.

“Hey sorry I was gone,” Jason said, not really sure what else to say.

Alfred looked from Jason to Danny to Jason, double take on Danny. His face was hard to read. Jason was kind of nervous.

Alfred stepped out of the doorway. Behind him was B.

“Jason!?”

“Yeah. Hi.”

Part 2 Part 3

[harrysfolklore]

growing family - verstappen!yn

pairing: verstappen!yn x boyfriend!charles, best fiend!oscar x verstappen!yn

verstappen!yn smau | masterlist | my patreon

You hummed along to the music coming from the speakers of your boyfriend's Monaco home as you stirred some pasta sauce for dinner.

Despite being to Monaco countless of times before, there was something different about being there with Charles for his home race week.

You enjoyed being alone in his apartment while he ran some errands or spent some time training, you felt at home and the company of Leo, the puppy you adopted together made everything better.

However, your time to yourself cooking dinner for you and your boyfriend was interrupted by your phone ringing.

oscar pastry 🥐 FaceTime Video

Frowning because you weren't quite expecting a call from your best friend, you answered.

"Hello mum," he said once his face popped up on screen.

"Mum?" you asked confused, "What are you even talking about?"

"Have you not seen twitter? I'm your kid now, Charles adopted me," he shrugged, "Where's my brother Leo?"

"Oscar are you drunk or something," you laughed at your best friend, "I haven't been on twitter since like, last year."

"Well log in, dumbass," he rolled his eyes and you flipped him off, "Hey! That's not the way to treat your son."

"Gosh stop saying that, we've been best friends since we were 15 it's weird," you shook your head as you opened the twitter app, luckily you weren't logged out because you certainly didn't remember your password.

And the first thing you saw pop up in your timeline was the banter between your boyfriend and your best friend.

"You guys are so annoying," you threw your head back in laughter as you read the tweets, "And you're both serious about it too."

"Of course, I'm a Leclerc-Verstappen now," he laughed along, "Shit, does that make Max my uncle?"

"It does," your eyes widened, "Are you sure you want that?"

"Well I wanted you guys to adopt me so you give me back the attention your boyfriend stole from me, I never consider Max would become my uncle," he teased, making you laugh.

"Come on pastry, we've talked about this," you gave him a serious look, "You'll always be my best friend and me being with Charles now would never change that."

"I know, I'm just messing around," a small smile played on his face, "You guys seem so happy and I love that for you."

As if on cue, you heard the front door open and your boyfriend's voice calling for you, Leo instantly barking and running to the door when he noticed his presence.

"Mon ange, I'm back," he said as he entered the kitchen, Leo cradled on his arm, "Missed you."

He pulled you closer y the waist and kissed the side of your head, making you smile and lean into him.

"Yikes, I didn't need to see that," Oscar's voice was heard from the phone screen, making you laugh.

"Oh hey son," Charles said to him, "How's my new favorite adopted child doing?"

"Hey dad, just calling to check in on my amazing parents and my little brother," he said, glancing at Leo who was now comfortably settled in Charles' arms.

"This is so weird, stop it," you cringed, making both of them laugh and Charles pull you to him again as you covered your face.

"We're a big happy family, mon amour. Ollie, Leo and now Oscar, the Leclerc-Verstappen family."

You smiled at him, pecking his lips a couple of times.

"Okay that's my cue, I don't want to see you guys making out," Oscar said shaking his head, "Good night, mum and dad, see you this weekend."

"Say bye to your brother too," Charles said, moving Leo closer to the camera.

"Bye Leo!"

As Oscar hung up, you couldn't help but laugh at the entire interaction, "So he's our son now?"

"Yes, and he seems to be enjoying it a lot," Charles chuckled, setting Leo down on the floor, "Who would've thought we'd have an adopted son before getting married or having our own kids?"

"Don't get any ideas, Leclerc," you playfully swatted his chest, "We're not adopting every one of my friends who jokes about it."

"Why not? We could build a whole team," Charles teased, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder and kissing it chastely, "We'd be the coolest family ever."

"It's your secret plan to make everyone on the grid your family? Dating Max's sister and now adopting Oscar, you're something else, Leclerc."

Charles laughed loudly at your words, throwing his head back and making you laugh along.

"Well, what can I say," he shrugged, "I'm charming and people love me."

"That you are," you smiled, kissing him gently.

That you are," you smiled, kissing him gently.

"Now, let me help with dinner," Charles offered, moving to the stove and checking the sauce. "It smells amazing, just like you."

"Smooth talker," you teased, handing him a spoon to stir. "Just make sure it doesn’t burn."

[zuyoo]

linger, one-shot. ﹙ nagi & gn!reader ﹚ 비애

CONTENT WARNING — clueless nagi, (open-ended) angst, misleading actions, images used are not face claims but rather used as a reference to visualize a scenario. enjoy reading !!!! :D

SYNOPSIS — you’re in love with your best friend, nagi seishiro, who is oblivious of your feelings but treats you well more than just a friend

ZUYOO’S NOTES — noOOoO 10 images limit on tumblr mobile app ( ꒦ິ ཀ ꒦ິ ) word count is probably a little over 1000 if not more than that.. ok ily enjoy reading MWAAA

p.s. i love u, everyone who leaves feedback and/or reactions with all my life :DD it just makes me feel so motivated in writing, thank you all sm!!

it started with one message, which lead to another… then another… then more. you two instantly clicked right after being attending the same club in your university. you’ve seen him before, and thought that he looked hard to approach—since he’s always on his phone, barely talks, and is always either practicing, in class, or out of reach (in his dorm)

you two grew close after talking about similar interests, and it didn’t take too long for you to develop feelings for him. i mean… how could you not when he has treated you way better than any other man who’s walked out of you life?

he messages you on a daily basis, doesn’t hesitate to come over and take care of you when you tell him that you aren’t feeling well, treats you to meals, drives you home, tries new hobbies because you told him you like those.

nagi has the looks, the talent, the brain, the skill, the body that a girl could ask for. you’re simply lucky enough to be near his presence—and oh boy how all the girls that see you two together makes you feel it.

their glares and side glances sharp as a knife, it gave you goosebumps all over. but you eventually paid no mind to their stares, the only thing that mattered at the moment is how you’d spend your day with nagi!

it’s been three years since your first interaction with him, and you two haven’t changed a thing. take it with a grain of salt. yes, you two still treat each other the same way, and no, he is not your anything—just a friend.

he’s such a fish to catch that you’re surprised why he’s still not seeing anyone at this point. maybe there was some point that you’ve thought about how there could be possibility that he could like you the way you like him, which is stopping him from seeing anyone else.

or maybe his actions has raised your hopes up and made you delusional. how could you know? you’ve been friends for three whole years now, yet you still can’t read him.

he left you on delivered? that’s new. well- it was bound to happen. it’s not like he’s obligated to reply or at least leave a reaction… right? right. you’re his best friend. nothing more, nothing less.

but what could he be doing? it’s a sunday. he doesn’t have practice, and the term just started. he couldn’t have had any assessments he needed to finish.

your questions were quickly answered once you’ve opened up your twitter app and found someone unfamiliar in your timeline.

“pfft—this happens all the time.” you say. “and they’re always fake.”

and how you wished you were right.

“oh.” was everything you could let out, as if that one tweet didn’t break your heart into pieces. you were glad he’s finally seeing someone—but at the same time, you had hoped that it was just a misunderstanding, that he’s actually maggy’s cousin… or something! just not her suitor. even though the signs are as clear as day.

it was petty, and this- this will hurt you, and it’ll hurt bad. so you had no other choice but to try and distance yourself away from him as much as possible, to save yourself and to respect who he’s been seeing. it was for the better… but—he was making it hard.

nagi’s completely clueless!

you didn’t know whether to laugh it out because of how oblivious he is. does he not realize what he’s doing to you?

at this point, you start to realize how none of it was your fault in the first place. you couldn’t control you feelings, and it certainly didn’t help that nagi treats you way too well.

even so, you could never blame him. it could just be in his nature, to be kind, lovable, and to be the pinnacle of a girl’s dream. and you were the one at fault because you’re taking advantage of his kindness to satisfy your curiosity regarding what it felt like being handled with genuine care, only for it to backfire—seeing that you actually fell for him big time.

still, that wasn’t your first train of thought when you met him. you genuinely wanted to be friends because he seemed like a cool guy. it just so happens that your heart begun to agitate more and more everyday when you’re with him.

or maybe it was maggy’s fau—oh my god, make up your mind, yn!!

“let’s not put the blame on everyone. whatever happened, happened. none of it matters now. i just have to get myself out of this mess… then i’ll be back to same, old me. right.” you thought to yourself.

you have been ignoring nagi for the past three days, leaving him on delivered, and practically scrambling away when you see him in the hallways—or everywhere, actually.

did you tell him why you’re doing this? no, why would you?

does he care? a lot, as a friend, most likely.

he’s been trying to reach you for the past 3 days, while you were off running everywhere but to the places you and nagi went to together, which is hard because you’ve both been to every cafe, every movie theater, every arcade, every mall your city could offer.

there was this one place you two haven’t been in yet. it was perfect for admiring the view below, or simply a place to just clear your mind.

you planned on going there after classes were over, and it made you quite excited. you were supposed to go here with nagi but… you know, things happened. nonetheless, you wanted to enjoy this, even if it meant not being able to bring nagi with you.

after class ended, you bid your farewell to your friends before getting into a cab and going to the rooftop lounge that recently just opened.

you opened the door that leads to the lounge and was surprised by what greeted you at the door.

it was nagi, with maggy. their hands intertwined as they admire the city.

ouch. seeing them like that felt like ten thousand trains running me over.

you were about to leave when you heard her call for your name. you froze on the spot, a course of thoughts ran through your brain on whether to run for it, or play a good face and not ignore her calls.

“y/n! come join us.”

you made the decision to turn around and approach them instead… she waved and smiled at you. god—how can you make such a lovely woman?!

it was too late to run anyways, you felt their eyes on you when you froze by the door, it would be far too embarrassing to just leave with them knowing that you heard maggy call for you.

“hey, i couldn’t reach you.”

nagi greeted. you briefly glanced into his eyes and gave him a smile before breaking eye contact. you could barely look into his eyes—you might burst out crying if you stare any longer.

“i was busy.”

you replied, dryly. you really were busy; busy with assessments, busy distracting yourself from your feelings, busy doing whatever it takes to forget about nagi… but if you two keep meeting like this—and if he keeps trying to talk to you, it will pose a challenge for you to fully move on.

why do you have to let it linger? you ask him in your mind as if he could read it. his constant concern for your wellbeing, his actions towards you, his daily messages checking up on whether you’ve eaten your meals yet—why does he have to let your feelings for him linger?

unknowingly, sure. but has he have not a single clue on why you’ve been distancing yourself? on why you haven’t been hanging around much?

you missed him, really. but this was the perfect distance for you both. he can keep reaching out until the day he gets sick of it; but as much as you want to respond to him, you can’t—you shouldn’t.

the following months were practically the hell. you’ve completely cut off contact with him (you ghosted him, basically) and was buried in a never-ending cycle of homework and projects, leaving no time for anything else.

when the semester ended, your friend, bachira, invited you to his party. he noticed that you were completely restless and said that you needed to loosen up a little.

it was 12 in the evening but the party has just begun—you could consider yourself a fan of staying at home in my comfy pajamas and old indie movies, rather than a party ‘til sunrise & drink ‘til you drop type of person… which lead you to excusing yourself out of the room with flashing lights and booming music to find somewhere else more peaceful to drink.

you found yourself on a huge balcony with a red cup on your hand. thank the gods that the doors muffles out the noise coming from the inside.

this was just right. and honestly what you needed. all that workload from the past few weeks has been killing you.

what you didn’t expect was for someone to break the silence you gave yourself.

“it was about time i saw you again. and out of all the places i thought i would see you in, a party was not one of them.”

nagi spoke nonchalantly. his sudden interjection jolted you out of your own thoughts. it’s been about six months since you’ve broke off contact with him. hell, you could barely remember his voice.

“oh fuc-… ah. i’m sorry- i should find another place.”

“no. stay. you owe me an explanation.”

maybe it was just you, but given where this conversation is headed… he sounded intimidating. his voice didn’t change much, perhaps it didn’t change at all, but you heard the sharpness of his words and felt the need to comply to whatever he says.

“sorry.”

“sorry doesn’t cut it, y’know?”

he lightly chuckled before mixing his drink around his own red cup that he brought.

“right… sorry. but, how are you? how’s maggy?”

“ah. it didn’t work out. she’s nice but it really isn’t working out for us.”

“oh. sorry.”

that was a surprise. you thought they’d still be all lovey-dovey with each other. maggy is a lovely girl, what could’ve gotten wrong?

“another apology and i’ll keep bothering you. you wouldn’t like that won’t you? considering how you’ve completely ghosted me for 6 months without an explanation or even a subtle hint of why you did it? right?”

“hey-!”

okay… maybe he hasn’t changed that much. he still holds his grudges. nagi broke eye contact and looked up to the moon with this… yearning look on his face—he looked so pretty, it was pathetic!!

a sigh left your lips before nervously starting to explain you side, since you felt like he really needed to know why. plus, it was a good chance to let go of that burden.

maybe a confession was nagi’s needed closure, and your way of letting go of the guilt of knowing you’ve randomly disappeared in his life without him even knowing anything.

“i like… liked. you, nagi. more than a friend should’ve.”

“what?”

his actions came to a halt. oh, he was THAT clueless

“aha—yeah… but then there came maggy. she was such a lovely person, and i know you deserved to be loved like that. i should’ve been happy for you, but i really couldn’t bring myself to. it hurts seeing my best friend whom i’ve liked for the longest time smile because of a person they’re romantically involved with, y’know?”

you weren’t able to find the strength to look at him as you explained, but it felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders after.

“i-”

“no, don’t say anything. i just really needed to let that out… for your sake, and mine. i also wanted to thank you. y’know—for everything. you’ve been a great best friend, nagi.”

“okay but-”

he didn’t get to say whatever he wanted to say because the door that leads to the party suddenly opened, revealing a tipsy bachira.

“y/n!! here you are~ and nagi too!!”

bachira gleefully said before dragging y/n back inside, leaving nagi alone in the balcony.

he watched your figure get lost in the crowd of people partying without end, saying:

“ah-… i liked you…too?”

© zuyoo — do not copy, plagiarize, or translate my work without my permission. i only upload my work in tumblr.

[s4bbatical]

YOUR GIRL | Part 2. Patrick Zweig x Female!Reader

Pairing: Patrick Zweig x female!reader, Tashi Duncan x female!reader (platonic)

Summary: After your parents announce their divorce, you're sent to New York to pursue your passion for the arts at NYU. Your cousin, the infamous tennis player Tashi Duncan, introduces you to her insufferable colleagues at a house party in the upper east side. Already a sore thumb from rural Canada, Patrick can't help but find interest in an untouched territory.

Word Count: 5,5k

Warnings: Sexual tension, profanities, mentions of cigarette use.

MINORS DNI

Notes: The timeline is inaccurate in comparison to the film, this is an AU. All characters introduced are barely in their early 20s, unless stated otherwise. No use of y/n.

Part 1. Part 3. Part 4.

CHAPTER TWO: “Everything is Embarrassing”

"Could've been my anything, now everything is embarrassing."

It had been two weeks since the house party scene had unfolded, and to no avail, you could not stop thinking of those green eyes. They watched you in the back of your mind no matter what you did, whether it was homework or taking a shower. They never leaved you alone.

The worst part is, you hadn’t even seen him since the gathering. The constant recollection of how he stared at you, haunted you more than the idea of his presence itself. It was embarrassing.

-

You found yourself walking into a coffee shop not far from your grandparent’s home, willing to perform in the corner of the space by convincing yourself that you’d get any of your homework done.

You ordered a black coffee, not in the mood to drink anything heavy as your stomach already felt uneasy with the deadlines you had waiting for you.

Tashi had agreed to sleep over, on the condition you’d be willing to meet her at the recreational space provided by NYU later that day. You two had a family gathering the next day, so it made sense. Plus, she loved you like you were her sister. She was more than happy to spend time with you.

Tashi was already training even though it was the off season. You envied her drive, but wouldn’t dare doing half the things she did. Your uphill treks to even make it to your classes were more than enough.

You stared at your laptop screen, feeling the blue rays burn your eyes into your skull. You read the first paragraph of your paper at least five times over, hoping you’d find a spark in you to write the second one. One would think that writing a paper on a topic you actually enjoyed would be a walk in the park, that is, if the park was burning in flames.

You end up scrolling on your phone not soon after, somehow ending up on Patrick Zweig’s Instagram page by diving deep enough on your cousin’s profile. You hated to admit that this wasn’t the first time you had done this within the past two weeks.

You feel yourself get worked up slightly as you scrolled past the photos of him on the court, sweat and lean muscle encapsulated perfectly within the professionally taken photos.

Your thumb slips as you attempt to refocus on your task at hand, accidentally liking a family photo from two years ago. You gasp quietly to yourself.

“Shit!” You whisper, removing your like from the photo before putting your phone face down on the table. Shockingly, you manage to find a jolt of energy to continue writing your paper in fear of looking at your phone once more. You heard your phone vibrate, but refuse to look at it.

An hour goes by, you've grown tired of looking at the words on your screen again. Without thinking, you pick up your phone to look at your notifications.

pat_zweig started following you.

Your eyes widen at the notification, hesitantly unlocking your phone and opening the Instagram app. You decide to follow him back, feeling as if your chest was about to explode by how fast your heart rate had gone up.

You watch as you receive a new DM.

pat_zweig: thinking of me are you?

You put your phone back down, shaking your head. You begin to pack up your belongings, seeing it was nearly time to meet up with Tashi and it takes nearly an hour to get there from your current location. Your face surely had gone red from the interaction, wanting to disappear into the hole of the earth and become one with the dirt.

You begrudgingly exit the café, walking over to the subway to get yourself to the West Village.

-

You approach the large recreational center, using your student card to get inside.

You notice students from different skill levels and sport backgrounds exercising in their own bubbles, paying no mind to each other unless necessary. You walk over to an empty bench, sitting down as you scan the room for Tashi. She was nowhere to be seen.

You remember there’s a tennis court in the next space over, picking up yourself back up.

You walk over to the next heavy set of doors that led to an outside lot attached to the building, pushing them open to reveal the court. You still don’t see Tashi.

You sigh, pulling out your phone to see if your cousin had texted you; nothing from her end. You scan the space again whilst walking into the bleachers. You set your bag down, deciding that she could find you here.

Off season apparently meant nothing to these people, watching them work up a sweat in the late September breeze. Your mind is so set on the schoolwork you left behind that you don’t even notice exactly who is playing until you begin to focus on faces.

Your eyes land on Patrick.

He was on the furthest court away from the door, which is why you hadn’t noticed him at first. He was playing a round against Art.

You watched closely as he smacked the ball, hard. His muscles moved with every decision he made, your eyes wandering down to his exposed legs, specifically his thighs.

You felt your face flush again, finding somewhere to sit before anyone could notice you fixated on the sight in front of you. You pull out your phone and text Tashi quickly.

where r u? i’m sitting by the tennis court

You look up right in time to watch Patrick begin to chase around Art after their game ends. As Art falls to the ground in a dramatic feat, this is when Patrick finally makes eye contact with you. He slows down, now only about 20 feet away from you. You could see that smirk from the top of the empire state building if you tried hard enough.

You knew he wanted to talk to you, and a part of you wanted him to, like a child playing with fire. Before he has a chance to approach you, Tashi appears from what seemed like thin air with her bag around her shoulder.

“Sorry, I was in the locker room.” She says, approaching you with a smile.

You snap out of your daze, looking up at your cousin. "Took you long enough." You force out.

“Let’s go, I am starving.” She says, signaling you to follow her.

You get up once more, moving your messenger bag across your body. The two of you climb down from the bleachers and make your way to the exit. You quickly glance back as Tashi opens the doors, looking at Patrick.

He was watching you closely, his eyes sizing you up. He waves at you with that diabolical smirk once your eyes meet again, just like he did at the party. You mentally kick yourself, despising the excitement you felt from this situation. Tashi would be immensely disappointed in you, to say the least. You look away.

“Hello, you okay?” Tashi asks, waving her hand in front of your face as the doors closed behind you two.

You blink repeatedly, coming to. “Yeah, sorry. My essay has drained me mentally.” You smack your cheeks lightly, attempting to straighten out your brain and rebuke any thoughts of that mischievous bastard.

Tashi laughs at you. “Okay you weirdo.” She says, linking arms with you. “I drove today, by the way. No shitway for us.”

Tashi has referred to the subway as such for as long as you could remember. She grew up better off than you, avoiding public transit whenever she could. However, she always willingly rode the subway with you when you visited. It was apart of the experience, you had always reasoned with her. Since you were now a local until further notice, the desire to do so wasn’t as strong now that you had to take the subway yourself nearly every day.

-

The car ride was long but bearable. Tashi had let you choose the music, also letting you complain when she apparently had no good CDs. They were her parents CDs, anyways. It didn’t matter to her.

You felt your phone vibrate on your lap, lifting it up to see what notification you got as Tashi droned on about her own studies.

pat_zweig: do you always look that hot and bothered, or is it because of me?

You gulp quietly, side eyeing Tashi to make sure she wasn’t taking notice to what you were doing on your phone as you continued to nod in agreement to whatever she was saying.

You: do you always speak to women like this, or are you just born this way?

You didn’t really want to put up a fight with Patrick, but you found it only fair to at least try to drive him away on your cousin’s behalf.

pat_zweig: only to the ones id like to see underneath me to be honest

You gasp loudly at the aforementioned text, causing Tashi to become concerned.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” She asks quickly, taking her eyes off the road for a second to look over at you.

“Nothing! Nothing.” You laugh nervously, holding your phone screen away from her sight. “I just uh, I realized I had something due sooner than I expected.” You say curtly, pulling gently at the neckline of your sweater. You stared at the message over and over, taken aback by his crass response. You quickly text back.

You: wowww you’re really ambitious! you should direct that energy towards your personal goals in life and actually make something of yourself

You knew that you were being rude, but you had a feeling he enjoyed being ridiculed by you. It was quite obvious that you couldn’t say anything that would make him leave you alone. Quite frankly, that’s the last thing you’d wish for him to do.

pat_zweig: what if my personal goal is to know what it’s like?

You hastily put your phone in your pocket as the two of you approach your grandparent’s home, your body burning to the touch.

“Do you need help with that assignment?” Tashi asks once she parked her car and turned off the ignition.

“What assignment?” You ask, confused by her question.

Tashi gives you a quizzical look. “The one you seem really worked up over. You’ve barely spoken for the last five minutes. You don’t do that.” She points out, gesturing towards you.

You laugh again. “No, it’s fine, sorry. My mind is just–“ You whistle, pointing your finger out the window. “–elsewhere today. Ignore me.” You say, stepping out of the car and closing the passenger door.

You retrieve your bags from the backseat, Tashi giving you a look like she didn’t fully believe you. Albeit, she did not question you further.

As the two of you have dinner with your grandparents, your mind keeps wandering back to the message. Your imagination gets the best of you as you thought about what it is like to have his calloused hands on your exposed skin, the same flames as before licking at your core. Deep down, you wanted to find out.

“Excuse me, I have to use the washroom.” You says suddenly, getting up to exit the room and run upstairs.

“Don’t be long! We still have dessert!” Your grandmother exclaims after you.

You felt your heart race as you closed the door behind you, sitting on the ledge of the bathtub as you unlocked your phone. You go to text back Patrick.

You: and what exactly is it that you’d do in order to find that out?

This was getting messy. You knew you were doing something you shouldn’t have, and it only enticed you more to the situation.

-

Patrick didn’t text back right away. In fact, he didn’t at all until you and Tashi were in your room a few hours later, staying up watching rom coms.

Tashi was laying beside you, her eyes barely staying open. Jennifer Hudson was meeting Matthew McConaughey for the first time in How to Lose A Guy In 10 Days when your phone buzzed again. You looked at it instantly.

pat_zweig: what are you doing rn?

pat_zweig: i’ll answer your question in person

Your eyes flicker between Tashi and the movie before responding.

You: i’m busy sorry

pat_zweig: not busy enough to be ignoring me though, right?

You don’t respond right away, your mind drifting off over the imagery he has given you. Patrick sends you another text.

pat_zweig: you’re thinking about it, aren’t you

You: about what?

You knew exactly what he was referring to, but something about trying to make him say it out loud made it even better.

pat_zweig: you know what i mean, you're smarter than that

pat_zweig: are you sure you’re busy?

You look over at Tashi. She’s fallen asleep without you even realizing it. You purse your lips in deep thought, weighing out your options. You respond back.

You: i can’t tonight

You watch as the typing bubble reappears then disappear multiple times before he finally messages you back.

pat_zweig: enjoy that dream world of yours in the meantime then

pat_zweig: goodnight

You feel your cheeks warm up, placing your phone face down on the bed beside you.

You begin to think about what would it be like; to be underneath him, over him, in front, his head between your–

You flip over to bury your face in your pillow, attempting to suffocate the thoughts out of your mind. Without trying, you end up falling asleep.

-

As the morning rises, you and Tashi busy yourselves with school assignments for the earlier half of the day.

"Stop moving or this portrait is gonna look disfigured." You state, Tashi readjusting herself in your desk chair once again. You had to paint a subject for your visual studies course, figuring your cousin would be a great example. Except, she could not sit still for the life of her.

"Sorry, the coffee is getting to me." She admits, keeping her face straight as you continue to paint the base of the image.

"Just let me get the color grade right, then you can get up." You say, sticking out your tongue slightly as you focus on the canvas.

Your grandparents and Tashi's parents liked to host family gatherings every couple of months or so, preferably when it was still warm outside so they had an excuse to use the barbecue. The entire house was expected to be in attendance, meaning you and your grandparents. Tashi explained that her parents were more than happy to do so, considering your appearance in their home of New York.

"Okay..." You lay down a few more strokes before humming in approval. "You're free to roam now."

Tashi gets up instantly, stretching out her back. "I'm grateful you asked me to do this, but don't make me do it again please." She pleas, groaning slightly.

"Noted." You say, putting the paintbrush into your jar of murky water.

"Girls! Are you hungry? I'm making appetizers for later." Your aunt Diane exclaims from the bottom of the stairs.

"Do you think she made pigs in a blanket?" You ask Tashi excitedly, who laughs at your facial expression.

"Coming, mom!" She yells back, exiting the room with you trailing behind.

The two of you enter the kitchen, seeing all kinds of ingredients laid out on the counter. Your grandmother was assisting Diane, your grandfather outside with Tashi's dad Mike as the two hovered over the barbecue. There were in fact, pigs in a blanket on the counter. You reach your hand out for one.

"Careful baby," Your grandmother warns. "They're fresh out of the oven. Wait a few minutes."

You nod, retracting your hand. "What time is everyone supposed to be here at?" You ask, sitting on a stool.

"About an hour, just a few more family friends is all." Diane explains. "I invited Michelle and her folks. I haven't seen her in quite some time, I'm very ecstatic." She muses, a smile forming on her face.

"Who's Michelle?" Tashi asks, taking a grape from a nearby bowl and throwing it into her mouth.

"An old friend of mine from college. Her son actually goes to NYU too, tennis player as well." Her mom says, pointing her knife towards Tashi before going back to cutting tomatoes.

"What's his name? I might know him." Tashi states.

"I honestly can't remember, honey. He's coming too though, I believe. You'll see then if you know him or not." Diane shrugs.

Your phone vibrates, pulling it out of your back pocket.

pat_zweig: any wet dreams of me last night?

You roll your eyes, turning your body away from the conversation between your family members.

You: that would actually be a nightmare. so no, thankfully

pat_zweig: you're really good at pretending you don't give a shit about me

pat_zweig: keep it up and i might get hard ;)

You scoff, putting your phone back in your pocket. Unbelievable.

Your grandmother says your name, earning your attention. "Can you mix up the caesar salad for me while I get these tarts going?" She asks with a drawl of her Brooklyn accent.

"Course." You say, getting off the stool and catering to your grandmother's needs.

-

The door bell rings. Not realizing it had already been an hour, your aunt makes a noise of excitement as she heads over to the front door. She begins greeting people you have either last seen when you were 14, or have never met at all.

You felt like your head was metaphorically hit with a large stone when you see a familar head of black curls step through the threshold of the front door. You hear Tashi choke on her water behind you.

"Grandma, what's Michelle's last name?" You ask quickly, turning away from the scene to face your grandmother.

"Oh, Zweig I think. Why?" She says casually, having no idea about the chaos that was about to ensue.

Tashi locks eyes with you, although you knew you didn't look nearly as pissed off as she did over his presence.

"I'm going to help dad outside." She says calmly, quickly walking through the sliding door that was already open.

You debate whether or not you should follow your cousin, but you didn't wish to create a situation. "Is Tashi alright?" Your grandmother asks.

"She will be." You sigh, turning back towards the guests. It would be rude of you to not say hi, after all.

Patrick looks at you, standing beside his mother. That's where he gets his looks from. You think to yourself.

"Michelle, this is my niece." Diane introduces you, Michelle stepping forward and engulfing you in a hug.

"Your Steph's daughter? Gosh, you are quite the stunner." Michelle says, rubbing your back briskly before stepping back. "This is my son, Patrick."

Patrick smiles innocently. "Oh, we know each other already." He says nonchalantly.

"Oh really? You must know Tashi then," Your aunt glances around. "I'm not sure where she went, though." She hums.

Michelle and Diane rejoice in conversation, wandering off to the backyard to join the men. Your grandmother had began bringing out snacks to the dining table, leaving you and Patrick alone in the kitchen.

He leans against the counter, a little too comfortably close to you. "Long time no talk." He muses, grabbing a grape from the bowl behind you and popping it into his mouth. A grin spreads across his face when he realizes how tense you are.

"Did you know I'd be here?" You ask with a flippant tone. "It's like you get off by making me uncomfortable." You suggest, crossing your arms.

Patrick shrugs. "Don't know," He leans in close. "you didn't seem that uncomfortable last night." He glances down at your lips before making eye contact once more. "Also, no, I didn't know. Pleasant surprise." He murmurs before stepping away, heading towards the backyard.

You let go of the breath you didn't realize you were holding, deciding to preoccupy yourself by helping your grandmother arrange appetizers on the dining table.

-

More family members arrived over time, nearly everyone either outside on the lawn or sitting around the dining table with drinks.

You had decided to stand on the balcony connecting to the master bedroom, having a cigarette so the smoke wouldn't be a disturbance to anyone. You watched carefully as Patrick entertained one of your younger relatives, trying not to laugh as the kid threw his stuffed animal at his face. He feigned being hurt, earning a hug from the little boy. It warmed your heart a bit, seeing this side to him. You hear the door open behind you, turning your head to see Tashi.

"I cannot believe he showed up, seriously." She scoffs, looking over the scenery. "He knew this was my family's gathering, it's like he enjoys being the piece of shit on the bottom of my shoe or something." She says bitterly, taking a sip of the diet coke in her hand.

You tilt your head side to side, somewhat agreeing with her. You blow out smoke. "At least he isn't trying anything," You attempt to reason. "But I get it. If I were you, I'd wanna kick him in the nuts or something too." It wasn't far from what your feeling yourself.

After a few moments of silence, Tashi speaks once again. "I think I'm gonna head home, I have an early day tomorrow anyways." She sighs, looking over at you. "Are you gonna be alright?" She asks, clearly referring to the threat down below.

"Oh, yeah." You reassure. "These bad boys?" You flex your arms as your cigarette hangs out of you mouth. You put your arms back down and hold out your smoke to continue speaking. "They'll protect me."

Tashi laughs quietly, nodding. "Okay then. I'm heading out." She pulls you in for a brief hug. "You smell like cigarettes." She comments, her nose scrunching up a bit.

"Hm, wonder why." You say, raising your brows as you inhale the cigarette once more.

Tashi smiles at you. "Okay, bye." She says, returning back into the house.

You put out the cancerous addiction into the ash tray on top of the side table to your right, resting your arms on the railing. You look back down, watching your relatives mingle with one another. You smile, yet felt heavy without the presence of your mom around. You were pretty good at calling her every other day, but it just wasn't the same.

You make eye contact with Patrick, who holds up a pack of his own smokes, gesturing to your current location. You roll your eyes. You knew it was best if he smoked where you were than anywhere else. You nod, watching him grin as he disappears into the house.

A minute later, he joins you on the balcony, closing the sliding door behind him. He doesn't say a word, putting a cigarette in his mouth. He pats down his pockets, looking for a lighter.

You flick yours and hold it up, allowing Patrick to lean in and light his smoke without you even looking at him.

You listen to him inhale then exhale, standing right beside you.

"Beautiful evening, isn't it?" He says, no indication of arrogance in his words. He actually might be genuine for once.

"Mm, yeah." You mumble, resting your chin on the palm of your hand.

He leans over the railing to make eye contact with you. "You okay?" He asks, noticing your lack of sarcasm.

"Yeah, it's fine." You say, looking back down at your family members. "It's stupid, I just miss my mom. That's all." You say nonchalantly.

Patrick nods, inhaling his cigarette again. "She's back in Canada, right?" He asks.

"Yep, unfortunately." You say, looking over at him as you purse your lips. "I'm surprised you haven't made a lewd comment yet." You remark, a small smile playing on your lips.

It was odd, there wasn't any tension to slice with a knife. The air was peaceful between the two of you.

Patrick chuckles. "I figured right now isn't a good time. Besides, there's children present." He gestures towards the young children running around the legs of parents who attempted to hold conversation while their kids yelled.

"I don't think they can hear you, nor would they know what you were even saying." You point out, debating whether or not you have another cigarette.

Patrick hums. "I suppose you're right." He says, putting his cigarette out in the ash tray.

You look at each other for a long moment, complete silence taking over. You clear your throat and stand up straight, running a hand through your hair.

"Can I ask you something?" You say, your stomach flipping over as he nods. "Why..." You struggle to find your words. "Why do you do the things you do?"

He furrows his brows at your question. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"How come you like flirting with everyone? You slept with my cousin over the summer and now you're going after me. Why?" You ask. You didn't have any cruel intentions behind your words, you simply just wanted to know why.

Patrick goes silent, his gaze looking down at the ground. "I, I don't know." He mumbles before looking back up at you. "I think I like knowing I have that ability over people." He admits, shrugging. "I'm not trying to achieve anything, I just can't help myself." He says, scratching the back of his neck.

You nod, looking away in thought. "Right, makes sense." You say.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He inquires, sounding nearly offended by your statement.

"Manwhore." You simply say, holding back a smile.

"Oh shut the fuck up." He quips, shaking his head. "You're really something, you know." He adds, looking at you with a certain fondness in your eyes. You were meeting his level, you knew it was entertaining to him.

"I'm something to Patrick Zweig? God bless America." You say sarcastically, placing your hand over your heart.

He mocks you in a high pitched tone, rolling his eyes. "Most women would've caved in by now, even Tashi did." He states, a shit eating grin on his face.

"Hey seriously, don't speak of her like that." You say sternly, clearly upset with his words.

His smile falls, wincing at your words. "Sorry, I'm sorry. That was a low blow, that wasn't cool. Sorry." He says. "I mean it." He adds, his words with a clear indication of regret.

You hum for a moment. "I guess I forgive you." You say, rubbing your arms. The breeze had gotten colder over the course of two weeks, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." He says, a half grin on his face now. "Are you cold? We can go back inside. I think the party is dying down anyways." He points out, grabbing ahold of the door handle.

"Yeah, I should get back to my homework anyways." You state, stepping inside once Patrick opened the door.

The two of you make it out to the hallway, hearing the faint commotion of family downstairs.

Patrick stands awkwardly in the doorway as you enter your bedroom, unsure of what he was allowed to do.

"You can come in, just don't try anything please." You warn him, walking over to your closet to find a change of clothes.

"Course." He says, entering the room. He may be a horny asshole, but he knew when to respect boundaries. "Do you, want me to close the door or...?" He asks timidly.

"Please." You request. "I need to change, so I'd also appreciate it if you stood and faced the wall in the corner." You add, gesturing him towards the other side of the room.

Patrick raises his eyebrow, closing the door before facing the corner beside it. "Go ahead." He says, muffled by the wall.

You watch him as you undress, making sure he doesn't attempt to sneak a peek at you.

"Okay, you may turn around now."

Patrick slowly turns to face you, your outfit now a baggy shirt and some worn out sweatpants. "Wow, what an outfit." He says sarcastically, going over to your bed to sit on it.

"I was trying to impress you." You say with the same amount of humor in your voice, walking over to your desk.

"Are you actually gonna do your homework?" He asks, leaning back against your headboard.

"Yeah, the fuck?" You remark, sitting down in your desk chair.

"Wow." He lets out a low whistle, resting his hands behind his head as he crosses his legs. "Shocking."

"What?" You ask.

You both knew exactly what the other was thinking, but your pride was too big and his ego was too inflated for either of you to say anything about it.

"Nevermind." He says, closing his eyes. "Your bed is comfortable, I might just sleep here tonight." He muses, opening one eye.

"Hm, sorry, there's no flames to recreate the heat of Hell where your apartment must be." You retort, turning to face your laptop.

"You're really funny, I like that." Patrick comments, smiling at the back of your head. "You ever consider stand up?"

"Only if I get to make fun of you on stage for two hours straight." You quip, looking over your shoulder with a smile.

Patrick laughs quietly, standing up from your bed to lean over you, watching your laptop screen. "I cannot understand why a research paper is more exciting than my presence." He says, placing one hand on your chair and the other on your desk beside your hand.

"You'd be surprised." You say humorously, looking up at him.

He looks down at you, his face illuminated by your desk lamp. God, he was one attractive idiot.

He smirked, leaning his face in closer. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." He murmurs.

"I was just about to say the same thing." You whisper. You both hesitantly move in closer, finding yourself slowly losing the battle.

Patrick was not an easy man to ignore, and you were rapidly becoming unsure of your ability to control yourself. His lips just barely graze yours, teasing you slightly. You're about to go all in-

Until someone opens the door.

You both pull away from each other. Patrick is now standing as stiff as a board, his hands stuck to his sides as he pretends to look at your laptop screen. You stared at Diane with wide eyes.

"Oh, sorry you two." She raises a brow. "Was I interrupting something?"

"Nope. She was just showing me her research paper. Boring as hell." Patrick states, walking over to the door. "Is my mom looking for me?" He asks.

"Yes, I was about to say. She just wanted to say goodbye, and if you needed a ride to your apartment." Tashi mom says, eyeing Patrick closely.

You begin to laugh, covering your mouth.

Patrick's ears turn red, laughing awkwardly at Diane's words. "She's so sweet, considering my crappy Volkswagen is in the shop right now." He explains through gritted teeth, making sure you knew he wasn't getting rides from his mom consistently at the proper age of 22. "I'll get going now, goodnight Mrs. Duncan." He says, then looks over at you. "Goodnight." He winks at you before disappearing from view.

She watches him go down the stairs, turning to face you again. "What an interesting man that Patrick is." She states, crossing her arms. "He wasn't trying anything, was he?" She asks cautiously.

"No ma'am, I wouldn't let him do such a thing." You assure her. Like mother like daughter. You think to yourself.

"Alright." She whispers, uncrossing her arms with a smile. "Mike and I are heading out now. Call me if you need me." She states as she quickly walks over and hugs you, placing a kiss on your head. "I love you a lot."

"Will do. I love you too." You respond, smiling.

"Bye baby." Your aunt says before she exits your room, closing the door slowly behind her.

You groan loudly a few moments later, dragging your hands over your face in frustration towards no one but yourself. You almost succumbed to the powers of Patrick Zweig, and it was pissing you off.

"Stupid motherfucking pretty boy motherfucker." You mutter bitterly to yourself, grabbing your makeup wipes off your desk to clean your face. "You will not win! Your charms don't work on me, you bitch!" You exclaim, pretending he was still in front of you. You rub the makeup off your face and discard the used wipes in the trashcan by your desk.

Your phone buzzes. You sigh loudly, rubbing your forehead.

"I swear to god." You mutter, grabbing the cellular device.

pat_zweig: next time there will be no interruptions

pat_zweig: goodnight ;)

You toss yourself onto your bed, grabbing your pillow as you scream into it.

You will be the death of me, Patrick Zweig.

-

i know i wrote this but why is he lowkey pissing me off too LMFAO

anyways, thank you for your patience everyone. A whole 24 hours.. blasphemy. I'll get right onto part 3, no doubt about it. also!! over double the amount of the previous word count because i am very grateful for the responses i got. much love you guys.

as always, let me know how you like it, and if you have any suggestions for future pieces lmk! huzzah

much love, isabel

[the-traveling-poet]

Headcannon no. 5

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

Social Media

Modern!Levi very scarcely uses social media platforms. He prefers to stick to text.

And even then, he only texts when necessary.

If it weren’t for his job and his small group of friends, he might have even forgotten to take his phone with him when leaving the house.

One night when hanging out with Erwin and Hange at the former’s house, a drunken Hange had managed to convince an equally drunken Levi to lend them his phone.

Expect the look of confusion on Levi’s face the next day when he checks his phone and sees a plethora of new apps downloaded on his phone.

After much pestering from Hange, Levi finally made a FabeBook and Instagram account.

“No no no…You need SnapChat! Twitter! Tiktok!”

“Those all sound juvenile.”

His profiles are disappointingly blank. Just his name. No pfp, no bio, no posts, and no liked posts on his timelines.

He somehow gets 300 followers???

He only follows his closest friends, so under 10 people.

Hange steals his phone sometimes to use his account to like their most recent posts.

Levi pretends to not notice.

Eventually, he warms up to the idea of being able to check in on his friends via their posts, and gets encouraged to add a pfp of his own.

It may or may not be a slightly blurry selfie of his bored face.

He’s constantly tagged in posts by Hange, Erwin, Eren, Isabel, Petra, and Oulo whenever he’s in the background of their selfies and other photos.

He only ever commented on a post once, and it was to say “wtf is this” to one of Hange’s many posts.

I headcannon that he both is a dry texter and texts like a dad.

“You coming to the party tonight?” -Jean

“👍”

“You free to come help me out this evening?” -Eren

“Sure thing sport.”

Also frequently leaves texts on “seen” and “delivered.”

Sasha and Connie convinced him to download SnapChat in order to send him all the filtered pictures they’d taken of him at his place of work.

Levi secretly saved them.

Has ever only used text-to-speech once. He hated it.

“Send Eyebrows a damn message. I’ll be there by 5pm. Okay, send. What- Why didn’t it send? I’m driving I can’t- Oi, get the fuck out of the left lane if you’re gonna go 5 under the speed limit! Shitty drivers…Oi, Siri? Siri, quit texting my fucking words and sand the damn message.”

He needs help but he’s trying.

[ameliapples]

I see people on other platforms talking about cohost going down and I generally see the same few complaints being trotted out over and over as the reasons why it failed and was doomed to fail from the start. "It kept logging me out", "there was no app", "my timeline was always dead", "I got so little engagement", "I had to wait how long before I could post??". It's the stuff people have complained about with the platform forever, and while I think these complaints are generally a bit silly, they do arrive at what's probably the real reason we're all mourning the impending death of eggbug without realizing it.

A big part of what made cohost so different from other social media platforms is that it was the only platform where you had to actually want to be there. Every other platform is basically designed to hold you at gunpoint and force your attention and engagement 24/7. The gun in this situation being mostly fomo - everything is happening so rapidly, there's so much to keep track of, what if you miss something? what if it's something really big and you don't tweet about it within the first 5 minutes of it happening? what if you miss the next Main Character? there's a new one every day and they're forgotten as quickly as they arrive, but a month from now someone's gonna bring it up as a joke and you won't get it and you'll look lame and cringe! you don't want to look Lame and also Cringe, do you?

cohost never felt that way. If you were there, it was because you genuinely wanted to be. The site was designed to ensure that, even. You had to wait about a week after you made an account to ensure you weren't a spam bot before you could post at all. Once you could post, there was no algorithm. None. Nothing was fed into your feed that wasn't directly posted to a tag you follow or a person you follow. If you wanted to see something outside of that, you'd have to do the legwork browsing tags yourself. For budgetary reasons, there was never an app, so you had to either learn to set up a shortcut icon on your phone or else open it manually in a browser. It also logged you out every 30 days as a privacy and security measure. You had to want to jump through all these hoops to use cohost.

And what did you get for doing the effort? Peace. A social media environment that didn't feel like you were constantly stood in the center of Time Square with all the noise and marquees and heckling voices focused directly at you at all times. It didn't try to be a news site, or an advertising platform. No algorithm meant you only got what you actively chose to see, and nothing more. You could say in your head "lemme check cohost real quick", and you could be up-to-date on your timeline in under 5 minutes. It was a place you would willingly go to check in on friends or look at cool art or play around with html like it was 2004 again, not get sucked into for hours doom scrolling. Because there was no algorithm, no push for engagement, no numbers that publicly went up, no one was competing for attention or clout. No one I ever met on cohost was immediately antagonistic, or rude, or trying to dunk someone. People were chill, FRIENDLY even, in a way I have never seen on twitter or tumblr even back in "the good ol days". The adversarial, cliquey, petty nonsense we all expect from social media was almost entirely absent. It was peaceful, quiet. It was the only social media platform I've used to not give me anxiety, or a migraine.

So of course it fell apart. We live in a world where things require money to simply exist, and cohost was designed basically not to make any by virtue of having virtues. It refused to advertise, sell user data in any way, open a weird shop where you can put microscopic pngs next to your name, or force people's worst impulses in order to keep them on the site for as long as possible. It ran off merch purchases and cohost plus, which was meant to give you premium features but never got the chance to do much more than upping your file size limit on uploads. It was essentially a $5 a month donation. It wasn't enough, clearly.

So now it's going, but I don't really think saying it "failed" is right. If anything, it's made it clear what a failure the rest of the social media ecosystem is. Usually when a platform is dying, or looks to be dying (in the case of twitter, or tumblr post 2018), people immediately make plans to jump ship to a new one. But upon hearing that cohost was shutting down, my reaction, as well as that of a pretty large portion of the user base, was that we'd rather spend time on other things. Cohost was so different an atmosphere it seems to have had a healing property on people who used it. It wasn't perfect, moderation was spotty at times due to the limited staff, people had their blind spots and biases they sometimes struggled to work through. But it was better than what we've grown to expect. It made you realize how tiring the rest of the internet has become, and that you don't need to deal with it. You can better spend that time, doing things you enjoy with people you enjoy. Maybe even outside, if you can muster it. You might even meet some cool people out there, wearing cool patches, eulogizing a cool little website, with a funny lil bug shaped like an egg.

[lloyd283]

I made a Trollhunters asmr idea about Jim gaining PTSD from the other 'timeline' and claire's trying to help him.

Here you go!

[Soft spoken on a rainy night]

Hey, i came down as soon as i could. Jim, is everything okay, or 'crispy'? Can't believe i said that.

(-)

So, i hear you can't sleep recently, can you? Well, whilst i was babysitting enrique, i found methods to help someone sleep or calm themselves in a book. Lovely artwork, isn't it? They worked on enrique, so hopefully i can do the same with you.

[Personal attention, caring]

Jim, you seem dazed, sad and a little tense in your hands. Did Steve punch you again, that brat? I always hoped he'd become a better guy, but only assistance may make that happen.

Right, just going to check your head like your mother does. Yeah, a fever like head and slightly faster heart rate. Everything else seems fine. We can rule out steve. Next is, a, massage. I hate doing this.

Could i check your arms and lower legs please. They are tense. Think of your phone, but the metal is your body. May i remove your jacket for a back and shoulder massage?

"Jim so owes me a massage one day, this is tiring." Not even that?

Wait, i heard you run at night in the forest from your mother, who's concerned. Is it because of your dirty trainers? I know how to shoe shine myself often, given i wear these boots often or in the 90%s of the time, or my trainers for gym class, heck i sleep sometimes in them (s3 e4)

Little fun fact: i had to make my own trainers with specialist help because i didn't like the concept of laces and not being able to lace any up or trainers in general. You could say a forger helped me.

Not even a nose boop? Why can't you tell me what's wrong.

[Claire, I'm remembering a reality which i rewrote and I'm panicking. Forgive me, I'm going outside.]

Jim, wait! Jim, it's slinging it down and I've no umbrella on me as my parents took them for tonight. I'm soaked, your soaked, could you please come inside.

[I know you believe me to be a kind fearless person but this, this is scaring me. In the other reality, i punched steve to protect my friends. I became a Trollhunter and battled trolls and monsters. Enrique was taken, and i risked everything to bring him back. I almost lost you and you almost lost me. My dad abandoned me, so my mentor became my father figure. You had shadow magic that almost killed you, claire but you were fierce and great. Douxie and merlin called you fair, and no one knows who that dress in the muesum belonged to. Toby died defeating a titan and i had to rewrite the story. I'm afraid that despite passing it to toby, it'll all happen again. And i don't want to lose anyone else!]

Jim, your mantle you had made you who you are today. It ain't that far fetched, i thought i remembered things in my dreams. Drew in my book. I love you, here and there, I'd change nothing if i could. Someone once told me, you aren't alone for someone else is feeling like you.

[Kiss]

We're soaked so much, it feels weird, but it feels good kissing you out here. I wouldn't mind kissing a while longer.

[More kissing, passionate in a way] [sitting under porch about 15 minutes later with a baby monitor app on her phone and a blanket covering them. Claire has her head on Jim's shoulder]

[You're the best thing that's happened to me, apart from probably Toby's support.]

Heh. That's about right.

[You're a fantastic girl you know and we're lucky to have each other]

Awwwwww, jim.

[lovesick-boyz]

hi.

well… after being stalked and harassed for the past couple of months, i am finally back!! stay tuned lol i got some fics lined up for y’all 😁

anyway if you read that first line and thought to yourself “WTF?!?”, here is the full story for my curious readers (just a warning, it’s long and i rant a lot):

a couple of months ago, i started getting tagged by random accs on tiktok and insta that posted vids accusing me of the most random and heinous shit. honestly, it just baffled me the first time i saw them bc they made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

when the first ones popped up, i just blocked them thinking it was a random troll and went on with my life.

but then i kept getting spammed by other accs with new posts where they not only involved me but also my friends, and accused us as a friend group of being horrible ppl.

i had enough (i can’t even remember how many accs i blocked) and deleted ALL my social media apps for a while (i.e. more than a couple of months, oops) and basically isolated myself from ppl so that i could focus on other things to distract me (i ended up making daily exercise a habit so ig that’s one good thing that’s come out of this lol, i also rewatched all the marvel movies in timeline order hehe). i wish i continued writing so i could’ve at least had more content to share by now, but i was feeling so negative and pissed that i couldn’t even bring myself to write anything (i even uninstalled notion from my phone and that’s where i keep all my drafts and fic ideas)

i only found out the full situation less than a week ago when i reinstalled tiktok bc i missed it, only to find more burner accs harassing me. i finally had enough so i reinstalled insta to rant about it on my spam acc for my friends to see and to my surprise a couple of them knew who it was and explained the whole situation to me.

it was my first time interacting with ppl outside of my family in months lol, when i tell y’all i isolated myself i really did mean it 🙃 my irl friends didn’t even know anything out of the ordinary was happening bc i’m notorious in my friend group for going off the grid for months at a time bc of how bad my mental health gets sometimes, they know to just let me be and let me deal with it alone bc they understand that’s how i work best. (they won’t see this bc they don’t know this tumblr exists but i wanna apologise to my dear friends for my disappearing acts, my bad, i love y’all for being so understanding and still being my friend after all this time 🫶🏼)

anyway, it turns out the culprit was this guy that my friend had rejected previously and he’s so bitter and hateful that he decided to harass me bc he knew i was one of her bffs (the ppl he targeted were the ones in her closest friend group which included me)

but here’s the kicker: I’VE ONLY TALKED TO THIS GUY TWICE!! AND EACH TIME WE TALKED FOR LESS THAN 5 MINS ABOUT IRRELEVANT SHIT!!! WHY AM I INVOLVED?? YOU DON’T KNOW ME!!!!

when my friend found out she was so surprised and appalled that he was harassing me too, bc him, my friend, and the other ppl he targeted all go to the same college together (and i’m the only one in the friend group that goes to a different college, so to reiterate once again: this guy barely knows me! the last time we spoke was at my friends bday party 3 years ago!! he’s literally insane!)

she knew he was harassing my other friends since they’re all in the same school and know him in person, she didn’t think i would be involved too and i couldn’t believe i was.

anyway, i just wanted to rant about this whole thing bc i’m having a hard time processing it tbh. i hope that guy rots in hell and also finds a job there bc he was acting hella unemployed like who has time for this? he made me feel so confused and paranoid for weeks and i hope he gets all the karma he deserves in the universe.

y’all wanna know something funny tho? i started writing a changmin stalker fic in june, way before this whole situation happened. life imitates art ig 🤪 anyway i finally finished it and i’m gonna release that fic next after i fine tune it, at least now it’ll be somewhat realistic lmaoooo

[dragonsarecool]

June of Doom Day 10 - Phone Call

A/N: Marty finds history repeating itself as he has to save the day once again…at age forty-seven. Set during the good timeline in 2015.

His shoulders sagged with annoyance as he set his guitar aside, his peaceful living room now disturbed by the godawful ringtone his kids had set up for him. "What now?!"

The irritation quickly faded, however, when Marty saw the caller ID and realised what time it was. "Junior?"

That's odd.

That's really odd.

Junior never calls…he's one of those kids who has to text everything.

Aw shit, was I supposed to do the school pick-up today?!

No hang on, it's Tuesday. They do the bus on Tuesday. So why isn't he home yet? It's after four thirty!

Realising he should probably answer the phone instead of staring at it, Marty tapped the screen and put it on speaker. "Kid, did you forget to tell me about another tutoring session, or-"

"DAD!" Junior blurted out, seemingly out of breath. "Dad, oh my God…please! HELP!"

"Junior?" Marty's mind was buzzing with a thousand questions, though he tried to push aside the initial confusion and uneasiness. "Junior, wh-what's going on?" He's never sounded this scared before…

"Dad, p-please! T-They're too…fast…for me!"

"Who?! What's going on, kid?!" Marty couldn't help the panic rising in his voice. "Talk to me, Junior!"

"Dad, Dad he-mmph!"

Junior's voice disintegrated into unintelligible mumbles, with the unmistakable sounds of a struggle sending chills down Marty's spine. "Junior! Junior, what's going on?"

The audio cracked as Junior's phone seemingly tumbled out of his grasp and slammed into the ground. Marty could hear muffled screams in the background, as well as a few people laughing and jeering. "Junior, are you there?!"

"What the hell is this?" A young male voice sneered through the phone. "Awww, did you try ringing daddy to come and get you? How lame is this butthead?!"

Butthead?

I knew that voice was familiar. "Griff!"

"Sorry, but, uh, McFly can't come to the phone right now. He's a bit wound up at the moment!" Griff mocked, laughing hysterically before hanging up.

It's 'tied up', you dork! That's what all the kidnappers on TV say!

The older McFly ran a wrinkled hand through his ever-thinning hair, biting back a barrage of curses he wanted to unleash. Why didn't he just call the police?! Why ring me first?

A grim part of him already knew the answer. The police don't care about dealing with Tannens.

And I was so hoping both of the kids wouldn't get caught up in this 'rivalry' bullshit…

He carefully placed his guitar back in its stand before snatching his keys from the dining table, racing to the car with a bigger stride than what he thought he could achieve at his age. Been a while since we've had a McFly-Tannen showdown…

****

At first, he'd been confused when Marlene had tried to introduce him to the Find My Friends app. "How does this thing find you friends? Don't you have to talk to people for that?"

"Dad, that's not what it means-"

"Well, what's the point of it then?!"

"Dad, it's just called Find My Friends. It's a tracking app, not a social media."

"And what exactly does it track?"

"You, us, Mom; whatever you want to track, really, but most people use it to track their family members and stuff."

Sounds a bit stalker-ish, but whatever. "Can't I just…email you if I need to know where you are?"

"First of all, Dad, that's texting, not email," Marlene rolled her eyes. "And it's so you can track us without having to talk to us."

"…So if you guys aren't back by curfew, I can see if you've been kidnapped or whatever?"

Marlene nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."

He wished he hadn't used those exact words, but as he pulled into a parking space outside his old high school, he was now grateful for the newfound knowledge. The crisp evening air made his body involuntarily tremble once he left the cosiness of his Toyota, and he pulled the collar of his turtleneck sweater up further. No wonder the place is deserted, it's frickin' freezing out here.

Okay, so the phone reckons he's still near the school, so they must've grabbed him just after class finished. Marty tried to zoom in on the app, only to curse quietly as he accidentally closed the map. Screw this technology crap; I'll have to rely on old-fashioned detective work.

If I was an asshole, where would I hide my victim?…

The high school and its surroundings had barely changed in the thirty years since he'd graduated, still retaining the dated brick exterior and faded basketball courts. And while it meant his kids complained about how 'ancient' the place was, it also meant all of the nooks and crannies he used to employ to rid himself of Needles still existed.

He found himself strolling through a particular section of the car park that seemed oddly familiar, and he couldn't quite put his finger on why; at his age, all the memories he had of this place tended to blend into a murky haze that he had trouble deciphering.

It wasn't until he gazed at the nearby gymnasium from a certain angle that it clicked; this parking spot was where his father had laid Biff out sixty years prior. Although the lines had been repainted and the nearby trees uprooted, it was enough to give him a fresh wave of deja vu. And that's where the Packard was…and the band's car…Damn, this is heavy.

A faint chorus of laughter caught his attention, pulling him out of the spiral of memories. He listened for a moment before following the sound, fists poised in his pockets in case they were needed. Following the sound took him to the far corner of the school grounds, where the barbed wire fence disappeared and a gate to the maintenance sheds awaited him. The laughter grew louder as he passed through the gate, passing by a collection of narrow alleyways littered with graffiti and overflowing rubbish bins. This must be where Needles did all that crack-

A familiar chuckle startled him, as did the voice. "What, you think you could say no to us?!"

Swallowing nervously, Marty hesitantly peeked his head around the nearest alley corner, his jaw falling open at the sight. Holy shit! Junior!

If he hadn't seen what Junior had been wearing that morning, Marty wasn't sure he could've identified him. His son was thoroughly surrounded by four teenagers who obscured most of his body; all Marty could confirm from this angle was that his hands were restrained behind him, and that Griff was struggling with him in a headlock.

Marty found himself marching down the alleyway without taking the time to think of a plan or an escape route, and he decided he didn't care. This ends now. "HEY!"

His glare softened as the group of teenagers parted at the sound of his voice, allowing him to finally make eye contact with his son. Junior's right eye was now a black and bloodied mess, which complimented the bruise forming along his jawline. A dried trickle of blood extended from one of his nostrils, which Marty prayed wasn't from a broken nose.

The final straw that made his blood boil, however, was seeing the piece of bloodied tape firmly pressed over Junior's mouth. T-This isn't bullying! This is borderline murder!

"Do you bastards mind getting off my kid?!" Marty growled. Hang in there, buddy-

Griff looked up, his expression rapidly changing as he eyed Marty and gave him a disrespectful smirk. "Hey, piss off, you old fart! This don't concern you!" He grunted rudely, releasing the headlock and roughly pulling Junior's head back by the hair. The Tannen sniggered heartlessly at the muffled cry of pain from his captive. "Hey dork, looks like your grandpa is gonna come save you! How pathetic is that?!"

The other teenagers joined Griff in a chorus of mocking laughter, gripping Junior's body tightly as he made a fresh but weak struggle against them, eyes pleading for Marty to intervene.

The senior McFly's composure stiffened as he stormed towards Griff, fists ready at his sides. "For the record, Tannen, I'm his father." How old these assholes think I am?!

"Phhf! We're just having a bit of 'fun' with McFly here, aren't we?" Griff moved Junior's head in a nodding motion, grinning sadistically as the smaller boy gave a pained expression. "See? No need for you to hang around, old man."

Time to try this old nugget again. "Yeah, it's all good fun and shit, Griff, but you're forgetting one thing. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"

Falling for the bait, Griff turned his head away long enough for Marty pull his arm back and launch his knuckles directly into the young Tannen's jugular. All four teenagers lost their grip on Junior as Griff tumbled backwards into the alleyway wall, head cracking loudly against the bricks. "GAHH!"

Predictably, Griff's 'friends' took one look at Marty before they instantly turned on their heels and sprinted down the alleyway at a speed that would've rivalled the best Olympians, stumbling as they glanced back in fear of Marty pursuing.

Marty used the opportunity to swoop in and grab Griff by the collar, his eyes ablaze with fury as he prayed this would be the last time he had to be this close to one of Biff's relatives. "I thought I told you dumbasses to get off my kid?"

"M-Message received, loud and clear, McFly," Griff stuttered, the macho persona having evaporated completely. "P-Perfectly-"

Marty wasn't satisfied. He lowered his voice for dramatic effect, praying that it would work for him as it did for Clint Eastwood. "Do I need to make sure the police hear about this? I'm sure they'd love to put you down for kidnapping, assault…might even be able to get you for attempted murder."

The remaining colour in Griff's face evaporated "N-No sir, n-no need n-needed-"

"This isn't gonna happen again, is it?" Marty lifted a finger for emphasis, pointing towards Junior. "Or do I need to have a talk with your old man about how much of a gutless chicken his son is, picking on smaller men than him?"

"N-No, Mister McFly, i-it won't-"

"Good talk, Tannen. Water under the bridge already," Marty casually let go of the teenager's collar, watching with amusement as he scrambled away like a frightened chicken, disappearing around the opposite corner to where his goons had fled. "Say hi to your pop for me!"

The older man let out a quiet chuckle as he cradled his hand. God, that stings more than I remember. Still worth it though.

"Mmmhmm!"

Oh crap! "Junior!"

Marty made a dash to his son's side, ignoring the protests of his ageing joints as he knelt on the ground. He grabbed him under the armpits and hauled Junior into a sitting position, his heart breaking as he saw the mistiness brewing in his son's eyes. "Hey hey hey, bud, it's okay. It's all over, those bastards are gone."

His eyes were drawn to the ugly piece of black tape sealing Junior's lips shut, and he suddenly remembered the last time he'd come home with a suspiciously-red face. "Is this how they've been beating you?"

Junior sniffed quietly and nodded, eyes cast downward in shame.

I guess it's easier than holding him down, but still… "Geez, what a creep," Marty growled. "Maybe I should tell his dad that Griff's got a thing for bondage and see how well that goes down."

His spirits lifted as Junior gave him a muffled laugh. Good to know his sense of humour is still intact. "Right, let's get all of this of you."

He forced his fingernails underneath the adhesive and ripped it away before Junior had time to blink. Marty cringed as his son groaned, as well as the reveal of red, raw skin around Junior's mouth. Good thing he hasn't grown any facial hair yet. "Did they hurt you anywhere else?"

The younger McFly took a moment to regain his voice, stretching his newly-freed jaw. "…Holy shit, Dad! That was amazing!" Junior's face was alight with admiration. "I didn't know you could fight like that!"

He was surprised at his son's reaction, though he kept that thought private as he inspected the ropes binding Junior's hands. I only punched him once, but still… "Givin' your old man some credit, huh?" Marty quipped. "Told you I used to be good."

"That was so cool though!" Junior shifted his position, making it easier for Marty to reach the knots. "I've never seen Griff act like a whimp before!"

As heartwarming as it was to have his son praise him, Marty decided it was time for answers. "What happened, Junior? Why'd they gang up on you like that?"

Junior gazed numbly at his lap, cheeks blushing as red as his jacket. "Um, well…that's kinda the second time today they've jumped me-"

"What?! Junior, what's-"

"It was in-between classes! T-They wanted me to help them with this 'heist' or whatever. Said they'd make it 'worth my while'," Junior blurted out bitterly.

This is sounding awfully familiar. "…And I'm guessing you said no?"

"Yeah. I, uh, I-I told them to go to hell the first time, a-and to leave me alone the second, but, uh," Junior shrugged his shoulders, gesturing at his current predicament. "They, uh, didn't like those answers."

So even in this timeline, he says no! That's my boy! Marty allowed himself a private smile before voicing his thoughts. "You mean, Griff didn't like your answers."

Junior blinked for a moment. "Oh. Yeah. His friends didn't say much about it; it was all him."

Marty shook his head, muttering as he fumbled with the knots. "They never change…"

"Who?"

"Biff. Needles. Griff. Despite the age gaps, they're all the same: cowardly idiots who use intimidation and violence to get people to do what they want," Marty explained. "Even in my workplace there's a few guys like that, though we don't go fighting each other like teenagers."

"So there's always gonna be people like them?!" Junior's voice carried a hint of despair. "Then what's the point?"

"The point is," Marty undid the last of his son's bonds, shoving the coil of rope into his pocket, "that you stood up to them. You didn't let them bully you into something you didn't wanna do. And I'm proud."

Junior stopped scratching the rope burns on his wrists, gazing at his father in surprise. "R-Really?"

"Really."

"B-But I couldn't fight them off! I-"

"Physical strength doesn't matter when it comes to bullies, Junior," Marty said gently, tilting Junior's face towards him. "They may be able to physically beat you, yes, but the one thing they cannot fight against is a victim who won't play along with their delusions. That's how your Grandpa George manage to win against Biff, Griff's dad, despite having the muscles the size of a twig. And it surprised the bastard enough to stay off of dad's back for good."

Geez, do I sound like a preacher or what?

Junior thought quietly for a few moments before nodding his understanding. "…T-Thanks again, Dad. F-For saving me."

"All good, kid. Just you wait until Grandpa George and I pay Griff and his dad a visit," Marty snickered, groaning as he hoisted himself and Junior up from the freezing pavement. "He'll be sorry he ever even looked at you."

Junior adjusted his cap before giving his father a questioning look. "Are you gonna kick his ass too?"

"Who? Biff?"

"Yeah!"

Marty snickered, his thoughts taking him back to the night of the Under the Sea Dance. "Nah. We broke his nose once and that was more than enough."

"Wait, seriously?!"

Shit. Probably shouldn't have said that. He shrugged off his overcoat and tucked Junior's shivering form into it. "Come on, kiddo. Let's get you cleaned up and get some ice for that eye, and then you can help me figure out which chord progression to use for this song I'm workin' on."

"Sweet!…But how the hell did you break his nose?!"

Marty wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders, pulling him in fondly. "I'll tell you when you're older, Junior."

You're gonna need a few drinks to make sense of it all, anyway.

[engagemachine]

This is totally random but can you imagine Taylor doing a cute little tik tok about an outfit she really likes because she sees videos like that all the time, and the Joker sees men commenting on her video, would he make her take it down?

Um, first of all, OMG. This ask has been living rent-free in my brain ALL FREAKING DAY. I couldn't wait to come home to answer it.

Secondly, it hadn’t really ever occurred to me that Taylor might have a TikTok, mostly because I imagine the timeline of Burn to be like, idk… 2010? Maybe? I don’t ever specify the year because I don’t want to pigeonhole myself in a box in terms of what I can reference in regards to the media and with regard to current events -- and ultimately it's not terribly important to the plot, anyway....

but for the sake of this headcanon, we'll say Taylor does have a TikTok, mostly because our baby girl just wants to be SEEN, okay, so her very first video is a little try-on video of some really cute outfit she's thrifted -- she's so proud of her thrift store finds -- and she posts the video and is so excited every time she receives a notification for a comment. Her heart gives an excited little pulse as she opens the notification...

Some of the comments are from other girls. "OMG SO cute" and "love it", but then she's biting down on her lip and her cheeks are flushing when she reads the comments from men -- usually much older ones, if their pictures are anything to go by.

Some of the comments are pretty benign. "Pretty" and "beautiful young lady" and "whats your snap" -- but some of the comments are a lot more detailed. More graphic.

In the video, she's spinning to show off her new skirt, and in one comment she's told to take off her panties next time, then bend over. Another comment says, "tight little body" and, to her mortification, another that simply reads, "so fuckable". She reads further down the list, feeling horrified -- ashamed -- as more comment notifications ping on her phone. "wanna lick you from top to bottom", "fucking tease. she knows what she's doing", and "saving this for later" with a yellow 'thumbs up' emoji.

It sends a flurry of emotions fluttering in her tummy. Nathan had always told her she was ugly -- worthless -- and only Mr. J had ever really made her feel special. Pretty.

But now all these other men are complimenting her, too, and she doesn't really know how to feel about it. A part of her is secretly -- maybe horrifically -- a little pleased. But another much bigger part of her feels disgusted with herself. She hadn't meant to show off her body. She hadn't meant to do anything, really, she just thought her outfit was cute. Is it so bad to have wanted that? To want to be seen?

Later, she lies in bed curled up on her side, reading every comment under the safety of the covers, just in case Mr. J walks in. She doesn't want him to see. He'd be so angry if he knew.

The comments trickle in slowly over a period of a few more days. The video has a little over a thousand views, which Taylor thinks is a lot, especially for a first video.

But then, a few days later, the video is abruptly gone, and she realizes she's been locked of her account.

"What the heck?" she murmurs, once again tucked under the warm cavern of her covers, even though Mr. J isn't home and probably won't be for a few hours.

She sits up in bed, untangling herself from the sheets. Her face is shrouded in the white light from her phone as she retypes her password, five times and then seven, before finally searching for her account on the app, but it's gone. Like it was never even there.

She pouts about it for the whole next day. She had 143 followers, which isn't a lot, but she was thinking about posting more videos, and now she can't unless she makes another account, and what's the point now that all of her followers are gone? She'd have to start all over from scratch.

Mr. J notices her sour mood after a whole day of sulking around the house, because of course he notices. He corners her in the hallway during the late afternoon. The TV's on in the living room, a quiet murmur, and blades of orange sunlight slice through the half-opened blinds, long tiger stripes stretching across the carpet. Taylor tries to move past Mr. J -- not in the mood to talk -- but he grips her by her chin, his long fingers digging into her jaw as he forces her to look at him.

"Not that I'm uh, not enjoying this sweet, pouty little face of yours," he says, his thumb briefly stroking along the line of her jaw, "but what's got my girl's panties in such a twist? Hm?"

Taylor flushes, knowing that she can't explain. "It's nothing," she says, looking away, because it's so hard to lie to him.

Mr. J's brows arch into his hairline, which would almost be comical if she weren't toeing the borderline of fear. There's no way she's getting out of this without telling him. He always gets his way.

"Doesn't seem like nothing," he says. "Seems like a whole lot of something."

Taylor reaches up with both hands to try to pry his hand off her face, but he doesn't budge, only grips tighter, briefly smushing her cheeks together with his fingers.

"Alright!" she cries.

He releases his grip, but only slightly.

"Alright," she says again, this time softer. "It's just... I posted a video, okay? On--online, and it got taken down and I don't know why! I didn't even do anything wrong."

She pauses to take a breath, then nervously glances up into Mr. J's black, steely eyes.

"A video," he says, almost a question, but not quite. His expression is eerily calm. Unreadable. Taylor squirms under his gaze, wishing he'd let go of her jaw already, which is starting to ache.

"I was just trying on clothes. It wasn't anything like--"

"You were trying on clothes?" he repeats, interrupting her, and Taylor feels a lightning bolt of fear splice through her.

"No!" she cries. "I mean, I--I was, but I wasn't naked. I was already dressed. I was just--just showing off my outfit. That's all, Mr. J, I swear--"

"And what exactly were you, uh--" he pauses to work his mouth, his tongue briefly snaking out to wet his lower lip, "hoping to gain out of 'showing off'?"

Taylor swallows nervously, her eyes darting back and forth between his. The sun in the living room window behind him has dipped lower, and those tiger stripes elongate even further across the carpet, stretching all the way until Taylor can feel the warmth of the beams on her bare toes.

"Daddy isn't paying enough attention to you, is that it?" he says, before Taylor has a chance to answer. "You felt like you had to go online -- when I veeeery ex-plic-it-ly told you not to -- to parade yourself around for everyone to see? For everyone to see what's mine?"

Taylor whimpers, because he's squeezing her jaw and cheeks so hard it hurts.

"I--I'm so sorry, Mr. J. It wasn't like that," she whimpers. "I didn't think--"

"No," he agrees. "You didn't." She stares at him, trembling, and watches his nostrils flare. His gaze is somewhere behind her--just for a moment--just long enough for her to know he's eyeing the mussed sheets of their empty bed through the open door of their bedroom. "Well," he says, after a long, loaded pause, allowing his dark eyes to settle back on her, "if it's attention you're after, daddy'll give it to you."

Suddenly, he shoves her backwards--still holding onto her, so she doesn't fall--as he forces her to stumble backwards into their bedroom. His eyes are dangerous. Feral. "Daddy'll give you plenty."

[uhlavender]

hey, hope youve been well! i had some dream or hunch or something to post this now. i'm sorry for the big delay, but maybe a monthly cadence is a good rhythm..? not sure. but i feel its best we should respond when we're most comfortable and not asap. my summer's been great so far. i think in general things have been great and i hope i can maintain this momentum! i forgot if i mentioned this last time, but i switched to a new medication and it's been very good so far. how was your switch?

if you have trouble journaling, you could try an app called daylio. i initially used it to only track my mood because im bipolar, but later down the line i started using its journal features. it reminds you every 8pm to do an entry. back then id only mark my mood, but during good times i would write down something. now everyday i write something and attach photos. it has cool features, you should give it a shot. once you reach a high number, you just want to maintain the streak. journaling really helps me maintain my mindfulness and be grateful. it also helps me reflect on progress and remind me how things change even though i sometimes don't feel it.

i believe in second chances too. there were times i wanted second chances. if i feel i should get a second chance, i should give others that opportunity as well. people are able to change and mistakes can be made when emotions are high. i think it's good that you know what you like/need though and you should always stand for it.

random thought but i saw the film 'Talk to Me' recently and it was super good, i highly recommend it. it's a horror flick though, but i feel it has great ideas and themes. other films i've seen this year was the new spiderman and barbie. those are like near perfect films to me lol.

anyway ill leave it at that and keep it shorter than usual. i feel we've been trying to match the energy of previous messages, and maybe it's gone quite lengthy (i take fault for that lol). might as well trim it now!

Hey Anon,

I'm sorry for responding so late. I'm gonna start putting down dates and times from now on so as to keep track for art's sake. You wrote this message on September 4th, 2023, 1:23 PM.

I read the message you sent me in November 2024 too. Responding to this one first so maybe you can read about this little time capsule from when you felt differently. Do you still use Daylio? I've been journaling more lately too. Mostly about anger, sadness, and grief but I hope to take myself on more self dates in the future. Just bring a book and a journal and have a nice meal somewhere. Journal more and learn to love my own company with no phone in sight.

On second chances: I think they must be earned, and I also don't think you owe anyone second chances. That's up to you and your own boundaries. People can grow but you don't have to stick around for it because you feel bad. I would hate for someone to stick around me because they felt pity or something like that. Not saying that's what you're saying, I'm just extrapolating.

I have to be honest, I'm not in the best of moods right now. The reason why I stopped replying for (wow) one and a half years is because I was going through a breakup late 2023. In 2024, I went through another painful breakup, and I just ended another 1.5 year relationship 2.5 weeks ago, which I'm still hurting from. (The timeline is confusing bc I tried doing polyamory)

It's been rough on my heart to say the least. But I'm committing to singlehood and reinvesting in myself and my friendships. I will become my own favorite person, and treat myself the way I'd want to be treated by friends and lovers, so as to attract that kind of love too. It's been lonely though, I have to be real. And heartbreaking when I found out my most recent ex went on a date a week after we broke up. Somewhere deep down I hope he realizes he fumbled, and how unfair of a relationship it was to me. I put in 80% of the effort, and basically carried our relationship, as I believed each empty promise, and fought for us on my own (he can attest). It was a slow painful dissipation of let down after let down. He made me feel really hard to love. Lol. He literally went on his phone and started replying to messages DURING our breakup convo. It completely confirmed I was making the right choice but wow was it brutal to see right after I told him I felt he couldn't prioritize me. Funny how he proved me right one last time. (I hear you universe, I got the memo!!!)

But I am cementing many lessons. (some for the nth time..)

I am so lovable as I am. I don't need to prove it or beg to be seen, known, and loved.

Curiosity and consideration are the foundation of love

Invest in people the amount they invest in you

Believe actions over words

Pay attention to your gut

No emotion is illogical. Get curious about yourself first and foremost.

How people treat you is a reflection of them. How you react is a reflection of you.

You accept the love you think you deserve

A good partner *wants* to show up for you

All the things you want from friends and lovers are things you should do for yourself. Get used to the standard you set for yourself. This way, you wouldn't accept anything below that standard.

De-center men. Prioritize true friendships over romance.

People can only meet you as deeply as they've met themselves.

If you are actively working on your growth and healing and you're with someone who is NOT prioritizing inner healing, they will slow you down and you will feel like a mother and therapist.

If you feel yourself dimming your self expressions and interests bc of your partner, investigate that.

Someone who really loves you will always make time for you

Only let ppl into your inner circle if they actually improve you and your life

A short term relationship is a drug, a long term relationship is a mirror. Not everyone can face themselves in the mirror. That's not your fault.

This is all I can think of right now, as I am currently sick and stressed, working on my thesis and juggling many things such as loneliness and friendship heartbreak. But I hope this was at least entertaining. I know I will look back on this and think, "Oh Belle, you were really hurting but oh how you've grown. I am so proud of you."

[coccyodynia]

things:

this one is gonna be all over the place bc there's a lot of things i haven't dealt with yet or even acknowledged but i need to do something with them so weird tumblr post it is!

i haven't slept well in months for a number of reasons (ornery cat, back pain etc) and its really catching up to me

my health is still very much in flux but i am very very broke and cannot afford my health insurance and/or co-pays so i've basically stopped pursuing any kind of treatment/appointments for now, just trying to deal with the pain as much as i can :/

i am still without a dayjob and thats gonna become a problem very quickly :/

im getting back into the habit of making art on a more regular or consistent basis, which i am happy about!!

since i quit my job i've had a noticeable improvement in my moods, overall outlook and depression symptoms. a lot of people around me (therapist, parents, grandma, friends) have made comments about how they've noticed this

i've been working really hard on my coping skills and other inner-work to improve my life and relationships and it's really working i think, so i'm happy about that

my apartment is looking a lot better, usually when my depression/moods are really bad my kitchen becomes pretty much unusable, but since i've been more free to focus on things in my life i've been keeping it cleaner and i'm happy about that too

the semester started a few weeks ago, and im enjoying my class/students! im really excited about the rest of the semester and to see what my students make

i had a tarot reading that kind of blew my mind last weekend and i'm still sort of reeling from it tbh

she spoke a lot about my inner turmoil and the past, and being content with a found family (at least that's how i interpreted it) in my future, while having a strong support system presently

interestingly she never said much of anything at all about relationships outside of that, which i took to heart

i've sort of always believed i would never have a life partner/long-term relationship, but instead the universe would continue passing people through my life on timelines appropriate to how these relationships serve me

i think people like lillian and kym will always be around for sure, but my life has shown a pretty consistent pattern of people being introduced to my life at a time when i desperately needed someone and slowly removing them from my life when i learned what i needed to learn (mannie, reid, michael, justin, henry, so on and so forth)

i know that this is what's happening with justin and on one hand i'm understanding of that, on the other hand i'm very upset about it

i really dont know where he and i stand right now, he's in a new job and trying to spend more time with his kid, so he's less available to talk/hang

it really hurts, because he really did save my life in some form or fashion, and to have that comforting presence slowly disappear has been incredibly difficult

i've really been avoiding talking about this with anyone, like my therapist and closest friends because i am not sure how i will handle the grief once i let myself really accept it/deal with it

last night Lil asked me "how are things with justin?" and i gave some weird vague response like "not sure, i'll tell you when i figure it out"

her followup question, after a slight pause, was: "are you okay?"

i had to laugh because obviously no i'm not okay with this but i dont have a choice, so i'm handling it as well as i can - but i told lil that i probably am not handling it as well as i should

i got very drunk the other night and had an incredibly bad time, sobbing hysterically and screaming basically, bc i am so tired of people just coming and going from my life

my notes app on my phone is just full of one-liners about this bullshit and i feel like a stereotype, moreso than usual

one-liners include:

"people would rather leave than extend the grace i offered them from the start"

"it only hits me sometimes, but i feel it every fucking day"

"found rotten at the root, i am being picked clean"

"people just move on, they move on and forward at a clip and im still here - still here still here still here - no matter how far i move, im still stuck here"

so im not in a great headspace about all of this

but i am at least doing better handling it than i might have been 6 months ago tbh

literally anyway...

last night i had a dream that featured reid and erin and cobb

we used to be the 'dream team' back in high school & college

the dream was weird and i don't fully remember the plot but i do remember waking up very sad and confused

i dont associate with them at all anymore and that might be for the best

but somehow reid keeps coming up in my dreams, i had one the other week where they asked me "is this separation working for you? it's not working for me" basically asking to come back into my life

my response in the dream was "i dont think about you at all anymore" which isn't entirely true obviously, but i've definitely moved on quite a bit

it's almost exactly 2 years since they left my life (sept 24), so i'm sure that's why this is coming up in my dreams

but that also means it's been almost exactly 2 years since i last self harmed (oct 3) and i'm glad about that

when i reached 1 year clean from SH back in 2022 i told justin that i wasn't sure who to talk to about it, since the person i usually told was the reason it happened in the first place

and justin was very very supportive, kind and reassuring

i'm really sad that i'm not sure he would be anymore

i have a little more capacity to handle these kinds of things now that ive quit my job that made me suicidal

but i still want to have that extra support, extra care and i don't know how to have that need met, if that makes sense

idk im just low-key sad underneath everything and all of the progress i've made. its just that im not using drugs or self-medicating to deal with it

idk bye

[luxsocialite]

Ways to reset for the new year!

Hello everyone!

2022 is just around the corner (thank God) and I want all of us to have very fun, happy, healthy and productive year.

So here are 10 ways we can reset and refresh for the new year:

1. Plan your year:

Start with a fresh notebook, something cute that you would love to write in all the time, and a pen.

First: design your life. What do you want your life to look like in 5 years, 10 years? What material things do you have? How much money are you making? Where are you living? How do you spend your free time? What are your hobbies? Where are you vacationing?

This video is amazing at helping you get started!

Also included in this is vision boarding especially if your a visual person. Make a collage of pictures of things you want to happen, put it as your phone/computer bg or do it on paper and put it where you will constantly see it.

2. Get your sleep schedule together

I am tired! All the time and it’s because my sleep schedule is trash lol. Definitely having a bedtime routine and sleep schedule will help with my mood levels and emotions.

Start by not using your phone in your bed because then you connect staying awake on the phone with your bed and then you’ll never sleep. Also, limit screen time after a certain time. Blue lights really aren’t conducive for sleep.

Start a night time routine. Make a sleep playlist, spray lavender spray on your pillow. Make sleeping interesting

3. Declutter

Leave everything that you don’t want following you into the new year behind. This includes clothes you haven’t worn all year, people you no longer want to associate with, texts, emails and apps you can’t be bothered with, old make up and honestly just things that don’t bring you joy (I’m in my Marie Condo era).

4. Self reflect

Going off of point one. Really ask yourself what you want from life and how you are going to get there. Recognize your coping mechanism and toxic traits, what can help you become a better you.

Therapy is great for this. I am a proponent for everyone going to therapy and working out everything with a neutral third party.

5. Start investing … in yourself

Look, I’m not about to tell you to start putting your money in the stock market because Lord knows I know nothing about stocks. But we should at least be putting any kind of money away for an emergency fund even if its $5 a month.

If you can put money in a retirement fund, the earlier you can, the better.

And not just money you need to invest. Time, emotion, etc.

Is there a business you want to start? Girl, it’s time to invest.

Beauty treatments you want? Invest

Designer items? Car? House? Relationship? Career? Experiences? It’s time to start investing in yourself

6. Show gratitude

I think it’s important to focus on the positive way more than the negative. I give myself at least 5-10 minutes a day to focus on the negativity of the day before moving on and pushing it out of my head.

I also think it’s important to write down or at least think about what I’m grateful for/what made me happy everyday.

7. Socialize

Make some time for the important people in your life. I’m not the best at texting my friends all the time. I’m a very low maintenance friend, but I do try to reach out every once and a while and keep the connection alive. We are social creatures, we are made to connect with other people.

And not just your friends, try to connect with as many people as you can. Network, be nice, you never know how that person could help you or change your life later.

8. Stop comparing yourself to others

I know this day in age, it seems like everyone is “successful” but the truth is we do not know what is going on behind closed doors or what that person had to do to get to where they are. Don’t compare yourself to others. Everyone’s timeline is different and it’s never too late.

Compare yourself to yourself. Ask yourself what you can do to become the best version of you and what you can do to have the life you want, not the life you see other people with.

9. Do more things you enjoy

If the year permits, I definitely want to travel more. Life is too short to not do things that will make me happy. I want to experience anything and everything I can, while I can still do it. That means making time and spending money on experiences.

10. Give yourself a break

Give yourself some grace. You are only human. You cannot do everything and you’re not a bad person for achieving everything in a certain timeline.

Be nice to yourself, say affirmations, build your confidence, get to know yourself, perhaps even date yourself …

And make sure you take care yourself, eat right, drink water, move your body. Don’t push yourself too hard

And remember to take a breath and live in the moment.

Happy new year!

[whysojiminimnida]

When X CALLS ME SHRIEKING ... The Sasaengs Are At It Again

So my phone went off at a quarter to ungodly because

These pictures are NOTHING LIKE what was perpetrated on Jeon Jungkook at JFK International Airport yesterday.

These pictures are okay. The press was told - WE were told - IN ADVANCE - that Jungkook would be flying out early. What day, very nearly what time, it was public knowledge and JeiKei is not upset. Video from his departure shows a bowing, happy, relaxed man.

See? He looks FINE. But by the time he landed - not in Los Angeles, as we and the press had been told - but in New York, WHICH YOU WILL PLEASE NOTE I DID NOT DISCUSS ON THIS BLOG UNTIL NOW - the sasaengs were out in force. I had not seen the photos or video at the time I started this post, although I have seen them now. Jungkook WAS NOT HAPPY IN THEM. My guy had his own security team but it apparently also took airport security to assist in getting him to his vehicle. And even then we don't know if he was followed. What I am told happened, as nearly as anyone knows, is that some folks decided to track Jungkook's flight out of Incheon and beat him to JFK. It's not hard to track flight information and given that he was rumored to have been working on a track with Charlie Puth, who is currently also in New York, it doesn't take a lot of brainpower. OR MORAL FIBER OR ETHICS. Worse, I am told, this knot of hemorrhoids was overheard TALKING ABOUT TAEKOOK. I don't know whether it was yelled at him or he overheard it personally but MAN WAS NOT HAPPY. It's not bad enough to try to follow Jungkook into his vehicle, but trying to look for evidence of a hidden Taehyung is a whole other level of inflammatory bullshit that these guys never asked for. I was asked point blank if I had discussed any information regarding Jungkook's travel plans and I was very glad to be able to say that nope, not this lowly blogger, because EVEN IF I HAD PRIVATE INFORMATION I WOULD NEVER SHARE IT. And this is why, kids. This is why. So I woke my ass up from my late afternoon nap and went to the bird app to see what I could glean from it, given X's MASSIVE SCREAMING FIT and what I found was that my personal timeline had zero information. I had to go digging a bit and there it was, a bodyguard holding Koo's M&Ms while security was getting pretty annoyed and telling supposed "ARMY" to GET BACK OFF HIM. Y'all. I saw his face and I wanted to cry. I maybe did. Jungkook was angry. He was not the same smiling, finger-heart-waving man I had seen in Incheon just hours before. He was pissed and even frightened. THIS IS NOT OKAY. ANYONE WHO TELLS YOU IT IS OKAY TO CHASE DOWN SOMEONE AND PHYSICALLY HARASS THEM IS UNSTABLE AT BEST AND CRIMINAL AT SECOND BEST. And based on what I heard last night, it's going to be awhile before solo travel is publicized at all. Because apparently it's not enough to obfuscate the destination, now they're going to have to fly private to a whole other airport and that's not even going to be enough to stop it. As one very prominent Twitter user has said, "it's public record and the taxpayers pay for air traffic control" LIKE THAT MAKES IT OKAY. IT'S NOT OKAY. This is NOT OKAY (and it's happened more than once - this example is from last September but the same account published JK's photos yesterday. The stalker ones.)

It's one thing to photograph the guys when they are in public and have no reasonable expectation of privacy. From a distance. Without bothering them. But this time distinct efforts were made on Jungkook's behalf because HE DIDN'T WANT SPOILERS. FOR US. And what did he get for it? Crowded, physically harassed and probably a rage-induced anxiety attack. Jungkook doesn't love being mobbed. He didn't want to travel with twelve security when he thought he only needed four. He just wanted to show up and do some stuff without being stalked. Kinda like he did at home just days ago when he was out in a crowd and didn't get mobbed. I'm sad and angry for Jungkook and his staff. I'm embarrassed for those of us who would never do things like this. And I'm PISSED OFF AT HOW WE LOOK AS A FANDOM RIGHT NOW. It's time to stop giving sasaeng behavior a pass. It's time to stop giving high traffic accounts a pass when they move like this. And it's time to stop giving the bullshit this fandom ignores a pass.

I don't care if you have 300K+ followers and speak fluent Korean if you're an asshole who tracks flights and publishes that information but you can't remember Jimin's birthday.

I don't care if your rent gets paid by people who buy Taekooker bullshit so you need to keep 'em active to cover the bills. I DON'T CARE. You act like this you are TRASH, and I am done with you, whether you consider yourself ARMY or not - because I don't.

[alstroemeriadissonance]

NXX Turns Into Cat - Part 4 (Nyaartem)

Each NXX duder turns into a cat. Everyone else—Rosa, mostly—deals with the mess.

Separate Timelines for each NXX duder.

Hijinks and absolute pettiness (pun intended) ensue.

Pt 01 - Meowrius | Pt 02 - Vynyaa | Pt 03 - Lukemeow

As always, what greeted Artem the moment he opened the door to his penthouse apartment was deafening silence. He was used to it, of course, and most of the time the quiet was a welcome reprieve from the absolute turmoil he encountered at work on a daily basis.

But the absolute lack of activity once he crossed his threshold; that palpable absence of company, whether or not they were actual companions, or people in the background—like coworkers, or strangers sitting at the next table in the coffee shop—it got to him.

Sometimes. 

Of course he would never admit it; after all, he had to convince himself that he needed the quiet. Artem needed to recuperate from the incessant commotion, the hustle and bustle, the sheer demands of his calling—these, on top of his own personal engagements.

Yet sometimes he wished that, for once, he’d experience having someone take care of him. Maybe even a friend who’ll casually tell him they got his back. Those little things that could make Artem feel he won’t fall through the cracks should he slip.

He hasn’t, not yet, as far as he knew. 

But he knew he would, eventually. 

In fact it was a miracle that he held his own for so long without making a major mistake, one that could cost everything, considering the enormous demands placed upon his shoulders. 

Ah, hell. 

He slumped into his sofa, completely spent.

Artem brought a hand to his necktie, loosening its knot as he tossed his briefcase onto a chair. Right. I need to cook dinner. 

He sighed deeply. Despite his trademark conscientiousness he had neglected to prepare meals in advance. So for this week, instead of just grabbing a frozen bag of food from the freezer and chucking it into the oven, he had to cook dinner from scratch—this was something that Artem would not compromise on, not ever—but he had to admit…

…he was getting tired. Immensely so.

It would be nice to go home and be taken care of by someone. Anyone. Could be his mom, maybe—Artem had to laugh derisively at this thought—a girlfriend, or even a friend dropping by to hang out with him.

But he didn’t have a lot of friends in the city. His coworkers, with the exception of Celestine, automatically placed themselves underneath him as soon as they learned who he was. They never saw themselves as his equal—much less be inclined to be friends with him.

His mentor, the one who actually cared for him enough to remind him of anything he may have forgotten in the whirlwind of activity, was currently missing. 

Artem had long accepted that he was alone, for the most part.

Hang on. Did I forget to pick up my suit from the cleaners? Grumbling, the lawyer fished out the receipt, reading the date when he could claim his freshly-cleaned suit: last Tuesday, three days ago.

Artem groaned, his hand with the cleaner’s receipt dropping to his side. 

He had exactly two more days to claim it, before his suit got forfeited and disposed of. Yet he knew he had no time to do so; this weekend was packed full with appointments that the cleaners would be closed by the time he finished work.

Not if I remember to call them tomorrow, maybe ask if they could hold on to my clothes until next Monday, perhaps…

He was going to fish out his phone to tap a reminder into his calendar app, when he noticed a small, thin silken pouch laying on the sofa, just beside his hand. 

It didn’t look like anything he would own, a flat pouch made of candy-pink silk, a calico cat embroidered on one side. 

Yet somehow, he made it a point to bring the pouch wherever he went ever since he received it. 

A good luck charm, of sorts.

It must have fallen off when I took out the receipt.

Artem may be tired, but he still smiled a little as the memory of how he came across such a strange item a week ago played out in his head: 

It all happened when Rosa was sent on an overseas business trip along with Celestine. Left to do the fieldwork all by himself, he wound up finishing work past ten PM, all alone in North Stellis, too busy to even take a bite since breakfast.

In a stroke of luck he had chanced upon a 24/7 traditional Chinese noodle shop in the more rundown area, one that he had not seen before in his frequent trips to the district. 

One would expect a newly-opened shop to look…new, but the strange noodle place appeared weathered, old—possibly older than that seedy part of town; come to think of it…

Even the proprietor who manned the shop by his lonesome looked almost old as sin itself and was attired in a priest's robes so unusual, that Artem thought it was a costume worn to add to the shop’s peculiar, mysterious air.

In any case, the noodles had been very good, and Artem felt a newfound vitality seep into his bones the moment he had finished the bowl.

The pink silken pouch had come with the change for his payment. “It’s a good luck charm, just for you, our first customer. Yes. Heh heh,” the old man’s grin had stretched a bit wider than normal; yet whenever Artem tried to conjure the exact image in his memory it came out too hazy, as if he had dreamed up the encounter. “Just hold it when you make your wish. Easy, yes?”

It was a bizarre experience, surely, but one that wasn’t enough to faze the country’s youngest senior attorney.

Artem held up the pink silk charm towards the ceiling, looking at its sheen as the shiny fabric caught the warm light of the floor lamp beside his sofa. 

“Wishes, huh…”

I suppose there’s no harm in trying. What to wish for…ah.

I wish someone got my back. Look out for me when I’m tired, or can’t take care of myself.

Could be anyone. 

Even for just a day.

I wish—

…

…

“Meow.”

===

Beep.

“Okay, it’s unlocked,” Luke quietly said as he pushed the door to Artem’s apartment, surreptitiously pocketing his keyring of emergency gadgets into his jacket as he walked through the main entrance. 

“Marius, is the decoy CCTV footage still running?” Vyn silently gestured to Rosa to go ahead of him—ladies first, of course—into the foyer of the lawyer’s sizable penthouse suite. 

“Yeap.” Marius tapped certain commands into his phone, then whistled as he eyed the interior after crossing the threshold. “Damn. Artem sure has a nice place,” then added under his breath, “...still a bit smaller than my room though.”

“When you are done with the one-sided pissing contest, make sure to restore the normal security feed as soon as you close the door behind you.” 

“Tsk. Goddamn slave driver,” Marius muttered as he swiped a command onto the touchscreen of his phone, then slipped the device into his pocket.

Vyn sauntered into the center of the living room, hands in the pockets of his white coat; his gaze swept over the surroundings, looking for any clues that could point towards Artem’s sudden disappearance. 

If he were honest with himself, the senior attorney’s disappearance was nothing he had expected, even as he ran the worst case scenarios resulting from their investigations. The possibility was always there of course, but it bore the prerequisite of their team’s cover being blown—something that Vyn was positive had not happened…yet.

Still, it was undeniable that their exploits brought them a bit too close to danger for his comfort. Wing’s disappearance was a stark reminder. It certainly wouldn’t be a stretch that with her boss missing, Rosa was at even more risk. The mere thought of Rosa getting hurt—

Vyn bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper, stopping himself from wallowing in hypotheticals that were not supported by anything, not even  by circumstantial evidence. He couldn’t afford to be distracted; they needed to get a solid lead before Darius Morgan and the rest of the police force could notice Wing’s absence, putting the entire NXX project at risk by bringing the police at their doorstep.

He already observed one detail that seemed off: a pile of clothes draped over the living room sofa. 

To Vyn’s eyes it seemed like a blight on the otherwise impeccably-maintained living space. Especially the way the clothes were haphazardly arranged; it was like whoever was wearing the full set of clothing up and disappeared into thin air, leaving the clothes intact like a discarded insect’s exoskeleton.

A small slip of paper…

Vyn bent over and picked the crumpled slip off the foot of the sofa, but Rosa called their attention before he had a chance to inspect it.

“Hang on…” Rosa  was about to climb the stairs to the upper floor, but something caught her notice, and she put a finger across her lips before whispering, “Did you guys hear that?”

Luke stealthily moved ahead of her towards the kitchen, his footsteps not making any sound. “Yeah. That’s strange.”

“What is?” Vyn joined them, his normally distinct footfalls now noticeably silent. A far-off sound of mewling could be heard. “Ah. I did not know Wing kept a pet.”

“Is that…meowing?” Marius, having no talent in sneaking, followed them with his sneaker-clad feet making squeaky sounds on the polished stone flooring. 

Whatever faint sound they picked up had ceased.

“Oh for god’s sake,” Luke let out a short string of choice curses. “Can’t you see we’re trying to be quiet here? You just spooked whatever lead we got!”

“Lead? We had a lead?” Marius raised an eyebrow. “Do we even need leads if you guys are looking for a cat?”

“We’re not here to look for a cat, dumbass, but we’re—”

Marius pointed at something near the ceiling directly over the kitchen. “That cat?”

“What do you mean—oh.” 

There was a cat alright. Its appearance was rather hard to make out, as it blended into the shadows quite well. But before anyone could have a good look at the furry creature, it slunk into the darkness above the overhead cupboards, hiding away from the intruders.

Rosa noticed yet another thing, and scrunched her nose. “Hmm. Smells like the litter box hasn’t been cleaned for a while.”

“Wing had been missing for three days. If that meant the cat was left unattended for three whole days, or more…” Vyn approached the fridge, and rummaged through its contents until he found something that suited his purpose: a half-consumed can of tuna. “It must surely be hungry. Marius,” Vyn beckoned to the youngest in the group.

Marius scowled. He never liked it when Vyn used that tone on him. Not even his older brother bossed him around like Vyn did, as if they were forever stuck in the role of tutor and student regardless of the situation. “What.”

“Meow.”

“What the fuck?”

“Just meow. Get its attention,” the doctor threw Marius a withering look. “Surely you could do as much?”

Marius was more inclined to roll up his sleeves and beat the shit out of his tutor right then and there than do animal sounds, and was about to do so, when Luke rolled his eyes and took it upon himself to call out, “Meow, little kitty, kitty…”

Rosa quickly took the opened can of tuna off Vyn’s hands. “Kitty~ We have food!”

After a minute or so the cat finally saw it fit to peek out from where it was hiding above the cupboards; a wary blue gaze looking down at the four-person group, as if trying to discern their trustworthiness. 

Yet its hunger won out; as soon as it picked up the scent of food, the cat jumped down onto the kitchen countertop. It meowed quite loudly at Rosa, trying to paw at the open can of tuna that sat on her palms.

“Poor thing. He must be really hungry,” Rosa noted as she closely watched the feline devour the tuna, loud smacking sounds interspersed with an incessant, low-pitched growl.

The cat appeared to be of Persian stock: it had a thick coat of black fur that seemed to absorb light, making it appear like a blob of shadow. When the cat briefly looked up towards Rosa in between gulps, she saw what could be the most brilliant blue eyes she had ever seen on a four-legged creature.

Cerulean, similar to Mr. Wing’s eyes…

Rosa shook her head. Focus! They were there to look for her boss, not missing cats.

“It is odd. The cat seems to be perfectly healthy, but I would assume that the smell of excreta…” Vyn’s lips slightly curled in distaste, “...indicates there is no provision for the cat to properly dispose of its own waste. I find it highly uncharacteristic of Wing.”

“So we have an out of place cat,” Marius crossed his arms. “What’s that got to do with Artem going missing?” 

“Holy shit.” 

While the others had their focus diverted towards the unexpected cat, Luke took it upon himself to set up his laptop by the dining table and tap into the CCTV footage through the building’s security network. 

Something really odd had been captured by the security camera pointed towards the general living area of Artem’s apartment, and Luke had to rewind and loop those few seconds of something inexplicable that took place in the living room. “Er. You guys may want to see this.”

The group spent several minutes looping the same 10-second segment of the security camera footage over and over, and over; an unnatural silence fell upon them, not knowing how to even react at what they had been watching.

Until Rosa piped up. “Um. So this means…Mr. Wing is the cat…?”

“Jesus.” Luke rubbed his eyes, then squinted once again directly at the screen. There it was, that split second moment where Artem, holding something up in the air, disappeared and instantaneously replaced by the very same Persian cat in the kitchen; the same cat licking the insides of the now empty tuna can. “I—I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.” The detective sounded like he was on the verge of breaking down.

The past two days had been rough on Luke. Not only did he have to take on the lion’s share of the task of tracking Artem down, he also had to endure two full days of bickering between the young spoiled brat and the older pretentious bastard. “All I can say is that the video is clean, so—yeah. Yeah. I’m out.” 

Vyn and Marius could only look on as the detective left the premises.

“I don’t blame him at all, really.” Marius scratched his head. “This is totally fucking bonkers. I’d rather bitch at you for disappearing Artem.” A sigh. “It would be way easier if that happened instead.”

“I am sure there is a logical explanation.” Vyn took a deep breath to compose himself, ignoring Marius’s jab. “But I have a feeling it can only come after a good night’s sleep. A good, long, I-want-to-take-a-sabbatical sleep.”

The student snorted, but refrained from making his usual snide remark about the doctor’s penchant for opting to take a healthy amount of bed rest every time the chance presented itself.

Yet Vyn was far from being relieved. Things were not adding up, and they certainly could not afford to waste resources over a prank; especially one where all variables were unknown: who did it, how they did it and most especially, why?

While this has taken quite a turn, I am not sure if I prefer this outcome, or if I would rather deal with something that we could solve with logic, like a missing person case.

Or even a murder.

Rosa joined them in the living room, the fuzzy black cat in her arms. “I’ll be taking care of…um. Mr. Wing, then,” she said haltingly, as if she was still getting used to addressing a small feline as her boss. “I’ll take a trip to the pet shop and get supplies.”

“I will give you temporary access to our account.” Vyn took out his phone, and after a few taps he slipped it back into the pocket of his doctor’s coat. “Make sure to get everything you think a cat may need. No need to worry about accidentally buying extras; an excess of supply will always be better than lacking them.”

“Got it, Dr. Richter.” Rosa gently scratched the black cat’s chin. “Mr. Wing won’t go hungry under my watch!”

Vyn smiled at Rosa’s enthusiasm. Even if the enthusiasm was mostly aimed towards taking care of someone else, rather than him. As long as she smiled, he was content.

Maybe.

Yet while it was unlikely that the cat would go hungry in Rosa’s care, things unfortunately did not go as planned for the poor creature. 

===

The next morning.

Yawning, Rosa found herself woken up by the ringing of her phone. 

Huh. I thought I already phoned in sick.

Due to dire circumstances she had planned to skip work for the day, while the other three tried to make heads or tails of whatever happened to her boss. Vyn had even written up a medical certificate for her to bolster her excuse with, so she could be excused from work for a day or two and focus on taking care of her four-legged boss.

She yawned at the person at the other end of the line. “…Ms. Taylor?” 

Rosa gradually awakened from the stupor of sleep the longer she listened to Celestine’s urgent words; by the time she cut the call she was on the verge of panicking.

Oh no…we were scheduled to do the presentation for the new client today—I totally forgot!

She had the option to decline, of course, as she was supposed to be on sick leave. Yet she knew that Artem had poured blood, sweat, and tears to secure this particular chance; letting it fall through her fingers would be nothing short of unthinkable…

And so Rosa came up with the only solution she could think of.

===

“No.”

…was the only word Vyn wanted to say when the pet carrier full of meowing cat was laid on his doorstep, along with boxes of pet supplies.

However, it was Rosa—his beloved Rose, still ever so ignorant of the affection he held for her—who foisted the cat into his care, and so the words that actually escaped his lips were, “Yes, of course.”

“Thank you, Dr. Richter!” Rosa happily took both of his hands and shook them firmly. Vyn thought it sad that she would never know how much that innocent gesture would affect him for as long as he remembered it. “You’re a lifesaver. Mr. Wing had put so much work into securing a long-term contract with them—I can’t bear the thought of letting it go to waste, just like that.”

Yet Vyn smiled gently at her, still. It was so much like her to think about the welfare of other people—Wing included, of course, and he had to live with the knowledge that he probably wouldn’t possess that special place in Rosa’s heart; that he wouldn’t have all of her to his greedy, greedy self. 

Still, it was a great honor that it was him whom she first thought of, to ask for help. “Think nothing of it. But,” he held up a finger. “You will be making a deal with the devil, Rosa. Are you sure you are ready to pay the price?”

“Eh?” Rosa’s smile froze. “...Price?” 

She knew Dr. Richter’s time was too valuable to be wasted on a cat, but such a remark coming from her usually accommodating close friend was something she never expected to hear from him. Not that she intended to abuse his good graces, yet…

Vyn let a several seconds pass without a single word from him, letting Rosa stew in anxiety anticipation. There was nothing on his face but an expression of something that Rosa could not easily pinpoint—and before she could ask him if there was anything wrong, if putting Artem-cat under his care was too much of an imposition—his face broke into a bright smile as he said, “A dinner date would suffice. How about it?”

The sigh of relief that came from Rosa was all too audible. 

“Of course. You know how much I love spending time with you, Dr. Richter.” She laughed sheepishly. “Really. I can owe you like a week’s worth of dinner dates, but um. As long as I could afford it, I guess? Haha.”

“I am only asking for your presence, Rosa. Let me foot the bill.” Vyn bent over to reach for the handle of Artem-cat’s pet carrier, lifting the container with the grille door facing him so he could peek inside and take a good look at the black Persian cat. “Well, hello.” His smile grew taut. “For Rosa’s sake, I will be your caretaker for the day, little Wing.” 

I will gladly do this, if it means having Rosa exclusively all to myself for the next few evenings.

“Mrr.” 

A black paw slipped through the grilles, extending towards his face. He was about to flinch, but  realized that the cat was pawing at his cheek with claws retracted, as if trying to touch him out of curiosity.

“I think Mr. Wing likes you!” Rosa exclaimed in delight, her eyes brimming with mirth as she watched the cat tentatively pat Vyn’s rather surprised face. “He probably wants to play?”

Vyn had to smile despite himself. “Never in a million years would I have thought of hearing those words.” He caught the little paw with his fingers, carefully peeling it away from his cheek. “Well then, hurry along to work, Rosa. Leave little Wing to me.”

The doctor helped Rosa book a cab, and after a few minutes she was gone, almost as sudden and as fleeting as an April shower.

Like a fever dream, or a flight of fancy.

“Mrowr?”

Vyn realized that he was still standing by his doorstep, wearing his silk sleeping robe, and that he was due to be in the office a couple of hours from now. He did not have time to run out and buy pet supplies, only to drive back home and set everything up so he could leave Artem-cat in the living room.

If he wanted to keep an eye on the cat, he would need to bring it along to his office.

But how can I work him out into my own schedule, and in such short notice? 

He had to think of something, quickly.

Vivid sky blue eyes on black fur stared at him through the metal grilles. An idea suddenly occurred to him, but he needed to see if the creature would be cooperative…

Ah. But first, let us test how suitable he is…

Vyn unlatched the grille door, letting the cat slip out of the carrier to climb his arm and settle on his shoulder. It remained there, the bared crook of his neck its new comfortable perch, even as the doctor briefly bent on one knee to put the pet carrier down by his slipper-clad feet.

The cat purred quietly, decidedly much calmer than how it was when they found it in Artem’s apartment. “Mrrow.” It nuzzled his silver hair, its nose tickling the side of his head. “Meow.”

“Are you really Wing?” There was a tinge of mild, astonished amusement in his voice. 

Without much prompting, Artem-cat nimbly jumped into his arms. The quiet purring went on; it was a low, persistent sound akin to a running motor engine, and coupled with the mild vibrations it felt quite pleasant. “I could hardly believe it. Bite my arm if you can understand my words.”

“Meow.” Instead of biting, it planted its forepaws onto Vyn’s neck and licked his chin.

“I suppose not.” Vyn found himself smiling. He liked cats; he certainly would not take it against this cat for something it had no control over—such as association with the person who held nothing for him but contempt, for instance.

His temperament is gentle; he would be perfect around children… He weighed the one option that came to his mind, as the fingers of his free hand scratched the purring machine’s chin.

Yes, Vyn decided he could work something out.

Having made up his mind, he took out his smartphone from the pocket of his silk robe.

He absolutely abhorred having to upset impeccably-prepared schedules on the fly, but if it meant seeing Rosa smile, doing so was only but a drop of water in the sea of his responsibilities. 

“It is me. When does the earliest appointment start? Yes, I meant for today.” A pause. “Ah. Not too early. I need your help for a certain experimental therapy I had in mind…”

===

A polite knock resounded through the door to Dr. Vyn Richter’s office. “Come in, the door is unlocked.”

His assistant peeked in. “I’ve called each patient scheduled for consultation today. Everyone confirmed they aren’t allergic to cats. Some were even delighted at the idea.”

“Thank you. That is good news indeed.” Vyn expected as much; most of his patients booked for consultation for the day were children. The only potential snag was if any of them were allergic to animal dander, and that concern was thankfully cleared out. “I sent you an image just now, please have it printed and put it up somewhere in the waiting area.” He glanced at his wristwatch. It was almost time for the patients to start trickling into the waiting area. 

“Sure, doc. Leave it to me.”

The assistant closed the door behind him.

“Well Wing,” Vyn turned towards the black cat curled up on his executive desk. “You will be earning your keep today.”

Its tail flicked lazily in response. “Meow.” 

“Would you like a sausage?” Vyn reached towards his breakfast tray and picked out a convenience store weiner wrapped in plastic; he tore open the packaging and offered one end of the sausage to Artem-cat. “Hardly healthy, I know. I will make it up to you later.”

Artem-cat sniffed at it, wary at first, then took its first bite.

Eventually it nibbled the sausage with gusto; and loud smacking sounds filled the sacred silence of Vyn’s office. 

The psychiatrist found himself watching the cat eat with rapt attention. It was all too easy forgetting the feline’s alleged identity; instead he played out one pleasant, yet poignant  memory that he held during his time as a student. 

When he was still a child, young Vilhelm was surprised to learn that a cat he rescued from campus grounds actually belonged to a colony of cats that lived not too far from his dormitory. 

He was made to believe that ‘his’ cat was a lonely soul, just like he was; and through this perceived similarity he felt a kinship with the little creature.

Until one day, when the cat came to their usual meeting place with several other cats in tow.

It was then he came to the realization that cats were merely mistaken to be solitary creatures, that even they craved companionship when they felt like it. He started seeing more cats interacting with their own ilk as soon as he started actively looking for these cat colonies. 

Watching the cats play with each other made him realize that while he was used to being alone, he too secretly yearned to belong somewhere.

Yet Vilhelm wasn't being honest with himself; it was too easy to twist that yearning into a feeling of indignation—how dare they look down on him—and as he grew older, more cynical, he had forgotten that little yearning; the indignation eventually grew into a quiet, yet smoldering resentment that sustained his very being. Well hidden and out of view, but the faint embers were there, waiting to be consumed into a larger flame.

“Mrrrrow?” Artem-cat had already finished its sausage; the meowing had brought him back from his reverie. “Meow.”

“Ah, I apologize for zoning out like that.” Vyn noticed that he was becoming more comfortable talking to the cat as he would with his plants, on occasion. The idea that the cat was formerly Wing—Vyn tried very hard to ignore the dubiousness of the entire matter—certainly did not help. While he was wont to return the lawyer’s contemptuousness towards him with interest, Vyn was nonetheless very keen on learning what would happen if the cat somehow turned back into his former, human, self. Would they remember their life as a cat, for instance?

He threw a quick glance at the clock on his desktop. Ten-fifty. It was about time for his office to start letting in patients. 

He fished out a few sheets of tissue paper from the caddy sitting at the corner of his desk, and wiped the sausage grease off the mahogany surface. “Are you ready to earn your keep, little Wing?”

“Meeeow.”

He was about to call for his assistant, when someone very unwelcome burst through his door. “Oi, Vyn!” Marius bounded into his office, making himself comfortable on the chaise longue. “Hi Artem! Getting cozy with your rival?”

“Nyaa.” Sky blue eyes blinked at Marius.

“What the hell are you doing here, brat?” Vyn hissed. “I have patients due to arrive in a few minutes.”

“Ehhhhh, that’s no way to treat someone who helped you on short notice.” Marius put on an exaggerated pout. “It wasn’t easy putting together a colored scribble of you holding a cat, let alone being given only five minutes to do it!”

“You seemed to have the talent to do nothing but draw doodles by the margins of the rare books I lent you, the least you could do is to put it to good use.” Vyn scowled. “Or am I mistaken?”

“Ugh Vyn, stop being such a goddamn arse for once. I helped, okay?” Marius returned Vyn’s frown with his own. “At least I didn’t draw you as a silly looking owl—”

Someone knocked on the door. It was Vyn’s assistant. “Miss Lydie—oh, apologies, I did not notice you had a guest. Shall I…?”

“No, I believe it is time for Mr. von Hagen to leave.” Vyn straightened the lapels of his white coat, then addressed his assistant. “After you show him out, please let Lydie in. Is the mother with her this time?”

Marius let out an exasperated sigh. “Man, I only wanted to hang around and see what you’re up to, especially since it’s urgent enough to ask me for help—”

“Oh um,” the assistant blinked, his sights flitting between Dr. Richter and his student. He was all too acutely aware that he had stepped into a very awkward moment. “Yes. Madam Roswell is with Lydie.”

“Good.” Vyn crossed his arms as he turned to Marius, looking pointedly at his student. “Well?”

“A one-day trial on pet therapy hardly qualifies as entertainment, Marius, despite my request that you make the drawing for the signage a bit endearing.” Vyn looked ready to manhandle his student and throw him out the window. “And I do not want to violate patient confidentiality just because you are bored. Leave.”

It wasn’t a battle that he could win; Marius understood as much. “Fine, fine,” he muttered as he peeled himself off the chaise longue, but instead of going straight for the door he made a detour towards Vyn’s desk, where Artem-cat silently watched them bicker. “Hey, tell me if this bastard kicks you, yeah?” He stroked the sleek, silken black fur without hesitation; the affectionate gesture was readily rewarded with Artem-cat bunting its head against his palm.

“Ohoh, he finally likes me. Well I’d like you too, buddy, but only if you’d quit harassing me and my brother over Neil’s—”

“Marius.” By now Vyn’s golden eyes have lost their usual sparkle, and his face was devoid of any expression, cryptic or otherwise. “I highly doubt the cat is capable of holding a conversation. Their current brain structure simply cannot accommodate that function,” he said, voice clipped.

His student didn’t quite catch how deep in hot water he already was at that moment. “Awwww.” He scratched Artem-cat’s chin. “Who is that dumb kitty witty. Yes is youuuuuuu.”

Vyn’s assistant, ever quick on the uptake, put a hand on Marius’s shoulder then discreetly but firmly steered him towards the door. “Mr. von Hagen, thank you so much for…”

After the door closed behind them, Vyn finally let out a long, pained, sigh. Finally. 

Yet the peace was short-lived, for the door opened once again; this time a withdrawn young girl shyly peeked from behind the heavy frosted glass door. She seemed intent on rooting herself to that spot, until she was roughly pushed into the office.

“Lydie, we talked about this,” said the impeccably-dressed woman easily in her late thirties, with make-up obviously worn for the express purpose of hiding that fact. “Don’t embarrass me in front of—”

Vyn set out to nip the girl’s distress right in the bud. He skirted around the mother, acting as if she was not in the room, and approached Lydie without acknowledging her presence. 

He knew it was discourteous, but he preferred not risking letting his mask slip around the blameless girl. If the woman was petty enough to make an issue out of it, he could deal with it later.

“Hello, little Lydie.” He bent down on one knee, letting the girl tower over him by a couple of inches. It was but a small gesture, yet he knew that it would help Lydie immensely by putting her in an equal or even a slightly dominant position as he engaged her. 

A soft smile. “You have been chosen to be the very first patient to meet a new friend. Would you like to see him now?” His voice was sweet and gentle; while the effect was not immediately apparent it was clear to see that Lydie wasn’t as guarded as she was seconds ago.

The girl gave a small nod, her pigtails swinging behind her head. Vyn’s ever-observant eyes picked up on her enthusiasm; but it was heavily muted until it was almost imperceptible. No doubt heavily influenced by her overbearing mother.

Still smiling, he stood up and retrieved Artem-cat from his desk…

===

Unbeknownst to Vyn, Marius had been peeking into the office through the small crack. Luckily for him the vain mother seemed too preoccupied with appearances to even bother with basic courtesies, such as closing the door properly behind her. 

The sliver of an opening afforded Marius only a very limited view, but nonetheless the small wedge of visible area covered the corner with the chaise longue, and that was the only view he needed.

Marius glanced at the door leading to the adjacent waiting area. Vyn’s assistant was busy taking inquiries from waiting patients; most of the questions were about the experimental integration of pet therapy. Looks like his hands are gonna be full for today to even notice me.... 

He then resumed peeking into Vyn’s office through the crack in the doorway. 

Oh goodie.

Artem-cat calmly clung to Vyn’s arms as the psychiatrist introduced it to Lydie. “His name is…ah...”

Marius couldn’t help but grin. Is he seriously going to call the cat ‘Artem’? 

“...Aile. His name is Aile.” He then beckoned Lydie to take her seat on the chaise longue, and carefully placed the purring cat on her lap. “Aile, do be friendly with your new friend.”

The student groaned inwardly. Of course he’s going to give the poor cat a frou frou French name. What did I even expect?

Lydie let out a soft coo of delight as her short fingers ran through the thick black fur. “Aile,” she whispered. “Kitty…”

Vyn smiled as he picked up his tablet from the nearby coffee table and took his seat across Lydie, his legs crossed. “How was your week?”

Deciding that he had intruded enough, Marius quietly closed the door, then made his way towards the waiting area. He gave Vyn’s overwhelmed assistant—still accosted with so many questions and inquiries from those interested in the pet therapy trial—a wave as he walked past.

He briefly entertained the idle thought of how things could have turned out if he knew Vyn before he became a naturalized citizen; during better circumstances way before things went south and his older brother went missing.

Maybe we could have been…friends?

Eh, whatever.

He promptly binned that train of thought.

Then it caught his eye. A few kids and a couple of young mothers with their toddlers in tow crowded around it: a sizable poster featuring his quick doodle, taped to a prominent spot on the wall. 

The poster bore a chibi-style rendition of Dr. Vyn Richter in his trademark white doctor’s coat, smiling brightly as he held up a black cat drawn in a similar style. The words Meet a new friend today! were printed in block letters above the print out of Marius’s colored drawing. There were some more lines of text below the image, no doubt disclaimers meant for the adults or guardians accompanying the minor patients.

It was obvious how well-received Vyn’s stunt turned out to be, and the man was already popular in the first place.

Grinning and in high spirits, Marius almost skipped all the way out of Vyn’s research facility. The fact that his tutor owed him a big favor was undeniable; he spent the rest of the day mostly trying to come up with what favor to ask, as payment.

===

“Thank you very much, Dr. Richter. You’ve been a great help. Really.”

“My pleasure.”

The door closed behind the woman; his professional responsibilities for the day also left him the moment the glass door locked closed with an audible click.

Vyn briefly glanced at his wristwatch. 

Right on schedule.

An orange-golden sunset light poured into his office through the gaps between the drawn venetian blinds. It was already six in the evening. 

Finally time to go home. And with luck, Rosa may come and stay for dinner when she drops by to pick him up…

He pushed himself out of his psychiatrist’s chair and stretched his arms upward, feeling his bones crack as he did so.

As expected, most of the children were very receptive to the pet therapy trial. Overall the turnout was very encouraging; even the two adult patients took well to Artem-cat and one of them, a woman suffering from PTSD, had expressed her interest in adopting a shelter cat.

“Good job, little Wing.” Vyn picked up the purring Artem-cat off the carpeted floor, gazing directly into its cerulean eyes as he held out the cat in front of him. “As much as I loathe your human self, I have to admit I have taken a liking to you. If you would stay in this form, I would gladly adopt you and have the both of us certified for pet therapy.”

“Myaaaa.”

“Oh, so you do like that idea.”

“Myan.”

“And Rosa would undoubtedly like me even more, for having attained yet another quality that she would find quite…charming.”

“Mrrr.”

“I guess you still have misgivings toward the idea. But take heart,” Vyn said as his lips curved into a lazy, cat-like grin. “Rosa will dote on you more as a four-legged, lovable beast.” 

“Mrrrrr.” Artem-cat now squirmed in his grasp, and at this point it was hard for Vyn to discern if the cat was purring loudly, or was doing a low-pitched growl. “Mrrrowr.”

“Ah-ah, behave,” Vyn tut-tutted, barely able to hold back his ever-so-slightly devious grin as he adjusted his hold on Artem-cat. He held it close to his chest with his left arm, his other hand delicately stroking its black fur. “If you hold any grievances about your current situation, direct them to the culprit. I am merely your caretaker.” 

“Meow.” Artem-cat sounded glum as it started to groom Vyn, by licking the sleeve of his white coat.

“I suppose it is time for this coat to be sent to the cleaners—oh.”

He was immediately reminded of the slip of paper he picked up from the floor, back in Artem’s apartment. 

His free hand dug into the right pocket.

It should still be here… 

After a few seconds he managed to fish out the now-crumpled slip. With deft fingers he single handedly smoothed out the paper; he almost snorted when he read the dates and noted the lack of Claimed stamp. 

“Incredible. Even the meticulous, neat senior attorney could forget picking up his suit.” 

===

Dinner was bubbling along nicely in Vyn’s kitchen when he decided to check up on his sole dinner guest. 

Unfortunately Rosa had to turn down his dinner invitation for tonight; despite his best efforts she could not be dissuaded from taking that very, very rare chance to prove herself to her boss that yes, he could count on her to pick up the slack should anything happen to him. 

For instance, him turning into a cat.

And so for tonight, his special guest for dinner is the four-legged creature foisted into his care. 

While Vyn did pick up a few packets of premium wet cat food for him, he decided that Artem-cat did deserve a nice treat for doing a great job for a cat not even specifically trained to be a therapy animal. 

His reward for a job well done was a trout dinner with a bit of rice, finely chopped broccoli, and made slightly sweet with a little homemade applesauce. It extended dinner preparation time for almost an hour, but Vyn did not mind it at all; however, he would indeed mind if the cat did not like his first attempt at cooking cat food.

He called for the cat to come taste the meal he had painstakingly prepared for him. “Wing, where are you?” Vyn padded towards the living space of his home, then the foyer. He even thought of rattling the package sitting on the sofa; it contained the lawyer’s forgotten suit that he picked up from the cleaners. He thought the cat could have hidden itself inside behind the bag, or maybe just curled up beside it to sleep for no other reason than familiarity…but the cat was also not to be found in or around the paper bag.

“Wing?” He traced his way back towards the kitchen, but there was no discernible sign of cat; at least, not on the first floor of his house.

Suddenly a low thunder crashed from the skies; it was strong enough that the glass panes vibrated in their frames.

A freak thunderstorm? 

He was about to check the weather, when he heard a faint distressed cry from somewhere. Not from within the house; the sound was barely audible, as if it came from outside.

Then Vyn realized that he may not have closed the back door when he hauled groceries into the pantry earlier.

Damn it. I was too careless. It took only a glance behind the kitchen that the backdoor was indeed slightly ajar.

Vyn sprinted through the door and out into the barely-lit garden. “Wing?”

Another loud peal of thunder reverberated through the skies; and once again a mewl of distress could be heard, except this time he could finally pinpoint where it came from. He hurried towards one of the rose bushes half-hidden behind the fire tree.

Artem-cat’s cries of pain grew louder as he approached. Vyn carefully parted the rose bushes with his bare hands, not minding the thorns that pricked his skin.

“Shit.” Vyn could not help but curse as he found the cat trapped in the thorny rose bush; despite the thick black fur Vyn’s trained eye could easily pick out that the cat suffered several puncture wounds that bled and made worse when it tried to extricate itself from the thorny branches.

After quickly assessing how to take the cat out of its thorny predicament he decided that it was too risky to try and untangle it by hand; Vyn would need to use pruning shears to safely remove the cat from the rose bush.

“Stay put, I need to retrieve my shears from the garden shed.”

Artem-cat resumed its loud, pained wailing the moment he disappeared out of its sight, thinking that it had been abandoned to suffer alone. Vyn winced at the sound; it certainly brought back certain memories. “Just stay put, I will be there soon!” 

Why am I even talking to a cat like a complete dolt? 

Shaking his head at the incredulousness of it all, Vyn all but kicked open the rickety door of his garden shed and felt around the shelf for his shears, not even pausing to turn on the lights. 

Artem-cat was still crying, its sounds now escalated into a full-on caterwauling. 

Despite his wealth of experience of treating patients in physical trauma, Vyn still felt an acute sense of pain empathy, and almost flinched.

Wasting no time, he immediately set out to work as soon as he got back. “Ssh. I am here,” he whispered; the sounds of his shears snipping off the thorny stems the most comforting sound the cat had ever heard. “I got you.”

After a few minutes the cat was finally freed from the thorny bush; it trembled in Vyn’s arms as he carried it back into the house without delay.

The bright illumination in Vyn’s house shed light on the extent of its injuries: the black fur obscured the wounds, but the bleeding all over Vyn’s cardigan made the seriousness of its injuries undeniable. Depending on how deep the puncture wounds were, Vyn may need to bring Artem-cat to the veterinarian…

Yet he could clean and dress its wounds first, at the very least. 

With the cat still secure in his arm, Vyn made a beeline to the bathroom, retrieving his first aid kit along the way. 

“This may be a little painful, Wing, but I need to give you a bath first before dressing your wounds.” Vyn carefully placed the still-trembling cat into the bathroom sink; and turned on the tap with the temperature set to warm. 

Under the cascading water Vyn examined the cat’s wounds by meticulously parting its fur, checking for wounds that he may have missed. He counted almost ten lacerations in total. “Damn it. This reminds me of when you charged into that drug den like an utter idiot,” he murmured as he squeezed a bit of shampoo onto his palm, lathering it into foam. “I was ready to burn you at the stake for bringing Rosa along with you in your idiotic escapade, but we both know how Rosa is.” Vyn let out a sigh as he started to gently rub the blood out of the black fur. “...so I did not. But tell me, Wing, do you have anyone to get your back when you dig yourself into a hole you cannot crawl out of?”

The answer to that question never came. Not that night, at least. For suddenly Vyn found himself holding a very human Artem Wing by the waist; the lawyer seated quite uncomfortably in the sink full of running water.

The doctor merely stared at him, frozen; Artem stared back at him, similarly immobile. 

They stayed stock-still in close proximity to each other; the stare-off was only broken when Vyn finally remembered he could blink his eyes.

After he did so he wordlessly opened the first aid kit and took out a bottle of alcohol.

Vyn eventually found his voice. “Your wounds are still open,” he mumbled as his fingers fumbled with the twist cap; his usually deft fingers now felt heavy as lead and even dropped the bottle onto the floor, once. “Need to clean and dress your wounds.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Artem also finally managed to find his tongue. “I—”

“Nonsense,” Vyn snapped. “Sit there and let me dress your wounds in peace. Do not get in my way.” He sounded as if he did not have a very naked male colleague in front of him, with his ass stuck in the bathroom sink; the warm water flowing from the tap had already overflowed and poured directly onto his feet, slowly flooding the bathroom floor.

“I—ah, goddamn it. Alright.” Artem’s head was still quite fuzzy; his mental faculties had yet to fully return. But even in that state he could see how wrong this compromised position was, and he could not help his skin turning a deeper shade of red by the minute.

Vyn noticed this. “Wing, for the sake of everything we stand for, please do not make this any more awkward than it already is. Please.” He took out a pair of medical scissors, a roll of gauze, and medical tape.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes and I think that is precisely what is making this worse.” Vyn bit his lip hard as soon as he realized his words could be easily misconstrued. 

True enough, Artem’s face from the neck up deepened into a darker red. “Damn it,” Vyn’s voice came out strangled as he worked on dressing his colleague’s injuries,

And still, both of them were too distressed enough to notice the water overflowing from the sink. 

Eventually Vyn managed to dress all of Artem’s wounds. “It is done,” was all he could say. “I…picked up your suit. It is in a paper bag. You can find it in the living room.”

“Thank you.” Artem then tried to lift himself out of the sink. “Uh. Richter.”

“Yes.” Vyn was still standing in front of him, the expression on his face quite shell-shocked. “What is it.”

“I think I’m stuck.” He tried to move his waist to try and remove himself from the sink, to no avail. “I need uh…a hand…”

“Here,” Vyn held out an arm to the lawyer. “Hold on.”

Artem groaned as Vyn helped pull himself out of the sink. “Goddamn it, you could have been more careful. That hurt.”

If Marius or Luke could have witnessed this very moment, they may have gained a treasure trove of innuendo-filled jokes, enough to probably make Vyn kick them out of the NXX Project with nary a thought.

“If you need any more clothing, just go upstairs, turn left to my bedroom,” Vyn mumbled. “The cabinet is full of clean clothes.”

“Thank you.”

Artem hurriedly left the bathroom, leaving Vyn to his own devices as he sought to regain his dignity.

A few minutes later, wearing his own freshly laundered suit—along with a white button up shirt taken from the closet and a pair of Vyn’s underwear that was just a little too tight at the bottom—Artem returned to the bathroom to thank Vyn for all the trouble the doctor had put himself through for his sake.

…Only to see him aimlessly swish a mop about in a vain attempt to clear the bathroom floor of water.

He does not know how to use a mop, was the lawyer’s immediate thought.

The mop head only moved the water to other spots; and Vyn even neglected to wring the water out. Artem cringed the entire time he watched the usually respectable NXX Investigations Team’s most senior member demonstrate his misunderstanding of water displacement physics.

After a few minutes watching the sad display Artem could not take it anymore; he then grabbed the mop off Vyn’s hands. “I’ll take over from here. It’s the least I could do.”

===

Next Monday, NXX Headquarters.

A heavy atmosphere so thick pervaded the conference room. Vyn kept to himself in his usual spot by the head of the conference table, oddly quiet all throughout even during the meeting.

Artem also stayed in his preferred spot, busy—or pretending to be busy—updating himself with what transpired during his absence. 

“Um. Mr. Wing?” Rosa broke the silence. “Um…glad to see you’re back.”

Artem blinked, then looked at Rosa. “Thank you. You did great work when I was…away.”

“Thanks!” Rosa smiled gleefully. “I’d like to hear about your adventures as a cat, if you don’t mind…”

Marius took her words as his cue. “Oh, didn’t you know, Missy? Artem worked as Vyn’s masco—”

“Mass hysteria,” Vyn suddenly said, his words coming off non-sequitur. “Nothing of the sort happened.”

“I have proof here—”

“MASS HYSTERIA,” Vyn repeated, a bit loudly this time. “A mass psychogenic illness making us fall for an illusion of our brain’s own making. Stress—”

“But I have proof right here!” Marius took out his smartphone.”I drew—”

This time, it was Artem who spoke up. “It’s mass hysteria, and if you don’t stop, Marius, I will throw this laptop at you and sue you for mental distress.

That moment went down as one of the very few instances when Vyn and Artem agreed and joined forces against a common enemy.