#he's a 22 year old man who's working out for his own sake and for his health yall shut up

[jisungshotfirst]

grrrrr twt stans annoy me

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 22

warnings: SMUT! 18+!, dirty talk, p in v sex, praise, violence.

part 22:

"Why isn't she coming? Remind me," Tashi asked as she and Art walked to the court so he could warm up. "Because it's a small tournament and she's working. You know she's not my trophy wife and that she has her own life, right?" Art replied. He didn't like talking to Tashi about Liana, especially since he and Liana still weren't really talking about themselves. They hadn't had "the talk" yet, and Art wasn't ready to admit it bothered him because he was afraid it would end what they had.

"Fine, but she knows you need her in the crowd, she could have come," Tashi continued. "Tash, can we warm up and leave Liana alone?" He might have asked, but there was no room to continue talking about her. Because in the war between tennis and Liana, Tashi didn't stand a chance. They both knew that.

When Art came off the court after a fairly quick victory, he saw Patrick Zweig looking directly at him, leaning against the wall and giving a hesitant wave. And just like five years ago, Art wished someone had given him a heads-up, but just like five years ago, it didn't happen.

"That was a good game. Poor Callum didn't stand a chance," Patrick said as Art approached him. "Do you need something?" Art asked impatiently. "I'll let you shower, Donaldson, and then we'll talk?" Patrick half-asked, half-stated. He knew Art wouldn't refuse a challenge. "Do we have something to talk about?" Art tried to feign indifference but couldn't help the furrow in his brow. He really didn't want to talk to Patrick. "For old times' sake," Patrick smiled and blinked a few times, showing no signs of discomfort.

"Your game was good," Patrick started after Art showered and they sat at a secluded table in a diner adjacent to one of the courts. "My game was boring. What do you want, Patrick?" Art asked impatiently. He didn't like being in situations he hadn't initiated. He didn't like losing control so blatantly, and he didn't like knowing Patrick could push his buttons.

"To congratulate you on London. You're living the dream, man," Patrick said, undeterred by the coldness dripping from Art. Ice. Ice to his fire. Yin to his yang. He recognized this in Art. He knew Art's defenses would be strong and rigid, but Patrick came prepared. "It doesn't make sense," Art replied pragmatically. Patrick had no reason to congratulate him on anything. Congratulations are reserved for those who wish you well; Art was pretty sure that if Patrick could, he would drown him without a second thought.

"Why are you so angry, Art? You have everything. You're throwing away years of friendship for anger that has no meaning now," Patrick sipped his soda and took a bite of the vegetables he had ordered. "My anger at you has no meaning?" Art asked, not believing what he was hearing. "Look at you. Next month you're going to be in the Olympics. The money. The fame. All the pussy you can have. Living the dream," Patrick said, not taking his eyes off Art, who snickered in response.

"Here it is," Art said, and Patrick raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his drink. "Here what? You're not the hottest star in world tennis right now? Number 4 in the world, Arthur. It comes with everything," Patrick retorted. The smug look. Art wanted to kick him. He didn't know something could irritate him so much. That someone who was once such a great source of joy in his life, had turned into a figure he despised.

"We're happy, you know?" Art composed himself, refusing to give Patrick the pleasure of unsettling him. "Who is 'we,' Art? You and Tashi?" Patrick replied. "Me and Liana. We're pretty happy. It turns out there was a bug all these years insisting on ruining our relationship, but since it stopped buzzing in our ears, we're truly living the dream. You remember Liana, right?" Art looked him straight in the eye, emitting a coldness that could freeze anyone. Anyone but Patrick.

"Yes, Liana," Patrick smiled, and Art wondered if it was a genuine smile. "Do you need some tips?" he asked, and Art felt his grip around the edge of the sofa tighten. "What tips, Patrick? How to make the sweetest girl in the world miserable? Maybe tips on how to fuck up your life so catastrophically that there's no pity left for you? I mean, can you imagine Liana not caring at all about you? Every time you come up in conversation, she looks like she wants to throw up a little," Art said. His tone betrayed the level of anger he was experiencing. He didn't understand why he had agreed to talk to him at all.

"Did she tell you she likes it when you pull her hair really hard while fucking her?" Patrick said. "Oh my God, I swear you're a 12-year-old," Art almost cut him off. His jaw was clenched with rage. "Come on, we used to talk about girls all the time, Art. Have you tried spanking her? She's really into that, and you'd like it too with all that pent-up anger. Basically, she'd love for you to use her-" Patrick continued, ignoring Art's comment. "I'm done." Art stood up.

"Did she tell you we were pregnant and decided it wasn't the right time?" Art stopped mid-step and turned to him. He felt his words like a punch straight to his gut. "More my decision because Liana's not good at deciding, you know her. She really wanted to be a mom and all that crazy stuff. But it just wasn't the right time in my opinion," Patrick didn't even blink, and Art felt his heart pounding uncontrollably.

"What are you talking about?" Art asked. "You know, kids are something to consider after four years, but why would you know, all this conversation and you haven't said she's your girlfriend even once." The smirk on Patrick's face sharpened. Bingo. He won the discussion. "Good luck at the Olympics. You're really a powerful player. But I wouldn't get used to that so called 'happiness' with Liana, I'm saying this because I care about you." He patted Art on the shoulder twice and left the diner.

Art lost his next match in the tournament. Liana arrived at Art's apartment a few days after he got back. She had been busy with work, and for a change, Art hadn't insisted she come sooner. "Hey," she smiled, and he automatically smiled back. He had learned that it was always like this, no matter what he was going through, if Liana smiled, he smiled too. Annoying trait. Sometimes he wondered if he still had his backbone at all.

"Hey," he mumbled, returning to the living room and focusing on the TV. "What's up?" Liana took off her shoes and felt her eyebrows furrow in concern. This wasn't typical Art behavior. She had seen him after losses before; he was usually angry at himself but always softened when she arrived.

"You know, the usual. Preparing for London," he shrugged and didn't look at her. Liana sat next to him on the sofa. Closer than she would sit any other day. They had been in this routine for almost half a year now. They communicated better than their current level of communication suggested. "Can you look at me?" she asked, giving him a small kiss on the shoulder, feeling his shiver and watching him turn to her slowly and sigh.

"Hey," she said again, smiling and letting her nose touch his. "I'm sorry the tournament didn't go as you wanted." she added, and he closed his eyes, breathing heavily. "Do you want to fuck?" he asked after a few seconds. "I think I need this, need you," and she knew it was probably true. She could help him overcome the gloomy mood he was in. The way he asked, as if he was asking but vulgarly. As if he didn't know that every part of her body screamed his name at any given moment. As if there was a chance she would say 'no.'

"Do you want to fuck me?" she asked with a smile. And Art would never get used to how the delicate girl in front of him could be so slutty. How she could let him do whatever he wanted, and now he wanted to do so much. A bit to punish her for all the things he didn't know. A bit to teach her a lesson. A bit to explain to her that by this stage, it should be clear that he and only he would be the father of her children. But it's not clear to her, and he knows it's not clear to her. Because they don't talk about it. Because they let their lives just happen without paying attention to the small details. Without addressing the asterisks in their agreement.

Liana sat on him and started moving eagerly back and forth, kissing him and making them both moan. She began to place small kisses on his neck, not stopping her movements above him. "I'm going to keep watching TV, and you're going to be a good girl and not disturb me, right?" he asked, looking at her for a second and making her smile and nod. Almost drooling at the idea. Almost falling in love with the thought that he was going to fuck her and act like she wasn't his center of attention, even though they both knew she was.

She took off her shirt and examined him, gently grabbing his hand and placing it on her chest. He played with her nipple without looking at her. Art didn't know who he was punishing more right now, himself or her. But it was the hottest thing they had done in recent times. She felt him harden beneath her, and the moan that escaped her mouth went straight to his ear, causing him to turn her face towards him with a firm hold of her jaw. "If you can't stop disturbing me, you won't cum. Is that what you want?" he asked. And Liana bit her lip and quickly shook her head no. He had never threatened her that he wouldn't let her cum.

"I'll be quiet. Please let me ride you," she begged. Art loved when she begged. He always felt so desperate for her attention and so needy that turning her into this while they fucked was one of his greatest pleasures. "I don't think you're capable of riding me and staying quiet, Lia," he said, biting his lip as he felt her stand up.

"I'll be good." He almost made the most desperate sound he had ever made in his life from the lack of her touch. But Liana stood up to remove his pants and boxers, and he pretended not to watch her as she removed her panties and put them in her own mouth. Lucky he made the rules and couldn't look at her directly, otherwise, he would have cum in the most pathetic way possible.

His dick sank into her perfectly, and her head buried into his shoulder while he continued to pretend to watch TV. What was even on there? He heard her small moans swallowed by the panties she put in her mouth and found himself growling, grabbing her hair and causing her back to arch. He saw her eyes widen a bit, not used to his intensity, trying to understand if it was okay and only saw her nod slightly.

"I can still hear you," he said as she continued to move on his dick, trying to silence every sound that might come out of her. Sweating from the effort. "You see, when you want to be good, you can." he said, not stopping himself from moaning. One hand stabilized her with her hair, and the other held her chest tighter than usual.

Liana was close to cumming and started to clench around his dick, causing him to turn her face towards him by the hair. He didn't care about the TV. He wanted to see her cum. "Be a good girl and cum quietly, Lia," he told her. Wanting to see if she could do it. If she would succeed in the task to please him. She looked perfect with her panties in her mouth, red from the effort, his hand in her hair. Her eyes rolled back, and she came without making a sound.

Art came right after her, gently releasing her hair and stroking her scalp softly, removing the panties from her mouth and tossing them to the floor. He pulled out of her but didn't take her off his leg, refusing to detach from her.

"I missed you," he mumbled, and she giggled. "Not my voice tho," she bit her lip, and they both laughed. "Your voice is the sexiest thing in the world, Lia. Was it too much?" he asked, moving her head so he could study her exhausted face deeply.

"No. But I need you to tell me the truth, okay?" she asked quietly, "You can tell me to fuck off if I'm wrong, alright?" she added. "What?" he smiled, trying to show her she could ask him anything. "Did you talk to Patrick or something?" she asked, seeing Art's body language change completely. But he still held her on him. "Want us to get dressed for a moment?" he sighed, and she nodded, getting up from him and going to his closet to take out one of his shirts she loved to wear when she was at his place.

"How did you know?" he asked quietly after they both sat down on the couch again. Liana, dressed only in his T-shirt, and he in his boxers that he picked up from the floor. "The hair grabbing. It was unusual," her hand moved to her nose for a moment, and she rested her head on the couch, not taking her eyes off him but struggling to hide her tiredness. "Did I hurt you? Was it too much?" he asked again, and she gave him her most sincere smile. "No, Art, everything was fine. It just surprised me," she said, and he nodded.

"He caught me after the game and said all kinds of shit. I let it mess with my head," Art sighed, and Liana placed her hand on his, making calming circular motions. "What did he say?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know but knowing Art deserved not to be alone in this. "Said things about how he..." Art paused to take a deep breath, and she saw it angered him. "Do you really want to hear this? The way he talked about you, Liana. I would never talk about you like that," his jaw tightened.

"It's okay, I know," she nodded. "Said some shit about what you like in bed. The hair. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-" he couldn't complete a coherent sentence. "Art, it's okay. I enjoyed it. Everything's really fine," she nodded, seeing how much it weighed on him. "He also said you were pregnant..." his voice was quiet, and he looked at her with a mix of curiosity and frustration. "Dickhead," Liana muttered and sighed, trying not to look at him.

She wanted to cry. It wasn't Patrick's place to tell. Certainly not to hold it over Art's head. "Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to," Art said, seeing it was hard for her. "No, I guess he said I was a terrible person or something," she muttered. "What? No, he said you wanted to keep the pregnancy, and he insisted it wasn't the right time..." Art looked confused.

"That's what he said?" she chuckled. The tears were in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. "Well, that's not true. He lied to you," she stood up from the bed, feeling like she was sitting on burning coals. "Son of a bitch," she rolled her eyes. "Lia?" Art now not only looked confused, he was utterly bewildered. "He didn't know I was pregnant. The only one who knew at the time was Tashi, that's why I asked you for her number," she said, studying him and seeing his eyes widen in surprise.

"Why would he lie like that?" Art asked aloud. "Because he's a sick fuck who hates the fact that everyone is moving on with their lives except him," Liana fumed at a level Art hadn't seen before. Maybe on that night in his dorms, five years ago. "I swear to you, Art. This guy has no rationale. You know that," she continued. Her leg was twitching as she paced the living room, not looking at him. "I'm sorry," he didn't know what to say and ran his hand behind his head. Liana looked at him and saw his level of panic, knowing she was causing it right now. She stopped and sat closer on the couch in front of him.

"It wasn't planned, and Patrick and I weren't in a good place for months, if not years," she said, observing Art who nodded. "I only told him in Atlanta when we broke up, and I did it horribly because I told you, I was horrible to him." Art looked at her and took a deep breath, running his hand through her hair, moving it away from her face. "I'm sorry I dropped this on you..." he mumbled, feeling guilty for making her remember the whole thing.

"It's okay, but Art. Let's add a clause to our agreement, okay?" she said with an almost uncharacteristic seriousness. "Sure..." he looked confused again. "Don't get me wrong, I love fucking like this. You know I love it kinda rough, it's nothing new to you," she paused to catch her breath, embarrassed a bit by her words, "but don't fuck me because you're mad at me and think it'll solve something, because from my experience it doesn't solve anything, and I spent years like that with someone I sometimes think I hate" she concluded, and he nodded in response. "I'm sor-" he started to apologize again. "No, we're fine. Just, we're better than this. We can talk about things and then fuck like that. Okay?" she added a smile at the end and saw his familiar smirk.

"As long as I can keep fucking you with your panties in your mouth, I'm fine wi-" his tone full of humor was cut off as Liana quickly grabbed her panties from the floor and threw them at him as they both laughed.

'Need to talk to you' was the message Patrick received from Liana in the middle of the night. His heart raced, and he couldn’t help but smile as he sent her his address.

That's how Liana found herself at his place the next afternoon. He wondered if she skipped work for this. “Hey Li-” Her hand on his face cut him off. His head turned sideways from the force of the slap. He felt his cheek throbbing, and all he could do was smile. “Want to come in?” he asked, stepping aside to let her pass.

There was silence. He knew she regretted slapping him, but they both knew he deserved it. “Do you like my place?” he asked, trying to break the ice, unsure how. He hadn’t seen Liana in months. He won his last tournament, the one Art got knocked out of in the second round. He wondered if Liana knew. She was the only person he wanted to tell.

“Yeah, your parents always had good taste in real estate,” she said sarcastically. “Who the fuck you think you are?” She shifted to the real reason she came. “Patrick Zweig, Amand-” “Don’t call me that.” Her leg twitched involuntarily, and Patrick relished it. He knew he was a bastard for being pleased that he still had an effect on her. That he still made her nervous. That she still thought about him.

“Okay, Liana it is,” he raised his hands in mock surrender. “What right do you have to go around telling people I was basically your whore?” she asked, and he raised an eyebrow. “I never said that, Li, and if he told you I called you a whore, he lied. And if he’s lying to you, maybe you shouldn’t be-” “Shut up for once in your life. Can you do that?” she asked, stepping closer to him.

“You didn’t talk about what I like or don’t like in bed? I spent four years of my life with your pathetic ass, and this is what I get? You going aroun, telling people how I like to fuck?” she asked. He saw her jaw clenching in anger and closed his eyes to take a deep breath. “I just gave him some good tips because I know what you like,” he tried to keep his smug tone. “You’re fucking him, you deserve to enjoy it, right?” he added. “Thanks, Patrick, he knows how to fuck me without your help.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah? Did he do it? The hair thing? You cum so quickly when someone pulls your hair, Li. A good girl would say ‘Thank you, Patrick,’ for sharing that with your boy toy.” His heart pounded wildly. He just wanted to look at her a bit longer, knowing that the second she finished yelling at him, she’d leave and wouldn’t want to see him again for a while.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Patrick.” She rolled her eyes again and looked like she was about to slap him one more time. He decided that if she did, he’d catch her hand and wouldn’t let go until she kissed it better because he knew she always gave in eventually. Always happy to let him do whatever he wanted with her in the end. Wondering if it was still like that. Wondering if she hadn’t forgotten how good he could make her feel.

“Oh, did I offend you, Amanda?” he chuckled, trying to provoke her further. “I don’t know why I came here, you’re hopeless, and now I have to add liar to your manipulative résumé.” She walked past him to leave the apartment, but he held her in place, facing him. “Is he your boyfriend?” Patrick asked. “Excuse me?” “Art and you, are you together? Or are you just letting him fuck you?” he asked. She was stunned for a few seconds.

“You’ve got some nerve. Let go of me. Now!” It took her a moment to compose herself, but she eventually raised her voice a bit. To his credit, he immediately let go. “Listen to me carefully, Patrick. You and I don’t exist anymore. You’re not my boyfriend, and you’re not my friend. You’re someone I once knew. If you get hit by a car tomorrow and the hospital calls me, I’ll give them your mother’s number. Do you understand me?” she asked, and he nodded with a half-fake smile, wondering if she really wouldn’t come if the hospital called her in that hypothetical scenario.

“Anything else?” he asked. “If you have any respect for either of us; me or Art, stay away from us. You’ve done enough.” She said, leaving his apartment with a slammed door.

Liana didn’t answer whether she and Art were in a relationship. That’s what he chose to take away from that conversation.

OK, I feel like you guys might come for my blood after this one. Please don't kill me tho 🙏🏻 I wanna know what you think as always, so talk to me, it makes my day 💜🤍

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[sideprince]

Hi! 3, 13, 15, and 22 for the snape asks?

3. Do you consider Lily a good friend?

I don't think we know enough about Lily to consider her a good friend or otherwise (side eyeing JKR for all her flatly written female characters, but especially for throwing any hope of character development for Lily under the bus for the sake of the big reveal at the end of DH). What I do think of Lily is that when she and Snape were friends they were very young. They were only 15, maybe 16, when their friendship ended. You're still figuring out who you are at that age, and friendships often fall apart then. Sometimes they heal, sometimes they don't. I had two friendships come apart at the seams when I was 16; one never recovered, and the other did and ended up becoming stronger and we're still very close.

I think Lily didn't understand what Snape was dealing with at home and at school, and wouldn't have had the emotional intelligence to, at that age. That isn't to say 16 year olds aren't emotionally intelligent by any means! Rather that, at that age you're still learning about the world, about yourself, and if you haven't experienced abuse then it's really really hard to understand it. Even kids that age who are experiencing abuse don't really understand it yet. It takes years to process and really comprehend how abuse works, how and why it's insidious, and what it does to a person. It says a lot that before it was revealed on Pottermore that Snape's dad beat him with a belt, there were people who read about his dad shouting a lot and understood the allusion to abuse, and others who read it to mean his dad was just cranky.

Abuse gets downplayed easily and often, sometimes even by the people suffering from it. I don't think Lily had the ability to be the friend Snape needed; I don't think anyone did. And he certainly didn't know what he needed from a friend either. The two of them were also of an era when the understanding of a home life like Snape's wasn't, "that man is terrible, he hits his son" but rather "behave yourself and don't anger your father, you know how he gets." In other words, there was a lot more victim blaming. The same goes for being bullied at school, especially at a British school. The mantra was "keep your head down and don't let them know they're getting to you and maybe they'll leave you alone," whereas now the onus is on bullies to stop their behavior.

As little as we know about Lily, I don't think she was a bad friend to Snape, she just didn't know what he needed, or what danger he was in from radicalization. What we can infer from the books, though, is that she defended him to her friends for some time and stayed his friend even when her other friends tried to dissuade her, so there must have been a good amount of affection there. I think the anger we see her show him is more about a feeling of disappointment or betrayal than any kind of hatred. The way she stands up to James, even though it has an element of sexual tension between the two of them, also speaks to a fierce loyalty with which she defends her friend. It seems like there was probably tension between Lily and Snape by then, since he lashes out at her and their subsequent argument has a very "the last straw" vibe, but that loyalty, and the love underlying it, is there.

13. How do you think Snape treats his own House?

I think he treats them like every other Hogwarts teacher treats theirs. We're told by Harry in the books that he gives his house preferential treatment, and he hears this from one of the Weasley brothers when he arrives at Hogwarts, but we mostly see Snape give Malfoy preferential treatment, not his whole house. Even when he gives the Slytherins that note that they can use the Quidditch pitch to practice, it's because Malfoy is on the team. This can be for a number of reasons, but likely because of his personal relationship with Lucius Malfoy and the latter's extent of influence (which can go both ways - people like that can make your life much easier and more comfortable, but can also ruin it if you anger them, especially if they have direct power over you such as being on the board of governors of the school you teach at and having a personal relationship with high ranking government officials).

Giving his house team permission to practice on the pitch is also a much less consequential move than McGonagall bending school rules so Harry can play on his house team as a first year AND get a free broomstick (an expensive one at that, when the school has a set of brooms already that he could have borrowed - and we know from PoA that he could have just ordered one for himself). Snape doesn't hand out praise to Slytherins, he's just more likely to overlook their mistakes. But again, we see this through Harry's biased lens - and he's always in class with Neville, who melts so many cauldrons and explodes so many potions that he shouldn't be allowed into class without a fire extinguisher strapped to him.

Overall I think Snape is a generally strict teacher. As has been pointed out by others, he never awards points, he only deducts them, yet his house won the house cup for something like six years in a row before Harry came along. Every Hogwarts teacher favors their own house in one way or another, Snape is just cast in a bad light because our narrator is Harry and he sure is biased.

15. If he’d lived, how do you think he would have gone on with his life?

I answered this a few months ago apparently, here. Tl;dr he would have led a quiet life developing cures at St. Mungo's - it would have allowed him to indulge his intellectual curiosity, have status, and assuage his guilt since he would be helping people.

22. If someone put a gun to Snape’s head and told him to pick a favorite out of the Golden Trio, who do you think he’d pick?

Someone else just asked this one too! I answered it here.

[flow-it-show-it]

Calan Gaeaf

Gathering Fiki Trick or Treat 2023 10/22 TRICK prompt submission: The God of Harvest receives whatever sacrifice the God of Harvest desires

RATED: Gen

Pairing: Fili/Kili from the Isca Silurum world of @linane-art to whom this is dedicated

Content warning: Omen of death

Synopsis: A harvest festival custom stirs fear of an untimely fate.

Author's note: This is meant as an autumn companion piece to my early-summer story Nos Calan Haf. As "Nos Calan Haf" is summer's eve, Calan Gaeaf is the first day of winter after the harvest. Here, the God of Harvest is never named but hovers just behind the surface of things.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51269722

______________________

I don’t understand, said Kíli.

The remains of the coelcerth smoldered faintly in the frosty morning air.  Most of the villagers had already pawed through its ashes, found their prizes, and stumbled home to sleep off the previous night’s carousals.  But by some sorcery, Kíli found himself anchored to this spot.

I don’t understand, he repeated.  It ought to be here.

Yester-eve had marked harvest’s end.  Crops in and slaughter complete, the Silures met on the greensward to rejoice over cider, honeycomb, and nine-root stew.  Silhouetted against the bonfire’s flames, they celebrated without restraint, as if night and winter did not both approach—and swiftly.  But as the day’s last light dwindled, Silures young and old wended their way to the bonfire.  Into it each cast a stone painstakingly scratched with their own name.  Come morning, if all went well, they’d find their stones made clean and pure by the flames, nameless once more as stones ought to be.

The problem lay in not finding one’s stone at all.  For then, it was said, you’d go the way of your name within a year.

Puzzled, Fíli unfolded Kíli’s slack fingers to reveal a palmful of greasy soot.  Are you sure this side of the fire is where you cast it?

I wasn’t so drunk that I’d forget where I stood.

What did it look like?

Greyish, as large as hen’s egg, with a little dip where my thumb fit.  Kíli demonstrated on a phantom stone.  It’s how I held it still while I graved my name.  He squeezed his eyes shut, as if simply imagining the stone would magically summon it to his hand.  When it did not, he stamped the earth in frustration.

For the sake of his people as well as his husband, Fíli kept his voice soothingly low.  Don’t fret over it, my love.  It doesn’t mean anything.

Kíli’s irritable gaze swung toward his companion. You speak as if this fear is mine alone, when you know that’s not so.  You yourself explained the lore to me, and I have seen it come true twice.  Remember Bedwyr?  And Gwilim?

Bedwyr had been ill for a year before he died, rebutted Fíli, drawing his woolen cloak tighter around his shoulders.  He didn’t need a stone to tell him his time had come. As for Gwilim…  He tossed his head in contempt.  Even the smallest child of our tribe knows it’s madness to hunt boar during their winter rut— and in the dead of night, no less.  Gwilim always had a reckless streak, a taste for the forbidden.  His own stupidity killed him, not a stone.

But I’ve done nothing reckless, forbidden, or stupid!  Roughened by the anger in which fear so often clothes itself, Kíli’s voice – normally calm and even – came out as a growl.  I’ve followed all the laws and customs of your tribe as you taught them to me.  I’ve participated in all the rites permitted an outsider—

Not an outsider.  One of us.

And therefore subject to the will and whim of your gods—

Though he let himself be steered, Kili dragged his feet all the way to the holy man’s hut.  In the main, he’d embraced his adoptive people and their ways, but he could not ignore his instinctive dread of Gwalchmei.

Who wish their people well, not ill! Fíli objected.  Remember two harvests ago, when Dilys’ winter-eve stone could not be found?  She was with child then, and everyone feared she might die in the throes of birth.  Yet little Cerigyn came with no difficulty, and both mother and child are hale and happy.  Isn’t that proof that not all omens are doom-laden?  He twisted a corner of Kíli’s cloak around his fingers and gave it a tug.  Whatever we Silures face, be it blessing or curse, Gwalchmei explains it to us.  Let us go and see him.

The previous night, the druid displayed himself naked and stained head to foot with blood from the slaughter— a fearsome sight that infused Kíli’s pre-dawn dreams with dark unease.  But this morning, Gwalchmei looked like any other villager— bleary-eyed from cider and sheltering from the harsh, head-splitting sun. 

What have you for me? he said, unpleasant as ever.

As was proper, Fíli took charge of their half of the parley.  Bowing slightly to Gwalchmei, he replied, Kíli’s winter-eve stone is missing from the coelcerth.

A sardonic sniff.  He should return to Rome to look for it. 

Gwalchmei may have been justified in returning Kíli’s disdain, but Fíli had no patience for a sparring match.  We want to know what can be done, he stated firmly.

Gwalchmei inhaled deeply and let out a protracted groan.  Drama, it seemed, was fully part of the druidic curriculum.  He’d kept them on the doorstep long enough to determine their motive; to not invite them in now would be rude. 

For Gwalchmei, rudeness came naturally.

The moment they cleared the threshold, he motioned roughly to Kíli.  Come here.

Obedience led to a literal manhandling.  Kíli found himself grabbed, thumped, and prodded fore and aft.  Two large hands seized his cheeks and pulled him in for an uncomfortably close nose-to-nose examination, then spun him and pummeled his shoulder blades like a drum...

Hm, said Gwalchmei.

Hm? questioned Fíli.

They make these Romans large, don’t they.

That, they do.

Would take a lot to bring him down.

Not as much as you’d think—

ArraREERooo yoh, said Kíli in the midst of having his teeth perused as if he was a prize horse.  He meant to say I can HEAR you, you know, but sensed correctly that his companions were already well aware of it.

At last Gwalchmei let Kíli go.  Scuffing across the hard-packed earthen floor, he flipped open the lid to a yew-wood chest and removed a folded cloth, which he carefully spread upon the ground.  From a leather pouch he extracted a fistful of what appeared like peeled sticks.  Each had been scored with a linear symbol into which soot had been rubbed to make them more legible.  Gwalchmei unceremoniously flung the entire bundle up into the air.  Down the twigs rained upon the cloth, landing every which way but none touching the floor.

Hm, said Gwalchmei.

Hm? questioned Fíli.

The staves do not foretell a swift end, but rather a long one.  Pause.  An exceedingly long one.

Fíli scowled to conceal his mirth.  How long would you say?

Well, you’d know better than me—

Enough, growled Kíli.  In contrast to the dignified augury practiced in Roman Londinium, this tossing-about of twigs and unseemly jest at his expense smacked of hazing.

With a sigh, Gwalchmei stooped to gather up his twigs.  Lad, there’s nothing to tell you, he muttered to the floor.  You’re healthy as an ox and in no danger from the spirits.  Thirty or so years from now, you’ll die in a comfortable bed— that is, if our chieftain doesn’t grow weary of you sooner.

Kíli started forward and halted Gwalchmei’s hand before he could sheathe the twigs in their leather scabbard. 

What do those markings tell you? he demanded.  What do they say?

You know what they are.

I’ve seen them, yes, but I don’t know what they mean.

Now it was Gwalchmai’s turn to be puzzled.  Then by the heavens, how did you inscribe your stone?  Did Fíli do it for you?  Because by rights it’d then be Fíli’s, and were it me who lost the chieftain’s stone, I’d make sure to be halfway back to Rome by nightfall.

I wrote it in my own language, not the Silures’.

Absolute silence in the round house.  From a distance, one could hear the croak of a raven calling to its kin.

Gwalchmai turned in a circle, searching, then snatched up an iron skewer from atop a basket of hearthfire peat fuel.  Show me.  Scribe it in the dust, here at our feet.

Kíli did as he was told.

K D LEG AVG

Ah, said Fíli, who could read and understand. 

Gwalchmai – who also could read and understand, but who would rather have taken a spear-wound than admit so – stood lordly over the letters.  Now answer what you asked of me:  what do these marks mean?

They are the abbreviated form of my name followed by my rank, replied Kíli. ‘Kilius Durinus Legatus Augusti’—  Governor by the Emperor’s wish.

Well, there is your problem, countered Gwalchmei, snatching back his skewer.  You’re no such thing here.  As long as you stand on our soil or sleep under our chieftain’s roof, your Roman name and rank are meaningless.  Had you written them in our tongue, in our ogham, perhaps the fire would have given your stone back clean. 

Chastened, Kíli stood silent.

I’ll also say you’re not much of a governor back at your own fort, either, continued Gwalchmei.  Unless a governor is what you call a puling lovelorn fool. That’s as true written in ogham as in your foreign markings. But so long as you’re here – Gwalchmei tossed the skewer back atop the peat basket – use ours, would you? It’s only polite.

Strolling hand in hand with Fíli back to their round house, Kíli.  I suppose he’s right.  When I’m here, I should abide by your ways.

They’re becoming your ways now, but still you cling to Rome, suggested Fíli.  You’re not ready to come all the way over.  But you might in time.  A thought struck him.  Kílius Durinus Legatus Augusti is fading.  Perhaps he’ll be gone within a year, and you will remain.

Kíli took a deep breath and gave it back to the rose-gold morning in a puff of white mist.  He squeezed Fíli’s hand. 

As my Emperor wishes, said he.

[the-golden-comet]

✨OC Interaction Tag✨

Thank you for the tag, @willtheweaver ! ✨

Your OC: Playa

Granddaughter of the village chief, Playa sometimes wishes she wasn’t. As a fox who values hard work and reaching her goals fair and square, she hates the favoritism and nepotism that most of the adults show her. As a result she prefers the company of younger members of the village .She has dreams of becoming a hunter and has little interest in politics. However, her strong sense of duty, caring nature, and moral compass means that she would (reluctantly) cast her own interests aside for the sake of the community.

My OC: Tyr from ITROG

Tyr is a 22 year old son of a village chief, and is a member of the only human tribe known in existence in the realm of giants. This tribe lives in a protective dome, guarded by runes and ancient magic that keeps the giant flora and fauna out, though the humans can pass through the barrier. However, this is forbidden by the village chief, Tyr’s dad, on account that the outside world is far too dangerous for humans, and wants to try resolving the conflict another way.

A stubborn young man, Tyr tries reasoning with his father, as rations are beginning to wane, and the soil is not producing enough crops. Thinking he could go gather crops the size of houses back on caravans, Tyr argues with his father on what is best for their people, versus how dangerous the world outside their dome is. How much risk is Tyr willing to take, and how big are the rewards?

Their interaction:

There is a reason I chose Tyr to interact with Playa. Both are kin of village chiefdom, are looking after their communities, don’t favor the nepotism, and demonstrate leadership skills and a willingness to step up to the plate. I feel Playa and Tyr would find commonality in their frustrations, feeling validated in each other’s struggles, and start collaborating on ways they could help their respective communities. They won’t agree on everything, but at least it won’t be the butting of heads that Tyr is used to from his bullheaded father.

Thank you for the tag again! I’m going to leave this +open for anyone who wishes to join and interact with Tyr! ✨

[rarepairnation]

6, 13 and 22 for the ask game?

hi friend!!! thank u for sending these<3 i was gonna ask you if you wanted to send different questions bc there’s a couple repeats from the last ask but then i came up with new answers. if you still wanna send diff ones though i will answer them as well

6. which ship fans are the most annoying

ACTUALLY LMFAO I LIED IN THE LAST ONE. i think (hope?) you’ll find this one funny lol well the 0.5 people in the denethorongil ao3 tag who are just there for crack. girl the psychic situationship. that is so fucking interesting. this is like the reverse answer. which ship NON fans are the most annoying. Anyway. i think it just pisses me off whenever a dynamic that could be so thematically (and dramatically) intriguing gets dismissed or made into a joke bc like. come on is that the best we can do? perhaps i just frequently lack a sense of humour about this kind of thing. or maybe people mostly are not funny…who can say.

13. worst blorbofication…TWO!

now is my time to SHINE baby….little pathetic baby faramir is SUCH a textbook fucking case of blorbofication. that shit is ridiculous. yeah the idea of a punching bag dad to take shit out on and/or guy bending over backwards just for his dad's approval appeals to you. unrelatedly how is your relationship with your dad. but i swear to god i KNOW that there are other characters out there that fit this archetype better. there are PLENTY of sad little people pleasers out there. dont take one of the greatest bitchest craziest men in the whole wide green world and make him your little crybaby. if you read the denethor faramir relationship as abusive you gotta also understand that he is right there punching back at it all. goddamn. he had gone on the orders of the lord of the city indeed. peter jackson im gonna fucking get you. this is a guy that first blamed his brothers death on their father and THEN promptly forced said father to order him to his probable death for the sake of his own moral code he has never once laid down and taken it in his LIFE. he’s been arguing back since he was like seven years old or something. in MANY THINGS he displeased his father! he is not a doormat he is a motherfucking doorstop and he WILL make it your problem! also i don’t have anywhere else to put this opinion so it’s gonna go here. it hit me sometime yesterday that the desperate-to-please faramir narrative almost works better with canon denethor. i mean film faramir is a totally different guy so like im not even sure if he would have the same history with his father but like just bear with me here. if he knows that his father trusts him as a commander and yet cannot (seem to express, although failing to express for long enough is basically equivalent) love him as a son…that he has memories of… actually just kidding this doesn’t fucking work at all. because the POINT of it all is that denethor and faramir are the same until they’re not. sly and tactical and cunning and so so so numenorean that elros tar-minyatur would WEEP. while i think film faramir and book denethor are - if not diametric opposites, at least not. so similar. i mean peter jackson literally blorbified him himself. here is my new guy with maybe one of his key traits preserved. man when i reblog a film faramir gif im just imagining book faramir’s personality. i hope you all understand this. i just. i DO love david wenham’s faramir face. he put so so so much 100% home grown bitch energy into the capturing frodo and sam scene faramir and i am simply imagining him translating all that onto "on one occasion at least your counsel has prevailed, not long ago. it was the lord of the city that gave the errand to him." now THAT…oh captain my captain. do you get it

22. your favourite part of canon that everyone else ignores

on one occasion at least your counsel has prevailed not long ago/stir not the bitterness in the cup i poured for myself. people LOOOVE you wish now that our places had been exchanged but read two more lines girlypop IT GETS BETTER. i mean people smarter than me have figured it out already but "restraint"…the idea of faramir having been holding this back for a long time. perhaps even since he first realized boromir was dead and thinking oh. oh, father sent him, or agreed to let him go, or however it went down, and now he is dead and it is father's fault. jesus christ that makes me crazy. and denethor basically saying what else do you think i have been thinking about for weeks. do you dare to think this is new news to me im not the heartless bitch you think i am. of course i blame myself. ARE YOU KIDDING? this is like the entire dynamic contained in two lines of dialogue. i had a runner-up answer but im too sleepy to write it all out but ill tell you what it is and its how WEIRD denethor and faramir are. theyre so weird you guys. i am psychic and prophetic and i WILL make it your problem.

[empathetic]

Honestly I don’t think people in leftist communities are talking nearly enough about cis women’s issues anymore. And I don’t mean cis as in relation to trans women, I’m saying cis women in reference to the fact that misogyny and patriarchy are very real things that do affect cis woman on the basis of their sex. And this shouldn’t be a controversial or TERF-y thing to say because it’s literally true.

From a personal experience as an Indian woman raised Muslim: a few years ago, two of my female cousins my age who live in India had to get married as soon as their dad passed unexpectedly because their mom was unable to get her own education to provide for the family, and they needed the support of potential husbands. My cousins were 19 and 20 when they got married. The 19 year old has barely turned 22 and already has 2 children. She had to stop going to school and her entire life is about her marriage, kids, and family. And another cousin said that her husband doesn’t let her watch TV so she has to watch when he’s not home. And when I went to india I’ve had every single woman I’ve met and talked to for more than a minute in passing ask me when I’m getting married. For fucks sakes my grandma even tried to arrange marriages for me without my permission and I’m barely turning 22 this month, and wants me to try to marry my fucking COUSIN so that i can be further controlled.

I had a convo w my mom about how rampant misogyny is in her home city in india. How she was asked what her husbands name was so she could pick up her own medicine from the pharmacy, and she asked “why do you need that information?” so the guy at the counter then asked her (a 50 year old woman) for her FATHERS name. About the women she and I know.. women who had to quit their jobs because their husbands don’t want them working, even if it means that there is less income to provide for their families because the husbands a deadbeat and still expects his wife to do all the domestic labor for him too while he literally does nothing. Women who are forced to lose their entire lives for their families and husbands’ patriarchal expectations and have children they didn’t truly want or stop going to school. Women who can’t get a divorce from abusive men because it will deem them worthless and damaged so nobody will want to marry them or even their daughters.

Women who can’t go out alone or without a man because they’ll get harassed or assaulted by men. Women who wear niqab or burqa because they get harassed and assaulted by men, but it not mattering because the men already know what their body shape looks like and what their eyes look like and what shoes they wear. Women who get assaulted anyways. Women who are made to believe that they need to cover up and be ashamed of themselves because men are perverted monsters that can’t help but rape every woman he could get his hands on. Women who don’t know what marital rape is because it’s completely normalized and that’s just what sex is, right? Women who are abused by their husbands when they don’t meet their demands, sexual or not, and comply because they don’t want to keep getting beaten or berated. Women who are deemed impure when they’re on their periods. Women who are constantly treated like second class citizens, born as property of their fathers and then passed on as property of their husbands, because they are just seen as baby-making machines and sex dolls.

And there is obviously so much more than this.. this is purely what I’ve seen and dealt with personally. And it’s infuriating that it seems like nobody ever really wants to talk about this because it’s somehow controversial to even acknowledge that cis women are treated as inferior to men under patriarchy due to their biological sex. They are treated as inferior because they have vaginas that can be penetrated and uteri that can carry a fetus. This is how patriarchy operates in the first place, whether we like it or not. In an ideal world, patriarchy wouldn’t exist and we wouldn’t have to think of cis women’s oppression on the basis of their genitalia and reproductive organs because.. well.. that oppression wouldn’t exist. But it does! And so we might as well fucking talk about it and find ways to empower women who are unable to do so. There’s more we can do besides online discourse that such women can’t even participate in because they aren’t even allowed to!!!

[yhwhrulz]

Charles Spurgeon's "Morning & Evening" Devotional for September 25

Morning

“Take up the cross.”

Mark 10:17-31

Mark 10:17

An inquiry which had been put to him before, but this time it came from one who thought that he had already done all that would entitle him to eternal bliss. The question was not “What is the way of salvation?” but, “How can I merit heaven?”

Mark 10:18

The questioner did not know that Jesus was God, and therefore he ought not to have called him good.

Mark 10:19

If a man would win heaven by works he must keep these commands and more.

Mark 10:20 , Mark 10:21

If he loved God supremely, as the law required, here was a test for him. We are not all called to relinquish our property; but if Jesus bade us do so, and we refused, it would prove that we loved the world better than God, and therefore were very far from keeping the commandments.

Mark 10:22

He could not stand the test. He thought that he loved God best, but soon discovered that he did not.

Mark 10:24

And the disciples were astonished at his words.

For the Rabbis gave the rick all the advantage, and thought the salvation of the poor almost hopeless.

Mark 10:24

Trusting in riches is the great evil rather than the having of them, though the two things of ten go together.

Mark 10:25-28

But it was a poor little all an old ship and a few worn out nets. Peter’s usual rashness led him to mention the sacrifice he and his friends had made; in after years he was more modest.

Mark 10:29 , Mark 10:30

Even here the Lord Jesus is to us a hundredfold more than houses or relatives could be, and when he is near we rejoice to suffer for his sake.

Ye glittering toys of earth, adieu,

A nobler choice be mine;

A real prize attracts my view,

A treasure all divine.

Jesus to multitudes unknown,

Oh, name divinely sweet!

Jesus, in thee, in thee alone,

Wealth, honour, pleasure, meet.

Should both the Indies at my call,

Their boasted stores resign,

With joy I would renounce them all,

For leave to call thee mine.

Should earth’s vain treasures all depart,

Of this dear gift possess’d,

I’d clasp it to my joyful heart,

And be for ever bless’d.

Evening

“Why stand ye here all the day idle?”

Matthew 20:1-16

Matthew 20:1 , Matthew 20:2

Each man is called upon to work for the Lord, and in doing so he will find an abundant reward. The penny promised was sufficient maintenance for the day, and was regarded as a fair wage. No man shall ever have cause to complain that he served God for nought. Those are happiest who enter his service early in the morning.

Matthew 20:3 , Matthew 20:4

Till we serve God we are idlers. However busy we may be we do nothing till we live for God.

Matthew 20:5

The half of the day was gone, yea, three-fourths of it, and yet this patient householder engaged the labourers. If half our life, or even three-fourths, be gone, the Lord will still receive us, for his hirings are not after the manner of men.

Matthew 20:7

This showed that the hiring of labourers in this case was not an act of necessity but of bounty, or surely the householder would not have hired men just as the sun was setting. In the Lord’s vineyard grace alone chooses, calls, hires, and pays the workers.

Matthew 20:9

However late in life a man may be converted he shall enjoy the same privileges and promises as others. Free grace gives freely and does not upbraid.

Matthew 20:12

This ungenerous spirit will creep in even among the servants of God, but it deserves to be cast out with detestation. We ought to rejoice in the richness of divine love to aged converts. Envy of another’s spiritual privileges is most unseemly in a child of God.

Matthew 20:13-15

The sovereignty of God is vindicated as much in the enjoyments and privileges of saints as in their election to eternal life. In making all his people equally dear to his heart, equally safe in Christ, and equal in justification and adoption, the Lord as much displays his undoubted right to do as he wills with his own, as when he chooses a certain number of sinners, and allows others to continue in their sins.

Matthew 20:16

Those who start in religion and promise great things frequently disappoint us, while others of whom we despaired bring forth good fruit. Many are called by the Gospel, but few are really elect of God, and so obey the call from the heart; and out of these only a remnant become eminent for grace. Choice men are rare even among the chosen.

While our days on earth are lengthen’d,

May we give them, Lord, to thee;

Cheer’d by hope, and daily strengthen’d,

May we run, nor weary be;

Till thy glory,

Without clouds in heaven we see.

Copyright Statement This resource was produced before 1923 and therefore is considered in the "Public Domain".

[taleforquill]

As promised, here's my very belated April 2023 wrap-up. I originally posted this to my Instagram in early May, but I forgot I could post it to Tumblr too 😅.

I read 13 books in April. Quite a lot, but many of them were audiobooks and manga volumes (which I always get through faster).

In April I finally started my Hunger Games reread and I really, really enjoyed it. 13 year old me thought the first book was okay, and the rest sucked. But 13 year old me was also completely incapable of media literacy. 22 year old me thinks the books are mindblowingly good.

During April I also continued the Shatter Me series (which I still do not enjoy), and I decided to read some books I'd been hyping up in my mind. Mainly: The Turn of the Screw and Red, White and Royal Blue.

I'll start with Red, White and Royal Blue.

God... What a disappointment. I was a bit hesitant about it to begin with because it's a mlm story written by a non-man (as far as I'm aware). And while I do think that people can write about whatever they want, I prefer to read own-voices when it comes to queer books.

This book is disgustingly millenial. It centres 2 Gen Z kids who prefer to calls themselves millenials "because the press likes them better that way." Which is such bullshit (avocado toast, anyone?) that my brain can't even comprehend it.

It is also filled to the brim with H*rry P*tter references. This book came out in 2019! R*wling's TERF behaviour was well-known, even then. Millenials really need to let that series go. Get a fucking grip.

The author is projecting their own Millenial thoughts on Gen Z kids and it just doesn't work. It feels wrong. I'm reading about people in their early 20s, who think and act like they're in their mid-thirties.

No fucking self-respecting Gen Z would say "wow, you're definitely a Hufflepuff". Not even ironically. Yet it happens in this book. Multiple times.

They call a dog a Slytherin for fucks sake.

The way Alex interacted with his siblings also gave me the ick. Besides, he had no reason to hate Henry. And the press acted quite unrealistically and was only a problem for the characters when the plot demanded it. I'm also a bit too cynical to believe in a world where a divorced female US president with an interracial family could exist.

So yeah, rant over. But the Turn of the Screw was kind of disappointing too.

I expected to get the Haunting of Bly Manor in book form. And I kind of did? Even the lesbian tension was there. It just wasn't as good as the show. And I still highly prefer the show over this book.

I also finished the Attack On Titan manga, which I've been reading on and off for 10 years. I haven't liked it much since the Marley arc started and I still have very mixed feelings about it. I'll never forget how mindblowing the anime was when I was 13. And how much I enjoyed the first ±90 chapters.

But then it turned kind of meh and everything started dragging on for way too long. And the blatant imperialism and possible fascism and antisemitism came up. And just no.

So yeah, now that I've finished it, I'll let it go. Maybe I'll think about it once or twice but I definitely won't post about it (not in a positive context anyway).

ART: A Thorn amidst Roses by James Sant (1887)

Edit by me.

[up-in-flames-writing]

I posted 1,073 times in 2022

That's 738 more posts than 2021!

37 posts created (3%)

1,036 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@writting-in-blood

@bookerbluedragon

@treasures-and-beauty

@peashooter85

@insomniac-dot-ink

I tagged 1,072 of my posts in 2022

#reblog - 1,023 posts

#weapons - 324 posts

#swords - 209 posts

#about writing - 121 posts

#daggers - 106 posts

#writing advice - 82 posts

#writing memes - 80 posts

#writing inspiration - 78 posts

#writing meme - 63 posts

#poetry - 58 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#completely ignoring the fact hes a mentally disabled man whos struggling to make ends meet & atruggling to live with himself & all hes done

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Pride commissions

Happy Pride month, folks!

In lieu of the gayest month of the year, I'm opening up Pride commissions, cause I'm a broke queer who needs to pay for his pet rabbit! Yeah, ya heard me right! I'm opening up event commissions before my actual commissions! Isn't that great?

So, this is how this'll look:

If anyone wants a short story or fanfic with a theme of queerness (anything gay, bi, ace, trans, even polyam, literally anything queer) hit me up. All of them are a flat rate of £5 (not DOLLARS, pounds, do the math, don't skimp out) & all of them will be between 1k & 2k words.

If you want a short story, this is how it will work: Send me a private message through tumblr, with a screenshot proving you've tipped me 5 bucks through tumblr (I am not comfortable sharing my paypal account at this moment in time), as well as a synopsis of what you want me to write about. You can ask me for a number of fandoms, & I will let you know if it's something I can write for. And if you want a story featuring your characters, please link me to a few posts talking about said characters so that I can get a feel for their voice & how they act. You can also commission me for multiple stories, although be realistic please, I still have my own life to lead.

Here's also the link to my AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpInFlamesWriting

At the end of June, I will post all of the fanfic commissions at once. If you asked for an original piece, I will send that to you when it's done.

And if anyone wants to request a poetry commission (Pride-themed or otherwise), my rate is £1 per line, with a minimum of 5 lines & a maximum of 20. I will let you know how long the poem is for you to tip me, & then I will send it over.

I also do flower poetry:

This is a piece I made for a friend. For poetry of this style, I will be taking a flat rate of £15, & you can choose the type of flower you want the poem to be about, & I will expect pre-payment as with the fics. If you want a different font, do let me know & I will adjust it accordingly, but for more complex fonts I will be taking an additional £10 for a £25 total. (For transparency's sake, the flower drawing is a tracing of a picture, I didn't draw it. I traced over a digital real life picture of a flower, but I do know how to draw flowers in real life)

With that said, happy Pride everyone! Stay safe, keep fighting for your rights, & never stop being proud of who you are.

22 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

#4

Slava Ukraini

I am Booker Feniks. I am a Polish writer & poet. I stand with Ukraine, & send my best wishes to everyone fighting the good fight. May the old gods watch over you all.

29 notes - Posted March 1, 2022

#3

Yo! I have a Ko-fi now! If you peeps like the work I do, please consider tipping me a coffee! Can’t say I’ll drink it, I’m more of a tea guy, but I’ll still really appreciate it!

https://ko-fi.com/upinflameswriting

40 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

#2

Trans day of Visibility 2021-2022

Happy Trans Day of Visibility! I am a trans writer, & I am making myself visible with these two poems for this special day!

48 notes - Posted March 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

To preface this: I am yet to watch Our Flag Means Death, but I have read the original Good Omens novel.

And, quite frankly: I am pissed at people who are comparing the two (for good reason) & then saying that OFMD is better than Good Omens because it isn't 'queerbaiting'. That because it has explicit gay rep, it is somehow better (but, quite frankly, I've only seen that being said on twitter, luckily.)

&, sure, you can be happy about explicit gay rep & funny pirates, I'm happy about it too! But to tear down Good Omens just to uplift OFMD is a horrid, acephobic thing to do.

Yes, you've heard that right, calling Good Omens queerbaiting is ace & arophobic. Because Good Omens isn't a tale of two gay men in gay love. It is a tale of two genderless & sexless beings being in love. It is a tale that is FULL of love, without the sex or the kissing. It is a tale that I, & many others who are ace &/or aro can recognise! It is love without the romance, love without the sex, but still so explicitly LOVE, even without the markers of what the heteronormative society deems as love.

All you allos are entitled pissy brats if you think Good Omens is queerbaiting. You are so stuck up each other's asses that you can't fathom a love story not have sex or even fucking kissing! Isn't this what we used to fucking fight for? To desexualise gay sex so that stuck up, self-righteous Christian bigots stopped seeing our love as something inherently sexual? & now you dare turn around & dishonour a queer love story because it is not 'explicit' enough for you. You are all pathetic, hypocritical assholes, & I am not afraid to say it. The community doesn't stop at gays & lesbians, & the A is there for a damn good reason. Do better, or shut the fuck up.

109 notes - Posted April 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[gojoandtojisleftnut]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

Chapter 3: Signs

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x female reader

Genre: slow burn ig.

A/n & possible tw: Small chapter I’m sorry I’ve been so busy getting ready for my trip. <3 Tsumiki’s mom is named Kaori and Mamaguro Hikari for the sake of this fic.

Previous. Next.

READ AUTHORS NOTE

“Who was that?” the woman asked Toji, looking at him from her peripheral vision still walking with her daughter in hand.

Toji didn’t really know what to answer to be honest. Who were you to him? The only thing he knew was that he couldn’t really take you out of his mind. “She worked there she helped Megumi pick what he wanted.” He simply stated not looking at his wife.

“I’m so stupid”. Toji thought. Sitting on his side of the bed alone in his bedroom, while Kaomi was cooking dinner. He looks at his bedside table opening the drawer, the picture of his dead ex wife looking back at him. He found himself taking to her when he felt distressed or in a dead end. “Tell me what to do Hikari. You always knew what to do and say.” He picks up the frame. A little piece of paper he didn’t realize he grabbed with it falling on the bed in front of his folded legs.

“I’m so stupid”. Toji thought. Sitting on his side of the bed alone in his bedroom, while Kaomi was cooking dinner. He looks at his bedside table opening the drawer, the picture of his dead ex wife looking back at him. He found himself taking to her when he felt distressed or in a dead end. “Tell me what to do Hikari. You always knew what to do and say.” He picks up the frame. A little piece of paper he didn’t realize he grabbed with it falling on the bed in front of his folded legs.

He takes the piece of paper still holding the picture in his other hand. Your phone number. He wrote it down onto a piece of paper when he came back home the day he met you. “Is this the way of telling me what to do Hikari?. Please.” He thought still looking at the scribbled numbers.

His thoughts were interrupted by the bedroom door creaking open. “Daddy..” I tiny voice called. Little feet and black spiky hair entering the room, a little frog plushie in hand. The little boy climbs on to the bed and settles himself between his dads legs. “Hey little man.” Toji kisses his son’s head and notices how the boy takes the framed picture of his mom in his tiny hands.

Sometimes Toji wished Megumi looked more like Hikari. Even though he’s grateful he has a little twin. At least he knows Meg took every bit of kindness from his mother. “Is that mama daddy?” “Yes bud. She’s beautiful isn’t she?” Little Gumi nods his head slowly “She’s as beautiful as the girl at the café.”

The boy’s words make Toji freeze. He thinks everything is a sign now. First the piece of paper then his son calls you beautiful. It must be a sign right?

“It must be a sign right? Nothing has happened. I need to realize that he would never give up what he has. A stable home for a 22 year old girl.” You groan at your own words. You really keep beating yourself up over this whole situation and you really don’t understand why. Why do you have so much faith in something that barely exists?

You start to walk home from the café. It’s a 10 minute walk actually so you don’t mind it. It’s the only form of exercise you’ll ever tolerate. Although, your mind drifts back to Toji and your encounter earlier that day. “If he was here, especially by foot that means he lives somewhere near!” You express your thoughts rather loudly earning weird looks by everyone.

The idea of him living near by practically keeps you up that night. You kind of feel like a psychopath having these kind of thoughts but it really makes you wonder, if he lives close by how come I’ve never seen him around before?”

Tossing and turning in your bed you find it difficult to sleep. It’s not even late, it’s only 21:00 pm, but you’ve found out that the more you sleep the better. Cause sleep is like death without actually dying and that’s great. You get some piece and quite.

Your little hiss is interrupted by your phone vibrating next to you. You check the caller but you don’t seem to know the number. “Hello?”. The voice on the other line making you freeze. “Kid? Is that you?” your breath hitched at his smooth but deep voice. “Y/n?”.

[deke-rivers-1957]

Kung Fu Elvis Part 1

So going back to @skinnypantsmcgee posting a piece where different Elvis' fighting each other made me think of something. What if we rank all of Elvis' characters based on their fighting ability?

Basically what I'm gonna do is after I watch 4 films, I'm gonna rank each of Elvis' characters based on their ability to win a no weapons hand to hand combat style fight. I know Elvis did 31 films but I do not count his 2 documentaries as films so I'm only judging his 29 films. That's 7 parts with the last one having 5 films.

Ok so here we go, after I recap each of the characters including their age in the order I watch the film I'll rank them at the end. Age is important because a young 20 something fighting is different than a 30 something fighting. In some cases Elvis' character is specifically given an age in the film, but otherwise his character will be treated as if he was the same age as Elvis when he did the film.

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Ok so first review of course was the first film, Love Me Tender. This film is set during the last couple days of the Civil War and the next couple months that follow. Elvis' character was Clint Reno, the youngest brother who didn't go to war. His only occupation is being a farmer who did most of the work while his brothers were away. Since this is the 1860s it's debatable as to how much nutrition he got and because the farm wasn't doing that well we can assume this is not a well off family.

Clint is implied to be a young adult or recently became an adult. It's hard to tell because based on the dialogue and circumstances in the film, he comes off as an 18 year old. Vance said he was practically a man, he wanted to be part of the war but he couldn't go and just in general he comes off as a young man trying to prove to his brothers he's not a kid anymore. However, the tombstone saying he was 22 years old is evidence that suggests that he's older. The problem with using that to determine age is that it contradicts a line stating how much time has passed since the brothers robbed the train by having him die before they were supposed to have been arrested. Ultimately, I'll just say he's between 18 and 22 since Elvis himself can pass for someone younger than 21 his actual age at the time.

GI Blues has Tulsa McClean who's an American soldier deployed in Germany. Since this is meant to be based on Elvis' actual time in the Army this film takes place in "modern day". So let's break down Tulsa's rank. He's in the US Army and has the rank of an SP5 (Specialist 5). This rank doesn't exist anymore, however, the general rank of a Specialist does. It's an enlisted rank meaning Tulsa is not an officer, nor did he serve longer than two years as according to US conscription laws, draftees in this time period only served for two years.

Being a soldier he should be properly nourished and in good shape just to even serve. He works with tanks hence his rank as a specialist as opposed to being a regular combat soldier so that would imply he had different types of training. He's from Oklahoma and is part of a Native American family. Tulsa doesn't have a given age and we can't really determine his age since there's a big age range for eligible draftees. Therefore, I'm saying like Elvis, Tulsa was between 23-25 years old.

Deke Rivers, this blog's name sake has no given age. However based on context clues within the film such as him being old enough to deliver beer and Elvis' age at the time of filming I think it's fair to say that Deke is 22 years old. His real name is Jimmy Tompkins and lives in Texas. He's stated to be an orphan and basically had to strike out on his own after running away when the orphanage burned down.

It's unknown what he did before the film starts, but we know he dreamed of being a farmer and that he was a delivery driver for a brewery before officially becoming a singer. It's safe to say that while he probably didn't starve, he can be described as the young, scrappy, and hungry type. Hard to tell just how much he was able to eat on a regular basis, but it was probably just enough.

Finally for this part we have Rusty Wells from Girl Happy. No age is given so based on Elvis' age at time of filming for this discussion, he's 29 years old. He's a nightclub singer based in Chicago but does stints in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida during spring break. He doesn't do any heavy lifting or really anything to determine just how strong he is.

Rusty has a steady job and has enough money to get all these outfits for his performances. He should be able to have a proper diet and be fully nourished. He can dance too during his shows so he would have to at least have enough protein to help repair his muscles.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even though Clint is real young (18-22) and strong from being a farmer, he's not a good fighter at all. He has no experience fighting and the little fighting we do see him do, he only has the advantage because he has a gun which is disqualifying in this argument. He got rough with Kathy, but he offered no little to no resistance against his older brothers when they restrained him. Clint dying at the end doesn't matter because he got shot and this is a no weapons battle.

I can only judge this based on what we see. Even though he did little fighting, for the sake of this argument he didn't impress me with what I did see. I'd put him in either D or F tier. He's not strong enough to fight anyone, and comes off as a coward for only going after Kathy and not Vance. Also him using a gun for leverage does not give me confidence he even can fight.

I'm going to create some controversy but despite Tulsa McClean being an actual soldier, he's going to be in D tier. He's not a combat soldier and only works with tanks. Even if he's skilled he's not an experienced soldier based on my rank breakdown above. We only see one fight scene and even then he doesn't outright win. He and his group runs away when the police were on the way. We can't assume how much training he would've received regarding hand to hand combat but we can say with certainty that his skills operating armored vehicles would be useless in this battle.

However, I would say he would stand a better chance than Clint Reno so Tulsa would be ranked higher than him. So ultimately he's between high D or low C. We just don't know enough about his background or training level and we can't speculate on things we didn't see in the film.

Deke might be surprisingly high. I'd put him in B tier. He only had one fight scene but he actually won and it was against someone bigger than him. In a fight there are many factors that determine who wins and size is one of them as well as how you use it. The fight in terms of pure skill was not professional at all so I can't put Deke in A or S tier. Another thing that we can assume based on his background is that Deke being a delivery driver for a brewery would give him considerable strength. The average size of a beer keg weighs 160 lbs. Even though he wasn't working there that long nor do we actually see him lift that type of keg, we can actually assume here that he still would have to be considerably strong to lift those kegs on a regular basis. Assuming Deke is fighting someone close to his size if not slightly bigger, he stands a pretty decent chance of winning despite not having any formal training.

Rusty's in D tier. He lost a fight against drunken college kids. They literally hit him with a glass bottle, picked him up and threw him into a large decoration. He doesn't even get out of it until well after everyone left or got arrested. On paper, assuming he's in shape, he should have the advantage. He's perfectly sober and is still on the right side of 30. He should in theory be able to get away or actually win this fight but he doesn't.

You can make the argument that since he was outnumbered this isn't a fair fight, but we don't see any other fight scenes to determine how well he would've done. We can't determine what his fighting experience is because it's not mentioned in the film nor can we judge based on his career as a singer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ultimately tier list for this part:

Deke Rivers in B tier

Tulsa McClean I'll give the benefit of the doubt and put him in low C tier

Rusty Wells goes in D tier

Finally Clinton Reno I'll also give him the benefit of the doubt and put him in D tier but his still below Rusty.

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If anyone wants to weigh in on this feel free I'd love to hear what you think.

[honestlyfragile]

JUMPSTREET - Mark Lee x Johnny Suh

Pairing: Mark Lee x Fem!Reader, Johnny is Mark’s bestfriend, Mentions of Jaehyun and Yuta

Genre: university!au, police!au, a dash of fluff, smut,crack, fraternity!au

warnings: mild violence, mentions of guns, drugs, sexual themes, language

Summary: Mark and Johnny were partners in crime, but when feelings get in the way, will Mark stick to the law or go against it?

Wc: 15.4k

also posted in Ao3

a/n: I hope you enjoy this story heavily inspired by the 21 & 22 Jumpstreet movie franchise, and hopefully I was able to deliver it with my own ideas. Enjoy!

Mark and Johnny start their first official day as policemen after being together in most of their high school years and studying criminology in college. They could not be more excited to see people make trouble until today.

"Let's see who's going to be able to make his first arrest." Johnny bets, scanning around the area with a cup of coffee in his hand, the other on his waist.

"Dude it's a park, what the fuck could possibly happen here?" Mark retorts, unamused.

"Oh you know, it's a crazy world we live in these days." Johnny defends, his gaze fixed on his surroundings.

"Sure it is." Mark continues to read his newspaper as he stands side by side with Johnny.

The two try to at least roam around and patrol over the area, looking for at least an ounce of any violation, it didn't matter if it was serious or not.

Mark spots a kid of about 9 years old near the pond, about to drop a piece of bread into the water.

"Excuse me kid," Mark bluffs, as if it were his first catch of the day. Technically this is his first catch of his career, hopefully.

"What?" the child frowns and looks at him obnoxiously.

"Read the sign," Mark points to it and the kid's eyes follow, but disobeys him anyway. 

"It says don't feed the ducks!" Mark argues, but the kid is unbothered.

"Let it go Mark, it's not like bread will kill them. Plus, you can't arrest a child." Johnny scoffs and tries to drag Mark to another area.

Mark lets out a sigh as the kid sticks his tongue out and he does the same before turning his back.

The two had nothing better to do, they were rookies who just got newly assigned to an area that didn't even have any trouble. Almost like they were just there for the sake of. Of course the department treated them as rookies.

Johnny takes out his pistol out of boredom and tosses it for fun. "Woah you know those are loaded right?" Mark warns him while involuntarily taking a step back.

"Yeah and?" Johnny continues to toss and play with it.

"Unload it first!" Mark panics like the goody two shoes that he was.

"Then that would be no fun." Johnny shrugs.

Mark spots a group of middle aged men from afar, but not quite. He squints and tries to take a closer look with his binoculars.

"Yo check it out, aren't those the Outlaws?" He nudges Johnny's shoulder as he takes a look himself.

The Outlaws are a known motorcycle gang in the county, they aren't always bothersome but the both of them are determined to find a loophole.

The two approach the group of men and tell them off because they have parked their motorcycles illegally. But that's not the only thing they notice, these men were stoned. One lights up a joint of Marijuana shamelessly, and Johnny loses his temper. "Excuse me Sir, you do know that the use of Marijuana is illegal right?"

"Oh look," the hideous man spits on the ground. "They must be new. He has the guts to talk to us like that. Nice to see some fresh kids here. You sure you aren't dressing up for... halloween?" The man specifically has his eyes on Mark when he said the last sentence.

Feeling offended, Mark straightens up his stance and acts more like a grown man. "That's a nice joke sir, now hand it over." He says in a stern voice.

"What a scary fella, keep up the good work! Sorry I don't have candy with me." They tease and the two have had enough.

"I'm going to have to search your motorcycle now sir." Johnny insists and doesn't wait for a response, and opens the seat and finds packets of a fine white substance. "These are.." he halts.

"DRUGS!" Mark shouts and immediately gets pushed by one of the gang members.

Johnny immediately gets a sample and keeps it in his pocket and takes his gun out. Mark gets up and does the same. The men try to run away and escape, Johnny runs after them and Mark takes his bike. The two finally get to corner them and Johnny pits one of them on the ground.

"You have the right to," Johnny tries to utter the Miranda Rights as he puts handcuffs on the man that is trying to eagerly resist him. "To shut the fuck up!" Johnny was being too focused on trying to handcuff the suspect and forgets to recite the rest,

Reciting those did not even cross Mark's mind as he just also focused on trying to handcuff the man.

"You are coming with us!" He yells and drags them to the police station, which was only a few meters away from them now.

--------

As the case was investigated, their chief commends them but then discovers that they forgot to recite the Miranda Rights, which can possibly make the charges be dropped, but thankfully the violation to the law was enough for the men to remain in jail.

"Technically you still did this wrong," the chief puts a hand on his chin and taps the polished wooden table. "But since you're just starting out, i'll give you another offer."

The two young men eye each other, anticipating the chief's suggestion. "An offer?" Johnny asks, straightening up in his seat.

"Jump street." The chief says.

"Wha- what's that?" Mark furrows his eyebrows in curiosity.

"Since the both of you look younger than the rest of the people here, our undercover police unit is in need of officers." The chief informs.

"Please, continue." Johnny lets him explain further.

"You pretend to be college students. It's practically the same, but it would be more suitable for the both of you because it's your crowd. You see crime and injustice, you report. But, you will be disguised as college students to ease the procedures of trying to find what those students have been up to. We have your back." The chief explains.

"Cool." Mark simply says because he is astonished by the idea.

"So where do we report? Do we have a new head quarters?" Johnny asks. 

"You will be transferred. Down in 21 Jump St." The deputy Chief declares.

____

They head to the headquarters that was disguised as an old chapel. "You sure this is the one?" Mark questions as he gets out of the car.

"It does say 21 Jump St. so, let's have a look." Johnny turns off the engine and both of them enter.

The setting was a typical chapel, but it was dark and full of stock equipment. Mark takes a look at the altar that was dimly lit, and bows before the image of Christ to show respect . Johnny on the other hand was not a person of religion but follows Mark's simple gesture anyways.

"The both of you!" A man shouts from afar, and it echoes, "come over here." 

The two are startled but proceed to the hidden room. When they enter they see two women who are already disguised as cheerleaders. Meanwhile the two are still in their police uniforms. The ladies take a look and have a good laugh at them. "You do know that you're supposed to go undercover right?" She says, eyeing them from head to toe. 

"W-we didn't get the memo that it was gonna be today.." Mark trails off and fidgets with his hands.

"Go and dress like teenagers! Now!" The chief commands and the two quickly change right away. 

When they get back they are briefed by the set of rules they have to follow and about the goals of this undercover project.

"Rule number 1. DO NOT get expelled. No one in the system knows that you are undercover. So be disciplined and don't cause major trouble. Getting expelled would mean that you'll get your asses kicked out of jump street." The chief sternly explains, making the assigned officers hold their breath from fear.

"Rule number 2," the officer walks past the rest and stands in front of Johnny. "DO NOT have any sexual or intimate relationships with the students and professors. You hear that pretty boy?" And specifically locks his eyes on Johnny, making the boy gulp and purse his lips. After the general meeting, the two were called for a detailed one, personally with the chief.

It was said to them that they had to find a synthetic drug that has been spreading around the campus called NCT. A sample of its packaging was shown, it was definitely something you wouldn't think of as a drug. It was about a size of a large coin, and looks like a small biscuit. It was sealed using assorted hand drawn stickers of different objects. They were also advised to never give out their real names, because new identities have been assigned to them. Johnny's being Rolan Kim and Mark's being Kalen Park.

"When the youngsters take this drug, it apparently makes them laser-focused on studying for about an hour. And for the succeeding hours, they party like it's fucking 1999 until they pass out. Infiltrate the dealer, find the supplier." The chief gives his final orders and sends off the both of them for their mission.

-----

"Dang, we're really going back to college?" Mark says as he finished up packing his things for the dorm that the agency assigned to them. They had to be as realistic as possible.

The two head to the university, reminiscing their own college days. The two might perhaps over-do this whole "blending in" thing, which might give out the disguise.

"Woah their campus is HUGE." Mark says, mesmerized and wears both straps of his backpack.

"Bro, that's not very college of you." Johnny fumbles with the strap of Mark's backpack.

"What?"

"You're two strapping dude. You have to just sling one of them on your shoulder, so it's cool and grown up. You're in college, not middle school." Johnny fixes Mark's bag for him.

"Right. College." He utters to himself. He seems to be enjoying it too much, and starts saying hi to everyone he sees.

"Knock it off, Mark. You're giving us away." Johnny nudges his arm and tries to cooly stride along the campus, keeping his composure.

Mark acknowledges him and goes with the flow. The two arrive in their dorm that they gladly share only among themselves. Mark is new to this, because when he went to college he stayed with his parents. Thankfully he could trust Johnny to always have his back.

The two set their things down and pick their beds, it didn't really matter much since the room had two singles and separate desks for the both of them. It also had a small book shelf that could come in handy, if they ever plan to take lectures seriously.

"Let's just fix these later. We have to go to the Dean's office to confirm our enrollment. Act natural okay?" Johnny lazily brushes his hair back and straightens up his shirt in front of the small mirror that the vanity had.

"Oh- uh okay." Mark leaves the pile of his clothes undone on top of his bed and grabs his phone and keys.

It was the afternoon of fall, the campus has been covered with different hues of orange leaves and subtle sunlight. The breeze was cool but not strong as it blew against their hair. The university seemed peaceful, but they had no idea what went on once the sun sets and the lights are off.

After a couple minutes of walking, the two arrive at the Dean's office for their interview. 

"Good afternoon gentlemen, please take a seat." The middle aged man smiles at the both of them. 

The two are slightly nervous, but eventually get over it. "Nice to meet you, Mr..." Johnny reads the name plate on the desk "Mr. Bennet." and gives the man his signature smile. Mark does the same and they start their interview. 

"Okay, so which one is Rolan and which one is Kalen?" Mr. Bennet asks and there was a short period of silence. Two had seemed to forget which identities were theirs. 

Johnny raises his hand, "I'm Rolan sir. Rolan Kim." and he nudges Mark's shoulder. 

"Ah yes and I'm Kalen... Park" he barely manages to blurt it out. 

The dean furrows his eyebrows but lets it go and proceeds. "So the two of you are?" He asks. They were not prepared for that question. 

"Brothers."

"Family friends." the two say at the same time. They give each other a funny look, and Mark gladly saves them from the mishap. "Well we do really treat each other as brothers sir, we grew up together pretty much." and clears his throat. A close call. 

"That's good to hear. So Rolan is going to be trying out for the football team and Kalen will try out for the Music club. Those two are very different from each other, but don't worry the opportunities in this school are endless. You can always transfer if you feel that you aren't happy with what you chose." The dean explains and the two acknowledge. 

Mr. Bennet goes a little further with the interview and gives them their schedules for the semester then eventually dismisses the two, wishing them well.

"Dude how can you forget the identity that was assigned to you!" Johnny quietly scolds Mark for his slip away. 

"I'm sorry okay it's a little confusing!" Mark scratches the back of his head and looks at the floor. 

"Ayt, I'll see you later. I have Chemistry in 15 minutes. I can still catch up. What about you?" Johnny asks, putting his hand on his pockets and the other on Mark's shoulder.

"Well, I don't really have any classes for the day anymore. I guess i'll head back to the dorm so I can start unpacking already. I'll see you then. Let me know if you find any leads." Mark gives him a small salute and heads back to the dorms.

-----

Johnny arrives in the lecture hall and receives strange looks. He tenses up a little but nonetheless shrugs it off and takes a seat next to a boy who looks like a whole generation younger than him. 

"Yo, you look really old. Were you held back?" The boy asks in a nosy manner, unintentionally pushing Johnny's buttons.

Johnny clenches his jaw and keeps his composure. "No I don't... You look young. Super young. Were you held forward?" he tries to redeem himself. 

"No? Whatever. I'm Haechan by the way." The boy introduces himself. 

"Im Joh- Rolan." Johnny almost slips but the latter doesn't notice. 

The professor immediately hands a quiz, which Johnny has no idea of because he arrived at an odd time of the semester. He guessed all the questions with all his might. But to be quite honest he also wasn't the best in chemistry when he still went to school. 

He turns his paper in and walks towards the exit but gets stopped by Haechan. "Uh do you need help with the topic? You seem to be clueless about it." Which came off as a little rude, but that wasn't his intention at all. 

"No." Johnny insists because it hurts his pride. "I know everything." He stiffens up.

"Yeah? Do you know what a covalent bond is then?" The boy cheekily asks. 

Johnny bluffs, because he doesn't. Or to put it in a better light, he forgot. "Fuck man, I don't have to tell you what it is."

"Woah, I wasn't trying to be rude. But anyway if you need help you can just ask me. See ya." Then Haechan was off and got lost in the sea of people. 

Apparently, it was Johnny's last class for the day because it was already almost evening. He texts Mark to inform him that he's heading back to the dorm as well. He doesn't let his guard down and continues to observe the students if they're up to anything suspicious.

As he walked to the dorm, he saw a bunch of boys that were about as tall as he was but more athletic gather around the corner of the football field. He acts nonchalant but keeps an eye on what they are up to. He tries to move closer to the scene without getting caught and acts like he's only passing by. 

"Yo hook me up with some more of those, I can't fail my classes or else i'll get kicked out of the team." One says to the other. 

Johnny immediately pulls his phone out to text Mark about what he just heard and hurries back. 

-------

"Dude, as expected the football team has it. I'm trying out tomorrow and I'll surely get with them." Johnny discusses with Mark.

"Yeah? Can I come watch your tryouts? So I can see what they look like." Mark requests. 

"Sure. 2pm at the field." Johnny informs him.

The two were mostly busy arranging their stuff in the room until they heard a knock on the door. Mark offers to get it. 

"Hey new neighbors!" two men appear with big smiles. 

"Oh hey, uh... thanks?" Mark blankly answers as he was usually awkward meeting with new people.

Johnny comes and checks to see who it was, and to his surprise, it was Haechan and his roommate. 

"Oh hey Haechan, and hey..." Johnny looks at the unfamiliar guy. 

"Renjun." He smiles.

"Right Renjun." Johnny nods. "Oh by the way Kalen, I go to the same biology class as Haechan." Johnny calls Mark by his fake name.

"Oh cool, what about you Renjun, what's your major?" Mark asks. 

"Classical music!" Renjun enthusiastically says. 

"Oh I'm in Music Prod! I'll probably see you around during org meetings." Mark smiles.

Their neighbors introduce tips for them that could be useful during their stay and seem to be genuinely nice people. But Mark and Johnny cannot trust anyone, so they keep their guards up and try their best to not give anything away. 

Although it may have seemed like an easy task for them, it wasn't. The drug was all over the school, it was going to be difficult to find the root of it if they ignored even the smallest details that could lead them to find out the supplier. 

---

The following day, the two wake up early ready to officially start the day. Mark and Johnny head to their own classes, hoping that they find out something about the case today. 

Mark enters the lecture hall for his Philosophy class. It was almost 80 percent full as it was a basic class for almost everyone. He awkwardly looks around, hoping to find a seat that wasn't as far because of his bad eyesight. 

"Psst." You try to catch his attention. When he looks over, you tap the vacant seat next to you, "you can sit here." You offer. 

"T-thanks." He says and gives you a smile. 

"You seem like a new face. I'm Y/N" You say to him because you have observed the people in this class every day. 

"I'm Kalen. Kalen Park." he scratches the back of his head. "I uh, just got enrolled yesterday. You know, when your family moves into another town... yeah" he trails off with his made-up excuse. 

"Yeah, it's fine. Don't worry about it." You genuinely assure him, "It's college. You can take your time." You chuckle because he was so awkward, but seemed very kind. 

"Definitely." He bites his lip, unsure if he should keep talking or not. But the professor arrives just on time. 

He observes his surroundings and keeps an eye on suspicious students that might have a link to what they were looking for. He whispers to the guy in front of him who was just playing games on his laptop and wasn't listening in class. "Hey, do you know where I can get myself some NCT?" 

The guy raises his brows in doubt, "are you a narc?" and might have said it way too loudly. 

Mark tries to brush it off with a stiff laugh "What are you talking about man? I'm not I swear." and refuses to make eye contact. 

The airhead lets it go and slips mark a cellphone number that could possibly be a step closer to what they were looking for. "Just text them "looking for a hookup" and they'll know what you're talking about." 

"Thanks, man." He gives him a small pat on the back just to show that he wasn't up to anything, which actually just makes him more suspicious. Thankfully, the guy didn't really care. 

Mark was delighted to have found a lead easily, and immediately texts Johnny about it. After that, he actually paid attention to the class, just because it genuinely fascinated him. 

When it ended he immediately gathered his stuff and put on his backpack, ready to meet Johnny. 

"Psst, two strapper!" You call out and try to barely tap his shoulder. 

He looks back and immediately drops one strap of his backpack off his shoulders, he definitely forgot about what Johnny has advised him. He scratches the back of his head with his hands on his pocket, "yeah?" 

"You free this evening?" You casually ask. 

He nervously gulps because he really has to be somewhere right now, but he didn't want to be rude. "Uhm, I guess? I don't know yet. Why?" 

"We're having a poetry slam at the art hall, you might be interested. I saw some good stuff you wrote in your notebook" you smile, hoping that it doesn't freak him out that you saw one of his works. 

His eyes widened, "oh, okay cool I guess I can try. But I have somewhere to be right now, I'll see you..around." And he awkwardly walks off. 

You furrow your brows because of his strange mannerisms, but he seemed like no trouble at all. In fact, it was kind of cute, how awkward he was. 

------ 

It was time for Johnny's football tryouts. Given that he was already good at it during the time that he was actually in college.

Johnny was naturally a sociable person, he blended well with crowds and easily made friends. That's why this was the perfect place for him to be in. He sits himself at the bench while he wears the spare uniforms from the team and is greeted by a dude that was a little shorter than he was, "Goodluck" the boy with ash purple hair says. 

"Thanks!" he enthusiastically replies. 

"Captain! We need you for a sec." the coach calls, then the boy who has wished him luck gets up and reports to the coach. Well, he did give off an impression of one. He was highly presentable, his smile was hospitable, his form was great and his attitude was pleasant. Everything else—was just the ideal makings of a captain. 

The tryouts start and Johnny looks around for Mark, who had just arrived and casually sat himself on the bleachers, waving at Johnny from afar. As the tryouts went on and finished, the coach praised everyone who attended for a job well done and announced the new members who had qualified. All of which included Johnny of course. 

"Hey man, great job out there." The captain is back on Johnny's side to praise him. 

"Yeah, thanks. I'm Rolan by the way." He introduces himself.

"Of course I know, I was the one who picked you from the list." He laughs, "Jaehyun. Jeong Jaehyun." 

-----

"Hey!" Mark hears a familiar voice faintly calling his name. He searches for it but takes him awhile because of how wide the campus is. "Over here two stapper," you chuckle and he finally sees. 

"Oh hey," he muttered quite embarrassed at how awkward he was. 

He takes a seat next to you at the bench near the hall of the poetry slam event, he wanted to go together. "Chilly night huh? I should've brought my sweater.." You trail off, rubbing your arms for warmth. 

You didn't mean for it to come off that way, but Mark willingly takes off his jacket and offers it to you. "Oh it's alright really-" you insist.

"No it's fine, I'm from Canada, this is nothing." He laughs. 

You nod your head with his remark, and proceed to wear his jacket. It was quite big on you, but it was definitely cozy. "Shall we go?" You ask, standing up.

He nods and lets you lead him to the hall. The campus was only lit by lamp posts at this hour, but there were many sculptures in the school of arts that he had wished to see better. Well, there was always next time. 

The both of you enter the hall which was quite filled with students already. It had been set up like a cafe, with a small platform in front that was lit with a spotlight. 

"Give it up for Naya Kim everybody!" the emcee announces, encouraging everyone to give the person a round of applause after presenting a spoken word. "Do we have another volunteer?' 

The crowd falls silent as everyone looks around, mindlessly making eye contact with each other, waiting on who was going next. 

"Anyone?" The emcee taps the mic. 

"I have one!" You yell, and Mark looks at you with wide eyes. 

"Dude no-" he resists, trying to shrink himself into his chair. 

"C'mon it'll be fun!" You nudge his shoulder, "We have Kalen over here!" You grab his wrist and raise his arm for him, even if he was resisting it, he had no choice. 

The emcee squints and eyes the both of you and acknowledges you volunteering your new friend. "Alright we have Kalen next! Stage is yours." The emcee steps off. 

He had all eyes on him now, eyes hungry of anticipation and to witness raw talent amongst themselves. 

"G-good evening everyone." he greets, holding onto the mic tightly and takes a deep breath. His expression changes into a serious one. 

Will it ever come? 

The nights know me well. 

I was a frequent by-passer but now I am no stranger. 

A boy who grew up with sharks does not need to be taught how to swim.

Good night,

These words feel like the vast sky

Darkness, but not hollow.

Black but not bitter. 

After he recites his poem he becomes flustered again from the faint applause he had received from the audience that was present, he puts the mic back to its stand and does a small bow. 

"Not bad, tiger" You pat him on the back. There was more to him than what meets the eye, you just knew. 

"You think so?" He says with hopeful eyes. 

"Yeah!" You assure him. 

The rest of the evening passes by with the both of you having a splendid time watching others unleash their passion and talent for reciting spoken word and poetry. Some were tear jerking and some were downright hilarious. So this is college. Mark thinks to himself.

In the past he had always been a loner who didn't go to many parties because of his strict and conservative parents. 

 He was way beyond his borders now. But he couldn't get carried away. No, this isn't a time for him to redeem himself from his early years, this was time for him to perform his duties. So he snaps out of his little daydream. 

As the both of you were seated at the bench in front of the hall where he found you, he had asked you about your major. 

"Fine arts." you laugh bitterly.

"What's wrong? You don't seem like you're happy with it…" He trails off, swinging his feet that was hanging off the bench. 

You shake your head no, "I am. It's just that my parents don't really know I took this course. I told them I got a scholarship and they were just relieved that they didn't have to pay anymore. Otherwise they'd force me into some business course or something "more practical"" you emphasize with air quotes. 

"I see. Okay so fine arts huh?" He tries to lighten the mood. "What can you say about that one over there?" Mark points to the sculpture to your left, about 20 metres away. 

"They're like two beings, leaning on each other" you pause, dramatically for impact, "They support each other so one doesn't fall." you interpret. 

He seems impressed, then asks "Support huh? How about you? Do you have anyone—who supports you?" 

"Hm, not really, no. I like to be alone and just spend time with myself." Your eyes wander but all you could think about is how he's looking at you with such attentiveness and interest.

He chuckles, "I feel you. You know I'm an expert at being alone. Don't you just love it when you're in a room full of people but no one gives a shit about your presence?" He claps his hands together just once then purses his lips into a bitter lopsided smile. "Yep. Had a lot of those." He masks his personal statement with humor.

"Well," You say, kicking the shortly-trimmed grass on the building's lawn. "If you don't wanna be alone, you walk me to my dorm" you offer.

He looks around and takes no time to think about it, feeling that it was unsafe for you to go alone. "Sure." He smiles.

The walk to your dorm was silent but comfortable. You weren't sure if he was quite a talker or just shy. But one thing you couldn't get out of your head was how unconventionally attractive he was. You've never gotten a vibe like his before and you've been in this university for 2 years already. You wanted to get something out of him even if it takes you to be the bold one here. 

"We're here," You whisper, looking at him seductively. Like you were a puppy begging to not be left alone. "Do you wanna come in? My roommate left for the weekend" you smirk. 

Mark gulps. He had been resisting this kind of tension he had with you ever since he met you. But you made it so hard. "Come on," you say, putting your hand at the back of his neck while tracing mindless patterns on it with your finger. 

"My brother he might be-" 

"Oh you have a brother? Is he hot?" You joke. 

His eyes are wide with stitched eyebrows. But eventually catches on. "Nah." and he pulls you closer to him by the waist. His eyes now staring at you deeply, so hungrily like he was that tiger you called him as earlier. Come and get it.

Without any words said, he had finally crashed his lips onto yours. And you kissed him hard. Like you wanted to have him to all yourself at that very moment. Your tongue grazes his lower lip, begging for entrance which he had granted. Your tongues meshed together at a quick pace, with the heat of your core starting to throb. 

You push yourself closer to him and you start to feel his prominence and unconsciously grind on his jeans, making him grunt. You break the kiss for a quick moment, his eyes are glazed and his mouth agape, out of breath. You turn around and enter the code to your dorm and pull him inside. 

For a brief moment that your bodies were detached, Mark couldn't stop wanting more. Not even thinking the slightest of the consequences of this act that will dawn upon him if it ever gets out. 

You were back to slamming your body with his as you took off his jacket, making it fall to the floor. His hands snake underneath your shirt and started roaming around your body while he peppered kisses on your neck. With a swift flick of his fingers he had unclasped your bra and his hands groped your breasts, you threw your head back as he buried his face in your clothed cleavage. Like he was begging for this bothersome piece of clothing to be gone. 

You grant his invisible wish and quickly lift your shirt off, while your bra falls off your arms naturally, his mouth watering at the sight. You trace his abs underneath his shirt, your core getting wetter with how toned they were based on your touch.

And you didn’t doubt the results one bit. When you lift his shirt, his torso was delicately lean, toned in all the right places that your mouth could water at the sight of it. You bite your lip and roll your eyes at the sensation of him sucking your tits, his grip on you intense but gentle. 

“I don’t have condoms right now, so this is going to be all about you.” He whispers seductively, feeling your wetness through your soaked panties. You softly moan at the sensation and hungrily kiss him again, not having any moment to waste. 

When he slides two fingers to massage your folds, you whimper. "Fuck," you breathe. 

"God, that's hot." He says with a hitched breath. You couldn't possibly get any more turned on right now. 

When he slips his digits in your cunt—you go fucking insane. You haven't felt this good in quite a while, it made you ecstatic to remember how fucking good this feeling was, you hoped that this wouldn't be the last. Mark was different.

He picks up his pace, and you try to keep your composure, but the forced arch of your back says otherwise. You grab a pillow to cover your face, scared that you would be too loud and get caught, or else this would be the last time for the both of you. 

“My fucking God.” You whimper, pulling Mark’s head on your chest, holding onto him for dear life because you just entirely lost control of it all. He finishes you off like his life depended on it, licking your wetness from his fingers, savouring it, then wipes his fingers on his jeans.

“You were so good to me, yeah?” He chuckles when you are left speechless.

“What about you?” You ask, looking at his crotch that was painfully hard. 

“It’s- It’s alright. You don’t have to” He says, and it makes your heart thaw like ice. You didn’t deserve him. 

“But I want to.” You plead, you couldn’t possibly resist him. “Come here,” You say, rubbing your palm against his jeans.

You didn’t waste anymore time and unzipped his pants, lowering it with his boxers just enough t make his cock lightly hit his stomach. His size is definitely more than what you expected.  You take his wet, glistening cock in your hands and pump it gently, smirking in satisfaction when you hear him hiss and moan softly. 

“Can you keep it down for me, tiger? We might not be able to do this again,” You coo, and he obediently nods, grazing your lower lip with his tongue, asking for entrance which you gladly grant but not for long. 

You smile as you lowered your head down to his throbbing member, licking the precum that had escaped the tip. Mark bites his lip, trying to keep as quiet as possible. You slowly put his dick in your mouth, testing a few times how far you could go. He bucks his hips by accident, making you gag very slightly. “I’m so sorry,” He strokes your hair away from your face. You keep going until you reach the brim, a throaty moan escapes his lips when he couldn’t take it anymore. 

You bob your head up and down in a consistent pace while he holds your hair, “You’re such a good girl” He says, throwing his head back. You keep going until you feel tears slowly coming out of your eyes and tried to hollow your cheeks as much as possible, he was so close. 

“You don’t have to swallow,” he says, pulling back from you. Nonsense. You were more than willing to. 

“I want to.” You say, putting his cock back in your mouth. 

With a few last pumps, his member twitches in your mouth and you feel his warm release and take it all in. You wipe the sides of your mouth as you finish, giving him a sweet smile. 

After the both of you pass out on your bed, Mark has lost track of time and receives a text from Johnny. 

"Dude where the fuck are you? Do you know what time it is?" 

Mark jolts up and checks the time, 2:45am. Shit, he was screwed. He quickly gathers his clothes that had been thrown around your room and dresses himself in panic. 

"I'm sorry, uh Joh- Rolan, my brother has been waiting for me at our dorm, I lost track of time and i think he'll beat my dick off," He nervously chuckles, almost forgetting to use his fake identity again. He has got to get used to it.

"Not if i did it first" You both burst out laughing. "Alright, I'll see you in class." You say, snuggling yourself in your blanket and shutting your eyes. 

He leaves your dorm quietly and runs a hand through his hair before giving Johnny a call. 

"Dude listen-"

"Are you fucking around Mark?" Johnny answers, clearly enraged. 

Mark was scared as shit but never misses the chance to fuck around Johnny. "I might've." 

"Get your ass back here, Lee" 

"Ayt." 

He slips his phone back to his pocket and starts walking briskly to their dorm. Damn this campus was mad creepy that it actually brought chills to his body. He wondered why he felt so cold then realized he left his jacket at your place. It was too late for him to get it back so he settled by running to warm his body up. 

Finally, he was back at the dorm. He hesitates to turn the doorknob because he knows he will be dead meat or nagged to death by Johnny. Or not. 

"Where you been huh?" Johnny examines him, standing up from his bed. He sniffs Mark and the latter flinches. "You smell like sex!" He slaps his shoulder. 

"You crazy? Some expert or something" Mark brushes him off. Wincing at the sting Johnny's palm gave to the skin of his shoulder.

"I should know, Mark." His mood was lighter now. "But who did you fu- i mean have sex with? we just got here wildcat"

"A girl I met in class like uh… awhile ago" The younger bites his lip trying to keep a smile from escaping his lips. He shouldn't be feeling this giddy over a rule that he broke for you. 

Johnny could not believe what he was hearing right now, "Dang. Cheeky boy." He laughs, actually feeling happy for Mark. He can have a little fun, Johnny had his back when it came to these things.

The elder changes the topic and lets this slide. Johnny talks about the leads he gathered from hanging out with the football team. Which were still very much confusing since this substance is all over the campus. Meanwhile, Mark didn't have much besides that number he gave Johnny. Considering he was with the "decent" crowd of people today.

---

The two head to their quarters to report to their chief the next day, trying to ask for help on how they could improve this investigation. 

The chief dumps a folder on the table and says, "This is what the deputy gave us recently. Take a look." He opens the folder into a specific case file to discuss with the two. 

"Who's this?" Mark points at the picture of a girl, who seemed like they were around the same age as the people at University. 

"Lee Minjung." the chief rubs his hands together. "Took some NCT and got locked out of her dorm, so she ended up falling off the roof and dying." The two are shocked by this revelation, it was more serious than they thought. 

The chief flips a page, "Here's a picture of her buying the drug." The photograph had two people in it, one that had a visible face which was Minjung, and one guy who's back was facing the camera. He wore a hat so they couldn't really tell who it was. But one thing they could point out is the reflection on the window of the car beside them.

"Dude, look at this," Mark points out his observation to Johnny. "He has a tattoo, we could start with this." 

"Bingo. There's your lead." The chief closes the folder and puts it back in his file. "The next time you get back here your asses better be presenting me some actual progress. Understand?" 

"Yes sir." 

----

Johnny and Mark head to the resident tattoo artist that was near the university, apparently they do most of the tattoos of the students there. 

"Excuse me," They knocked on the table of the artist who was currently at the back of the shop.

The tattoo artist arrives out front and asks how they could help the two. 

"We're looking for this tattoo, is it familiar to you?" Johnny asks while showing the artists the photograph.

The artist tries to think hard, but gives a hasty answer. "I'm not sure, there's too many of them who got that." 

Mark pushes the subject, "Them? Do you think it's some kind of group tattoo?" 

"I guess so. They were boys, all of them. Very masculine, had the body of an athlete if I were to put it at that." The artist states. 

Mark and Johnny look at each other as if there were light bulbs above their heads. "Thank you!" Mark says and they run off the shop. 

The possibility of this being in the football team was huge. They were athletes, and under a lot of pressure. They had reasons to use this drug but it wasn't an excuse for them not to eliminate this. They had to get to the bottom of this before it ends up like Minjung's case again. 

---

Johnny was at football practice while Mark stood by the bleachers, watching the team and trying to look out as usual until Johnny calls him over to come down for a bit. 

"Jaehyun, this is Kalen, my brother." He introduces him. With his assigned name. 

Jaehyun chortles in disbelief when he sees Mark. "You have a brother?" He asks and Johnny nods. 

"Sup," Mark tries to give him a bro hug, but Jaehyun shakes his hand instead. 

Jaehyun pays no mind to Mark's presence and diverts his attention back to Johnny and proceeds to talk about their game plan.

When practice ends he tells Johnny that the football team plans to host a party tonight. It would be the perfect opportunity for them to keep an eye on everyone. 

"Can I come?" Mark asks.

Jaehyun eyes him from the side, "Yeah uh sure" and only bids goodbye to Johnny. "See ya bro." 

Mark could already feel that he didn't belong in this crowd, but he and Johnny had to stick together and investigate. 

The night of the party came and the two brothers were stoked. "Our first frat party." Mark thought. 

"Your first frat party." Johnny spat playfully, trying to meticulously style and wax his hair. 

Mark scoffs, still trying to figure out what shirt to wear but at the end, he settles with a navy blue Ralph Lauren shirt. He was too lazy to fix his hair and wears a cap instead. 

Johnny tosses Mark something that he thinks the younger might need later on. 

"Are you for real? A condom?" A baffled Mark says in disbelief, but sliding it in his pocket anyway.

"You'll never know wildcat. You'll never know." He gives him a mischievous wink.

This wasn't just any party to them, this was an operation. Though they chose to leave for the party unarmed, they were thankfully trained well for hand to hand combat, just in case things went extremely wrong. But that was besides the point, they couldn't destroy their chances of blending in.

When the tandem arrives at the party, the elder was the only one to be greeted enthusiastically, Mark shakes it off simply because being friends with these jocks were the last thing on his list. It was Johnny's call if it didn't work for him, they had their roles. 

"Go around for a bit, I'll take care of him." Johnny whispers to Mark with a drink already in his hand.  

Mark shrugs his shoulders and explores the frat house, lit with red and blue, music blaring through speakers and the muffled conversations from the people that filled it. 

Nothing seemed too off the bat here, it was everything you would expect a frat party to be. There hasn't been a trace of NCT anywhere, or maybe it was because they were being taken too discreetly. 

"Want some?" a random guy nudges him, discreetly handing a packet of the substance. He takes it and plays it cool. 

"Yo, sick. Thanks man." He pats him on the back. 

“Yo it’s not free.” The guy laughs then it disappears. “20 bucks.”

Mark's smile fades, embarrassed. Thank god he brought his wallet. “Here. Thanks.”

"Don't sweat it." and he gives him a small salute.

Mark quickly slides it in his pocket, to keep as evidence later. 

"Bad boy." You snake your hands around his shoulders. "Want some?" You offer your red punch with vodka. 

His eyes widen, but eases under your touch. Finally, someone who's familiar. Overly familiar. "Hey, y/n" he shakes his head no. "I don't feel like drinking tonight" he makes up an excuse. 

"So are you…" 

"Am i?" 

"Are you going to take that?" You say, pointing at the pocket where he hid it.

Uncertain, he shakes his head no. "But should I? Have you ever had one of these?" 

"Oh god no." You say in disgust. "I have seen people's reactions to it though. It's borderline batshit crazy, those things." You explain. Hoping that he wouldn't ever try taking those. You knew about the whole Minjung incident. "One of the girls who lived next door died because of it." 

Your remark sparks an interest in him. "Minjung?" He questions. This could be a big help to their operation. But it wasn't a good time to interrogate you.

You raise your brows, "How'd you know her name?" 

He fakes a cough and tries to quickly think of a reason. "Mr- Mr. Benett told us. He said that recently a student passed away but never said it was because of the drug…" 

You crease up, "That old man is fucking clueless." You cross your arms. "But I'm just looking out for you okay? There's safer ways to have fun." 

"Right " He pursues a smile.

Too much fun wasn't part of the plan tonight but you made it difficult for him to do his job. Effortlessly. 

You fake a pout. "C'mon tiger, live a little! It's not going to be that bad." You try to convince him, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to keep your drink from spilling, his arms naturally overlapping and resting just right above your ass.

To hell with this. He's been dreaming of this his entire life. After being in such a conservative family and all, he deserved to try new things out. He was old enough. He thinks to himself, while catching a glimpse of Johnny chugging down a keg. "You're right." he smirks, and you offer your drink for him to taste. 

Mark's face scrunches a little from the alcohol, but it felt nice. Good enough for him to grab you by the arm and head to get one himself. 

He scans the counter full of different drinks with a variety of colored juices. He chooses the blue lemonade with vodka which you gladly made, handing him the red plastic cup after. "Cheers" you say, delighted with the smile he gave you. 

It wasn't long enough until the both of you were back to dancing again, not giving a care like everyone else. He could kiss you right now. And he did, he couldn't miss the opportunity to make your tongues turn purple. 

----

Johnny has done everything with all his might to get along with these jocks, kids these days do party harder huh? He doesn't remember having this kind of intolerance to alcohol before, he had to get it out of his system before he forgets what he's really here for.  

"Nah this dude's a goner!" Yuta enthusiastically points at Johnny, who now had both of his hands on his knees. 

"Hold on, I gotta have some air outside" he raises his arms in defeat, words slurring out of his mouth and vision so blurred he could barely tell where he's going. Finally after much stumbling and ending up in filthy corners, he managed to find a bathroom. Not a usable one though.

"Oh god- sorry" He says as he sees two people fucking each other's guts out on on the sink. "Nevermind" he immediately shuts the door and leaves them alone. It didn't take long for him to just head outside and vomit on the lawn of the frat house. Oh yes, great fertilizer. 

Johnny regains a very small amount of composure and he felt someone tap and rub his back. "You okay?" Jaehyun chuckles, with a drunk Yuta tagging along.

Johnny takes a deep breath and tries to stand straight with all his might, trying to act like everything was under control. "Shits wild here" He chaffs, but his brows furrow when he sees a familiar pattern on Yuta's skin. "What's that you got there?" Johnny tries to reach for the latter's arm carefully. 

Yuta excitedly raises his sleeve, revealing a tattoo. "Oh this? It's a tattoo man. Gotta get inked at some point!" Yuta says, proudly. "Do you want one? I know a place!"

Jaehyun sighs. He was hyperactive again. "Yuta-"

"What? C'mon look I got this as soon as I got out of my parent's house. Those folks made me feel like I was in jail!" The drunk boy overshares. Johnny pays attention because there was a possibility that these thoughts were sober. 

Johnny was quickly disappointed, but not surprised. "Yeah? That's cool. I'll pass. Kinda scared of needles..." He trails off. 

"Pfft. Pussy." Yuta spat, Johnny was ready to give him a piece of his knuckles. 

Jaehyun blocks Johnny with his arm, "Cut him some slack man, I've known this guy since high school. Let him have his fun. He won't even remember this." 

The three head back inside to enjoy the rest of the party when the duo completely forget what they were initially here for. Johnny had spent the rest of the night enjoying himself, so did Mark.

You and Mark decided to play along with the drinking games these people planned, with the faces that you will surely forget by tomorrow. 

You've already had a couple to drink, so it became harder for you to aim in beer pong. Luckily, Mark was right behind you, with a steady grip on your hips and one arm helping you aim for the ball. 

You close one eye trying to focus as he helped you aim for the cup. "She shoots, she scores!" he shouts playfully and there goes another drink for you. 

"You still alright? We can stop if you want," He whispers, lips tingling on your collarbone, sending chills to your spine. 

You turn to face him, a gentle hand on his lean chest. "I want you.".  You whisper, dragging a painfully slow finger to his lips. You were so knit together that you could feel the growing tent in his pants on your throbbing core. He was irresistible. 

He gulps. Here comes nothing. Johnny sure knows his shit huh?

Mark quickly leads you upstairs, looking for a vacant room to settle in. He turned the knobs one by one but they were all locked, your last resort was a surprisingly available restroom. 

"Will this do for you?" Mark hesitates, because he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.

Your tipsy self playfully pinches his cheek, "You do it for me, tiger." And it was enough to drive him to the edge. 

As soon as the both of you enter the bathroom, your lips connect once again, sloppily kissing each other like you were out of your minds. Like you wanted to swallow and consume this man whole. 

"I want you to see for yourself how crazy you make me." You say through the slapdash kisses.

He puts a hand under your dress, feeling your drenched cunt. "You're so fucking wet. Is this all for me?" He says out of breath, mouth almost watering with the thought of your pussy in his mouth.

"All yours baby." You bite his lower lip and stick out your tongue for him to suck. 

He raises your dress just below your ribcage and slides down your black lace lingerie as it fell to your ankles, "Just so you know, I'm keeping this." Mark smirks as he quickly puts it in his pocket. 

"It's meant to be yours," You purr, setting your back flat on the cold tiled wall, throwing your head back at the sensation of Mark leaving wet kisses on your thighs. 

He kneels and places your legs over his shoulders, lifting your feet off the ground. He was sturdy as a rock as his two arms held your thighs for support while you removed his cap for you to wear over your head and your fingers to be locked in his hair. 

"Fuck." You hiss as his tongue lapped on your folds, slurping on your wetness like he worshiped you. He sucked repeatedly on your clit making your legs tremble, so good that you might fall over but his reflexes were out of his world and he knew where exactly to support you. 

Your eyes painfully roll to the back of your head from the sensation he was giving you, "God, Kalen don't fucking stop-" you moan and you swear this man had some spell casted on his mouth by how magical it worked. 

You grind your hips involuntarily as his mouth followed it, like this could not get any better than it already was. But you could only take so much. "Kalen I'm gonna cum, fuck" 

"It's not over until it's over baby," he sets you down and removes his mouth from your pussy, you could barely stand with your legs feeling like absolute gelatin. 

Mark gets a condom out of his pocket and quickly unbuckles his belt, making his jeans fall to the ground and expose his throbbing cock, boxers wet with precum. 

"You think you can last longer for me baby girl?" 

You could only nod your head eagerly because you were growing extremely impatient. 

He wraps your legs around his waist in a swift move. "Good girl" He whispers, and you were more than ready to take him. Again and again. 

He inserts himself inside you, stretching your walls and you whimper, wrapping your arms around his head to keep his face close to the valley of your breasts. 

"That's right, open up for me, pretty girl." He pleads as he continues to thrust in a steady pace. Breath hitched as he brought his face up to you, slurping your tongue once more like it was a popsicle that he couldn't get enough of. "Taking me so well like always huh?" he chuckles and picks up his pace, throaty moans escaping his mouth. 

Thank fuck the music in this house was loud enough to blow off people's eardrums, making your moans almost inaudible outside, but loud enough for Marks pleasure. For his ears only. 

“Fuck I’m almost-” Mark huffs, “there.” he breathes. When his pace becomes sloppy and finally comes, you hold onto him, your legs numb that you could barely stand on your own. Conscious with the fact that Mark will get to see how fucked out you look, but he absolutely loved it. 

-----

"What'd I tell ya? That condom didn't go to waste." Johnny snickers while laying in bed, tossing his football. 

Head in the clouds with the thought of you, Mark could only smile to himself but quickly changes the subject before they both lose all purpose. 

"Find anything out yet?" Mark asks mindlessly, because all he could think about was you. 

"Nope." Johnny says, popping the p. He lied.

And something clicks with Mark. That packet of NCT he managed to keep in his pocket. He rushes over to his hamper and flips the pockets of his pants. 

"Someone handed it to me yesterday, I kept it for evidence to bring at the headquarters." He hands the packet to Johnny.

The elder observes it, trying to push the thought of Yuta possibly being a dealer to the very back of his head right now. Give it time. Mark was just starting to enjoy being with you, Johnny has been enjoying being one of the new aces in the football team, it wouldn't hurt to hold it out for a little while. 

"Also," Mark adds, "Y/n knows about Minjung. Said she lived across the hall."

"And?" Johnny anticipates. 

"That's all I know for now. It's still a big step though." Mark concludes.

----

Johnny spends his free time hanging with Jaehyun and the rest of the boys. If not in practice, they hit the gym to always be in tip-top shape. 

Yuta swings a heavy arm over Johnny's shoulders, "Well isn't it our quitter!" 

Johnny shoots Jaehyun a look, "You told me he wouldn't remember." 

Jaehyun could only chuckle, "Well he did." 

Yuta was loud as a goose, he seemed to have so much more energy than the other members of the team that Johnny became suspicious of where it came from. 

He recalls the time when the chief described the effects of the NCT substance, and one of them was being focused and hyperactive.

Yuta, besides being silly, was on top of his own game. After joking around he was a hundred percent focused on the gym, his reps were consistent, his routines were clean. Jaehyun tells Johnny that Yuta was also one of the greatest instruments of the football team. Though not gifted with the brightest mind, he worked hard to stay in this university to prove his parents wrong—and to avoid business school.

He was a potential heir to a known electronics company in Japan, but he insisted that he pursue being part of the varsity team to keep his scholarship in sports science. Which until now was an endless debate between him and his parents. 

Jaehyun had invited Johnny to stay over at the frat house to hang out, and he did. 

It was different to see it in daylight, with no people partying, no vomit and crushed chips on the floor, it looked well taken care of. 

"You guys clean this up yourselves after every party?" Johnny asks, impressed. 

"Yep," Jaehyun proudly says. 

"You gotta look out for the shit they leave behind here. It's amusing." Yuta retorts. 

Johnny raises a brow, "Oh yeah? Like what?" 

Without wit, Yuta replies, "Drugs"

Johnny, absolutely being taken back by his bold remark was immediately clutched by Jaehyun, "He doesn't mean it." 

His suspicion grew so much that he couldn't help but finally bring up the subject. "Like what? Like NCT?" he enunciates. 

Jaehyun, quite astounded by Johnny's knowledge with the substance replies, "Hm maybe. You know about that?" 

And he was in the trance. "Heard of it yeah, can you hook me up with some?

"Oh sure it’s right-" Yuta reaches for his pocket, "here." and sticks his middle finger out playfully. Johnny swats it away.

"Woah there-" Jaehyun almost bust a gut while laughing. "You're definitely new to this. We don't have any." He tells Johnny. "Don't be such a narc." 

Way too defensively, Johnny retorts, "I'm not!"

"That's what they all say." Yuta shrugs with a chuckle.

 He spends the rest of the afternoon with them and surprisingly hasn't dealt with unusual rituals and behavior. They acted their age, playing games on a PS5, drinking soda until their bladders exploded, filling themselves with junk food and spray cheese. He could be wrong about them after all.

----

Days passed and not a single thing has led them closer to their target person, it was harder than they thought even when everything felt like it was right in front of them. 

"Student-Parent day is coming soon, are you going?" You ask Mark as you take a sip of your coffee. 

You took him to your favorite coffee shop for the first time, it's a nice and quiet place for you to study and relax. 

"They have those?" Mark hesitates because then he'd have to tell his parents that he's undercover and they'd forget and blow it for him. "I guess so." 

"Good. Because I'd like you to meet my parents." You smile. Though you didn't know where you stood with Mark, the past few weeks with him had been a breath of fresh air. He was kind, funny and supportive. He was simple yet his ways of showing his thoughts were sophisticated, never had you once thought that you would get along so well with a person in such a short time. You weren't the one to ask for labels though. You simply liked to enjoy whatever you had at the moment. In your experience, putting labels on things just always gave a reason for it to vanish. 

"What why?" He says, a little too surprised.

"Look Kalen, don't break a sweat with this. I'm just going to introduce you. They won't mind." You assure him. 

He simply leaves the topic behind and ponders on how he could make this work. He was scared because you had no idea that this was all temporary, and he's terrified by the fact that he wishes it wasn't. He was finding all the possible reasons and excuses to retract himself from this relationship he has with you, but all you ever gave him was a reason to stay. It broke his heart knowing that one day, he'll have to disappoint you with the truth. 

"Something wrong?" 

He snaps out of it. "Nothing." and forces a smile. 

-----

"We aren't making any progress man," Mark runs a hand through his hair and sighs. His back falls heavily on his bed.

Johnny anxiously bites his lap, eyes fixated on the floor. "Yuta has a tattoo…" 

"What?" the younger jolts up. 

Johnny backs up defensively, "But it wasn't the one we saw! You know how the tattoo artist said he's done a couple of those."

"Are you shitting me right now? We've been trying to find it for weeks! Why didn't you tell me?" His voice raises, and a vein on his forehead couldn't help but emerge. 

"I don't think it's him man, I told you it’s not the same tattoo" Johnny defends. 

Mark lets out a pungent laugh, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek, his jaw stiffens. "Right. I knew it. " He says in disbelief. "Everything's right in front of you already! Too scared to bust your new besties now?" 

"They aren't my new besties stop making up bullshit." The elder stubbornly defends. 

"No you stop because I'm actually trying here!" 

"Oh you are? Explain why you're getting so serious with that girl of yours. Wait until she finds out that she's just part of the plan." He jumps on Mark's throat and walks out of the room. 

The thing is, you weren't even part of the plan. Not at all. 

-----

"You better have good shit for me today." The chief clearly was not being in his best mood today. 

Mark scoffs, he and Johnny had not settled their differences since the fight from two days ago, they were doing their own investigations without communicating. Which was a big no.

"Ask the big guy here, I'm sure he has something." Tongue in his cheek, Mark glares. 

The chief slams a big hand on the table and shouts, "Stop acting like fucking children!" 

Johnny stiffened up on his seat, and gulped before he spoke. "I think we need to initiate a drug test on one of the students, chief. I have my eye on this one person. We could pretend to say that the thing is randomized and mandatory. If the intel can look up information about his parents, we could send a pretend automated message about their child being randomly selected for a drug test." 

The chief seems to be taking Johnny's point well, "And who is this you suspect?" 

"Nakamoto Yuta." 

Mark looks at Johnny with wide eyes, he thought Johnny wouldn't be turning him in. 

"I see. I'll get the department to execute this idea of yours and we'll let you know right away. Dismissed." 

Mark catches up to Johnny who had been walking ahead of him and tries to reach for the elder's shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Let go of me," Johnny knocks Mark's hand off his shoulder. "Are you happy now?" 

Dumbfounded, Mark couldn't seem to understand where Johnny's irritation was coming from. "Look man, I'm sorry you had to turn one of your friends in but you know it's our job." 

"I know okay? I don't need you telling me what to do because so far, I know pretty damn well that I'm not meddling in your fucking business." 

Mark pushes a hard hand on Johnny, making him stumble a little. "My relationship has nothing to do with this. Are you jealous? Because if you are, I know pretty damn well you can score a lot of chicks here. I don't see the problem." 

Johnny tries to speak but was unable to because Mark had already stormed off elsewhere. 

----

 "Shit. My parents are coming to fetch me today." Yuta runs a veiny hand through his ginger hair; another reason for his parents to pull him out of university. But here's the first: 

Jaehyun, disinterested even if he knew it was serious whenever Yuta's parents butt in and ask why.

"They wanna do a drug test on me." 

Jaehyun chortles, "What? You? What made them think that? Besides you acting like a crackhead?" 

"They got this stupid email from the dean that I was amongst the randomly chosen individuals to get tested." He pops a sour kid patch in his mouth, "They're never letting this go." He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. "I have never even tried NCT." he rolls his eyes. 

Yuta, though by the looks of him, gave an impression of a boy who would try everything in front of him, but he's a wuss with a good conscience. Too good.

"Well, you are innocent after all, right?" Jaehyun shrugs. "There's nothing to worry about. Um, besides your dyed hair, your tattoo, that lip piercing." He eyes him up and down. "No biggie, just probably uh—two weeks worth of grounding. And no allowance." 

"Fuck you man." the ginger-haired boy glared.

------

Johnny walks around the campus, alone. It sucked to not be on good terms with Mark, what ever happened to bros before hoes? It just wasn't the same doing things without him. Johnny had given Mark his personal space for the both of you, but at times like this—it was the hardest to stay out of it. 

As he passes by the back of the Fine Arts building, he sees two familiar faces on the exposed staircase. 

He squints his eyes and tries to focus on who those people might be, the mop of ash purple hair too familiar. But one thing that utterly shocked him was the sight of someone he expected the least.

It was you and Jaehyun, standing way too close to each other for anyone's liking.

Johnny takes a deep breath and sucks in his cheeks. He didn't know what this meant, and he wished he wouldn't have to be the one to give it any interpretation that would disappoint him and especially Mark. 

He walks away from the scene before you get a chance to see him.

"Jaehyun, you don't have to stand this close to me," You backed up, hips hitting the ledge lightly. 

He looks to the side, then back at you. "Sorry," he cockily says, backing up with both of his hands raised. "Can't help it. My best friend's too fine. And someone was looking." he mumbles.

"What?" 

"Nothing, he's gone"

"You know I'm with Kalen right now Jaehyun." You say with worry, it could've been anyone. "Quit. Don't ruin this for me." 

He manages to let a disgruntled chuckle, "And yet you still can't put a label on it." 

And with that, he was off. 

The entire time Johnny was battling with himself if she should tell Mark about what he saw or not. Them being in a misunderstanding right now doesn't change the fact that he was still his best friend. 

After the excruciatingly slow walk to the dorm, he had hoped that Mark wouldn't be around, so he wouldn't have to face him with the information he had right away. He couldn't even form the words for it. The. again, when did anything ever go his way, right? 

Johnny enters the room and there was Mark, munching on some chips while viewing something on his laptop. Something probably for one of his classes. Mark didn't have to take this so seriously (by this he meant his classes) but he did, because the Mark we all know just loved to learn. Good for him. 

He ignores Johnny's presence; though he was very much aware of it. The elder plops down his bed and grabs his football to toss around. It was so awkward; not greeting each other with their usual weirdness and excitement. It felt like there was this gaping hole between them that both of them were afraid to cross, and no one had the initiative to take a risk—for now. 

"Find anything?" Johnny asks Mark, eyes on the ceiling. 

"Nope." 

"Why not?" 

"Do you have anything?"

Well, he did. But not about their task. Instead, he says "Nope." but he couldn’t help but ask. “How are you and y/n?”

“Good.” Mark plainly answers.

“Good.”

And left it at that. 

-----

You were going to let your parents meet Mark today, and his would meet yours. You were new to this, there was not a single man you had introduced to your parents, aside from Jaehyun. But that was a different story, because Jaehyun was a childhood friend. 

So Mark was the first… whatever this was called. You couldn’t get yourself to call him that, you didn’t deserve to. For you labels were earned, not just given. But this will do for now. 

You see him from a distance with his parents, he resembled his father’s face structure and his mother’s eyes. His smile was uniquely his own. You wave a hand in the air and he catches the sight of it, smiling even wider. 

“You’re in college again honey?” Mark’s mom asks, clueless.

“Mom, I'm undercover please don’t bring that up anywhere. Please keep quiet for me.” He whispers sternly. 

His mom zips her mouth figuratively, his dad got the idea of the whole thing, so they acted according to the assignment. 

As he got closer to where you were, his legs grew weak. But he couldn’t falter, he had to put on a strong face. But at that moment, Mark wanted to be buried alive. He wanted to turn his back and run away.

“Mom, dad, this is Kalen.” You present him to them with a grin. 

“H-hello.” Mark lets out, his chest clenching. 

“Kalen. You sure I haven’t seen you before?” Your father says, gripping Mark’s hand firm, he could almost squeeze the guts out of it. Your father was his deputy chief. 

Mark, crushed under the man’s grip, “N-no sir.” he manages to blurt out. 

You sense the tension and tell your dad, “Dad, that’s enough.” 

Your dad let go, with a smug and bitter look on his face. Your mom, who- with absolutely no idea what Mark has to do with your father, greets him politely. 

You greet Mark's parents with glee, and proceed to walk with him, keeping a fair distance from both your parents. "Sorry about my dad, he's just stressed about his job. He's a deputy chief, rustling with knuckleheads all the time." You explain. 

Sure he's been through a lot. Mark thought. "Yea yea, I totally get it. It's fine." he nods. Knuckleheads. He laughs to himself. 

The rest of the parents’ day event was a total drag, every time Mark got into eye contact with their chief, it had seemed like the man wanted to rip his head away from his body, or maybe skin him alive. Mark had no idea, because if he did he wouldn’t have risked going this far with you. What is left to do now? How can he ever face his boss knowing that he broke the first rule given to them right in his face? And with his own daughter? He should start digging his own grave at this point. 

But the chief didn't lay a finger on him, not now when his daughter was at stake. 

----

Mark has been itching to tell Johnny about what had happened. He was willing to set aside their differences because he needed his best friend, now. 

"Johnny-" Mark breathes, not making eye contact with the elder who was on his phone, this room had been dead silent for days. 

Johnny's head perks up, it was nice hearing him call his name again. "Yeah?" 

"I kinda messed up… big time." Mark scratches the back of his head, shameful. 

Johnny sits up, and listens to the younger more attentively. "What do you mean?" 

"Y/n.." he trails off, "Y/n is the chief's daughter." And catches his face on his hands. 

"Fuck…" Johnny didn't know what to say. "How'd you know?" 

"The student-parent weekend thing. God, I swear dude he was going to skin me alive if he could. But shit, I didn't know!" Mark exclaims, hands all over the place. "If I did then I wouldn't have gone through with this. She has never told me about her parents until that day. I don't know what to do." 

He seemed so helpless, he didn't want to break to you like this, it was too messy. But damn if he didn't want to keep being with you. It couldn't end like this, not yet. 

"I- I don't know what to say man… God I'm sorry this sucks ass. You know I always let you do what makes you happy right? But what if," Johnny stops, debating if he should go on with what he planned to say. 

"What if?" Mark anticipates. 

"What if she isn't who you thought she was?" 

"Great. I'm so fucking stupid for thinking you would be with me on this one." Mark slams his hands on his lap and stands, slamming the door on the way out. 

"Mark-" Johnny reaches for the door but misses a beat, it was too late. He let his best friend slip away from him again. 

And as soon as Mark left their room, he was on his way to meet up with you, hoping you would be free. He hadn't had much time with you after the following days of the event because you had always excused yourself with how busy you are with your submissions and requirements, or that's what you would like to tell him. 

Your phone rings in your pocket as you excuse yourself from the people you were with at the moment, when you check to see who it was, you find the quietest place possible. 

"Kalen," You spoke, "What's up?" 

"Are you free? I was hoping I'd finally catch you." 

You sigh, you missed spending time with him. "I am," you say in advance before you bail out of this place you were in. "See you at the cafe in 10?" 

You hear him chuckle over the line, and you just knew he was smiling when he said "Great, I'll see you." 

"See you, Kal." You smile and tuck your phone back in your pocket. 

"Who was that?" Jaehyun asks when he bumps into you in the hallway of the frat house. "Oh you've got that sickening smile right now. It must've been Kalen" He rolls his eyes. 

"Whatever Jae," You brush past him. "I'm heading out." 

"But we're not done!" 

You didn't respond and left, shutting the door behind you. 

The cafe was a short walk from your university, but you just happened to bump into Mark on the way, now you don't have to walk alone. 

He smoothly slips his hand in yours, holding it gently and reading your expression. You look to the side with a wide grin on your face, unable to help the fact that you were blushing like crazy. 

"Nice hoodie," he comments. The garment looked a little too familiar to him, he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. “You never gave back my jacket..”

You mentally facepalm, forgetting the fact that you were wearing Jaehyun's hoodie. You pray that Mark wouldn't see this on him anytime soon, you wouldn't want him to get a bad idea. 

"Oh right that, I’ll get it dry cleaned and I’ll give it back" you utter. "Something bothering you?" You ask, trying to read his sulky expression. 

He shakes his head, "No no, I want you to keep it. And I just missed you." He forms a small smile, making your heart melt. You were so easily captivated by his presence that it scared you. He always left you feeling unhinged—in a good way. 

"I missed you too, tiger." You grip his hand a little tighter.  

When he licks his lips, only by then you realize how much you missed kissing him. Right then and there, you just wanted another taste. This was exactly why you were trying to keep yourself busy and away from him for a bit; you had to convince yourself that you couldn’t be attached to him because you could never take care of the things you keep. 

He opens the door for you like always and the chimes in the cafe ring in a sweet melody, a sound that always reminds you of your moments with him. The both of you always shared comfortable memories in this cafe, from small coffee dates to working on papers until it closed. You couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else. 

When you settle down he automatically takes your usual orders right away. You could not take your eyes off him, he was such a dream.

He sets the tray down with your drinks, and a pastry that you shared a love-hate relationship with. Cheesecake.

You chuckle at the thought of recalling all the times that you convinced Mark that cheesecake slices weren’t supposed to be as huge as they are and that there are definitely better one’s in other places, but Mark’s favorite was Starbucks’. Maybe that’s why you have learned to love it somehow, because you get to enjoy it with him. 

"I thought you didn't like this? You almost finished the whole thing… I literally bought this for myself." He says sarcastically, very much amused at how you barely even noticed that you were close to finishing the entire thing. 

"Oh shit.. sorry" You show him a pout and feed the last piece to him. "Here." You smile cutely. 

He rolls his eyes and bites it off your fork, you both bid goodbye to the cheesecake. 

Mark’s phone rings in his pocket and when he checks to see, it was Johnny. He lets out a sigh and puts his phone back in his pocket. 

“Are you going to take that?” You ask. 

“Nah”

But Johnny was persistent, he did see this coming. He knew that Mark would ignore him at first so he decided to send him a message. This was about their job. 

“Mark, I know you hate me right now but we have to go to the office. Yuta’s tests came back.” Johnny sends. 

Mark takes a peek at his message, immediately standing up. 

“Where are you going?” You say, surprised. 

“I’m sorry I gotta go- meet my brother. He needs me for something.” He hesitantly leans forward, wanting to kiss you on the lips but kisses your forehead instead. “Text me when you get home okay?.” And with that, he was off. 

Mark rings Johnny and the elder quickly answers the call, Mark informs him that he would be heading to the office by himself since he was already closer to the location. 

But he suddenly remembers about his conflict with the chief. So he waited for Johnny to arrive outside. 

Lowering his pride he says, “I’m scared.” 

Johnny looks at him with empathy and says, “We can’t change what happened Mark. Just take it all in for now and we’ll figure out what to do about it later.” He pats the younger’s back and gives his shoulders an assuring squeeze before heading inside. 

Mark could not look at his boss, the feeling of wanting to be eaten alive was back again, why did he have to be your father? 

When Mark finally gets the courage to face him, the chief yells, “The fuck are you looking at?” making Mark flinch and shrink into his seat. 

Johnny felt the need to protect his friend and at the same time, to get what they were really here for. “Um, Sir can you save the ass beating for next time? We really need to look into Yuta’s results now.” He scratches the back of his neck. 

The chief grunts angrily, getting the file from his drawer. “Negative.” He says. 

Mark and Johnny give each other a look and take the folder that had the results, trying to analyze how it could possibly be negative. 

“Dammit.” Johnny whispers to himself, they had to move quickly before everything slips away from them. He takes note of Yuta’s contact number in the file to use for later. He closes the folder and places it back on the desk. “We’ll take care of this chief.” 

“You better. And you,” He presses a hard finger on Mark’s chest, “Stop fucking around with my daughter. I’ll cut your dick off.” 

Mark purses his lips before speaking, “She’s-” he gulps, “She’s really great sir. I’m not playing around with her. I’d never do anything to hurt her.” 

“You already are.” 

-----

The following day, Yuta receives a text from an unknown number, asking him to meet in an unusual location on campus. He was very skeptical at first but  believed that it was probably harmless. 

“Yah, Rolan! Sup.” He offers his fist to bump. “I was just waiting for someone here too. Some random number texted me and I was like "you know, fuck it"” he shrugs.

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle. Was innocence even the word to describe this? "And you believed them?" Johnny shakes his head.

“Yeah! Look here’s the number” he flashes his phone screen to Johnny, “I wonder where they are. Let me give them a call.” he mindlessly puts the phone next to his ear. Yuta hears a muffled cellphone ringtone and looks around for it. “Yo, your phone’s ringing you should get that.” Yuta says to Johnny, still having absolutely no idea.

“It was us who texted you, dummy.” Mark retorts, appearing from the shadows, now both of them are cornering Yuta. 

“Yo,-” Yuta laughs, still not getting the point of this all. “What’s your name again?” 

Mark rolls his eyes, “Kalen.” 

“Right! Kalen wassup? You’re his brother right?” Yuta points to Johnny with his thumb up.

Johnny pops a tongue in his cheeks, and cocks his brow. “Alright, fun’s over.” It was a shame he had to do this too early, but it had to stop. He locks Yuta’s throat with his arm, pushing him onto the solid brick wall. 

Yuta tries to toughen up and tries to push Johnny’s arm off, but due to their size difference, Johnny definitely kept him still. 

“What do you know about him” Johnny asks sternly. 

“A-about who?” Yuta coughs.

“Jaehyun. What does he do?” Mark follows. 

“Besides being the most handsome man I know, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mark shakes his head, “Well,” and gets a gun out of the pocket of his hoodie. “Will this make you talk?”

Yuta looks at him with wide eyes, he was now scared shitless. “Why- how- who are you guys!” He exclaims. 

“The police mother fucker.” Johnny says. 

But despite everything, Yuta’s tactless mouth was definitely not his best asset. “I knew it. you looked too old to be a freshman.” He looks over at Johnny. “And you, I didn’t expect you to be a cop but you did give Narc vibes in that philosophy class.” 

Mark and Johnny give each other a look, they could not be sidetracked. 

“Are you done?” Johnny tells Yuta, and he simply nods. “So are you going to talk?”

“I’m telling you I don’t know! He never trusts me with his business, he says I have a big mouth.” 

Mark snickers, “I can tell.”

Yuta scoffs, and follows, “He’s been out often recently, but he never tells me where he’s going. So I don’t know what I can do for you.” 

“Listen here buddy,” Johnny warns. “If this gets to your parents that you’re involved with someone who supplies and distributes drugs, you’re going to get your entire family deported. Do you want that?” 

Yuta gulps, “No.” then helplessly says, “I don’t know how to earn his trust with these kinds of things. He’s known me since forever but-” 

“No buts.” Mark interrupts. “Use that head of yours or your ass is going back to Japan.” 

-------

Yuta had been on edge ever since that encounter with Mark and Johnny, now this entire thing would be up to him if he cooperated or not. Yuta’s heart had been lost a couple times, but it was definitely looking to be in the right place. So he’s trying his best to help out, even if it meant that he would have to turn in his best friend. 

When he gets the time to be alone with his thoughts he looks back at all the times that Jaehyun had made him feel like he wasn’t enough to be his friend. Not giving him a good position in football, walking out on him whenever he wanted to, keeping secrets from him. Maybe he was too busy trying so hard to be validated by Jaehyun that he never really got to realize that he lost himself in the process. Letting himself be trampled all over by everyone; this was his time to do something not just for himself, but for everyone else.

On the night when Jaehyun could not escape from Yuta’s presence any longer, he thought that it would be harmless to let his friend tag along for once. It’s not like he had other friends to be with, right? Right. Jaehyun could believe that if he wanted to. 

“I’m a bit sore today, you think you can drive me?” Jaehyun asks Yuta as they were walking in the parking lot after practice. 

To be fair, Yuta was sore too. But of course they wouldn’t care. “Alright, where to?” He still manages to say. 

“I’ll tell you along the way.” 

Yuta simply shrugs and Jaehyun tosses him his car keys, placing their gym bags at the trunk of his car. Jaehyun had given him directions while driving and it was somewhere he had never been and seen before. “Are you sure it’s here?” He says, trying to drive into a dark abandoned building with only the car’s headlights being the source of light. 

“Yeah yeah, wait for me here.” Jaehyun opens the door of the car and slips away from it. “Don’t worry, this place is safe.” He tells Yuta and shuts the door close. 

Yuta immediately whips out his phone, thinking that this might be his biggest clue and texts Johnny. 

I don’t know where I am, but I’m gonna send you my pinned location based on what my gps says alright? I think this was where Jaehyun had been going. 

Johnny immediately tells Mark about this and they immediately take their car to go to where Yuta had told them. 

 Rolan: Yuta, it’s not safe for you to stay there. Can you drive away and head back here? It would be better if we keep you alive. 

I guess I could, Jaehyun’s pretty far out now. I saw him go in somewhere, I’m sure you’ll find this entrance when you get here.

With that Yuta drives off and tries to find his way back to the campus, hoping that this would be successful for Mark and Johnny. He had such a strong feeling about this, everything could go right, or just extremely wrong. But he had to expect both to keep his feet on the ground. He did the right thing. He kept telling himself that. 

“Dude this place is sketchy as hell.” Mark says, looking around. “Do you think Yuta told us the truth? I mean he’s Jaehyun’s bestfriend right?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try Mark, he seemed pretty genuine about it. Besides, all Jaehyun does is use him. I’m sure he’s tired of it.” Johnny says as they searched the place with their flashlights, their guns ready to fire if they ever go under attack. 

Finally, they find the entrance Yuta has been talking about, the chain attached to the door unlocked and loosened. When they get closer they arm themselves and keep their guard, Johnny kicks the door open and Mark could not believe what he had just seen. 

This couldn’t be. He kept repeating to himself, he didn’t want to believe that this was his reality. 

The reality that you were the one who was behind all of this.

“Hands up! We’re the police.” Johnny shouts, echoing throughout the entire warehouse. 

Mark gulps, he could not bring himself to move his feet and go closer. When you see him, you feel like you have been the biggest disappointment in someone’s life. “Kalen,” You plead with your hands up, terrified with the fact that Johnny had called off a warning shot, making you and Jaehyun back up. 

“Y/n.” Mark says, still struggling to get closer to you and lift his arm to aim his gun towards you. “Why- how could you?”

And you couldn’t answer him. The last thing you ever wanted to do was disappoint him, and yet you turned out to be every single disappointment that this world could think of. 

“Great.” Jaehyun says in anger, remorseful with the fact that both of you just got caught by the two people who had been the closest to you these past months. 

“Mark, come on. This is just as hard as it is for me than it is for you. We have to do this. It’s all we’ve been working for.” Johnny faces him, also extremely disheartened by this revelation.

Mark? His real name was Mark? “Who’s Mark?” You ask before he continues to approach you.

“Right. Now you know.” He takes a deep breath. He gets his handcuffs out of his pocket and races towards you before you could even get away. It was bizarre; how you even thought of escaping this. 

“You have the right to remain silent,” His hands shake while putting them against your back, “Anything that you say can and will be held against you in the court of law.” He swallows, and you sob. 

 “I’m so sorry I-” he cuts you off.

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.” He concludes the Miranda rights and adds, “It’s one thing to disappoint me, but another to disappoint your father.”

-----end------

[qianinterprises]

WayV Reaction: to you flirting with their younger sibling

Pairing(s): WayV x Reader

Genre: crack, fluff

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.9k

Author's Notes: Hello anon! I'm sorry it took me so long to get to your request! I really hope I interpreted your request accurately! And thank you! I'm so glad you like my content! (I also want to mention that I used younger brother for all of them because I thought the request said brother until I went back and looked. Then I didn't want to change everything I'd just written so I just went with it. I'm sorry).

Tagging: @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon

Kun:

Shortly after Kun was announced to be joining NCT in 2018, he also found out that his mother was expecting a second child, which, naturally, came as quite a shock. He was already an adult. Had his mother decided on more children when he was younger, a teenager even, he wouldn't have even batted an eye! But his little brother or sister would be 22 years younger. That was just weird.

However, that didn't stop Kun from nervously sitting in the waiting room holding your hand the day his little brother was born, vowing to always protect the sweet little bundle of joy.

It was that promise that led to where you both were now, Kun holding his babbling three year old brother in his arms as the boy waved to his retreating mother.

"I'll pick him up tomorrow morning," she called over her shoulder as the door closed behind her.

"So what do you want to do now?" Kun asked, looking between you and the little boy squirming in his arms.

"I wanna dance with (y/n)!" the little boy declared, wiggling out of Kun's hold and reaching for you.

Laughing, you took hold of the boys hands and led him into the center of the room, sending Kun a wide grin as he played music on his phone.

"It would be an honor to dance with you kind sir," you responded in an overly posh voice, taking his smaller hands in yours and spinning around the living room.

He let out a giggle as you spun him around before picking him up in your arms and swaying to the new, now reasonably slow song.

"You're an even better dancer than your brother!" you cooed.

The boy beamed at you.

"Hey!" Kun argued, biting back a laugh as you turned to look at him.

"You can't go stealing my significant other away from me!" Kun said, playfully glaring at the young boy in his arms.

Said boy, seeming to take his confidence from to much time spent with Ten, leaned up and pressed a kiss to your cheek, smirking at his brother.

"Wait for me to get older!" he said before squirming out of your hold.

"I'll wait forever, my prince," you laughed, placing him on the floor, watching him run over to YangYang, who had just entered the room. The maknae leaning down to scoop the boy up, disappearing back into his own room.

Kun stood up from his place on the couch and placed a kiss to your cheek.

"He really likes you," he hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

You just smiled, resting your head on his shoulder as his hips suddenly began to sway to the music still playing, coaxing you to follow his lead as he danced you around the living room.

"I'm a much better dancer," he whispered.

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips in response.

Ten

The whole world knew that Ten had a younger sister. She was never hidden away, taking her camera confidence from her older brother as she took the newfound attention that came with her celebrity brother in stride. What the world didn't know, however, was that Ten also had a younger brother, one year younger than his sister. A brother that was extremely shy, choosing to hide behind his older sister rather than face the limelight.

Both had been over to visit the dorm countless times, though Ten's sister could only visit when Yukhei wasn't in the dorm after the large man had gotten slightly drunk and stupidly confessed to finding his ge's sister incredibly hot. His brother, on the other hand, was always welcomed and often found himself visiting once every few months for a week when WayV had a little less packed schedules.

You and Ten had picked the younger boy up from the airport two days prior and he'd been laughing and goofing off with the other members (especially Sicheng, to Ten's surprise). Today, however, the younger boy had been surprising glued to your side, always offering to get you a drink or a snack or share a blanket with you, which only made the older boys grow smirks as they not so subtly teased the boy.

"I think he likes you," Ten muttered, eying the boy retreating to the kitchen to grab a water.

You nodded, leaning against your boyfriend and desperately trying to surpress your giggle, not wanting the boy to feel awkward or bullied.

"I don't like it."

You slapped Ten's chest softly.

"Let him be, it's puppy love!" you cooed.

"Puppy love or whatever. You're mine."

You rolled your eyes at the older boys antics and gave his brother a soft smile upon his return, taking the water he offered you.

"Thank you, sweetheart. You're so nice!" you grinned, reaching up to lightly ruffle the boys hair.

Pink dusted his cheeks and he looked down, but he couldn't had his growing smile.

Ten gently elbowed you in the side and pulled you closer to hiss in your ear.

"Flirt with him again and I'll make sure he hears you screaming my name later," he hissed in your ear.

"Come on Ten! He's your brother for goodness sake! It's not like he's going to ask me out. It's harmless!" you argued back.

Ten let out a grumble and turned back to the television, tugging you closer slightly.

"You're going to be the death of me," he grumbled.

WinWin

The day Sicheng found out that he had a half brother on his father's side, he didn't know how to feel. On one hand, he ecstatic. He'd always wanted a younger brother. On the other, what was he supposed to do with this information. His estranged father had never had any intention on telling him that he had a brother, so why now.

It seemed the answer was easy enough to figure out as the eight year old boy was suddenly dropped off at the dorm after Sicheng had been blindsided to watch the male while his father and his step-mother went on a seven day cruise.

While Kun had promised that it was fine, Sicheng knew the leader would rather do other things than help Sicheng take care of an eight year old on their only week off, so Sicheng had called you to come help, promising that he'd take you out for a fancy dinner if you helped him babysit for the week.

You didn't need promises to spend time with your boyfriend, even if it was babysitting.

When you entered the dorm, the first thing you noticed was Sicheng's younger brother playing game with Kunhang on the living room television, and from the looks of it, the eight year old was killing it.

"I win again!" the little boy declared as Kunhang gaped at the television.

"I- how-" he muttered.

"You must be really good to beat Kunhang!" you piped up, sending the younger male a teasing smile.

To the new voice, the eight year old looked up and the controller dropped from his hands.

"Your hot," he declared matter-of-factly.

Your eyes widened. You certainly hadn't been expected that, but a small laugh bubbled from your lips.

"Your not so bad yourself," you retorted with a wink.

"Are you flirting with my brother?!" Sicheng asked, voice sounding scandalized as he approached the two of you, holding a small cup filled with fruit punch for the young boy.

"How can I not when his looks rival his brothers." you responded, sending a wink to the young boy before pressing a kiss to Sicheng's cheek.

The boy had red rising to his cheeks and he took a sip on punch to distract himself as he awkwardly toed at the floor. Kunhang let out a boisterous laugh from his place on the couch.

"This is so weird and so comically!"

"Bet I can beat you again even with this hot person sitting beside me! They'll give me good luck!" the boy decreed, hoping up onto the couch beside the other member.

"Don't call my signifiant other hot!" Sicheng whined.

You gave Sicheng another peck to the cheek and leaned against him.

"Let him have his fun," you muttered, reaching down to grab Sicheng's hand in yours.

Lucas

Yukhei and his younger brother had always been somewhat close. They spoke on a regular basis and his brother had certainly spent time at the dorms, but he was also a busy person.

Unlike Yukhei, who had given up taking over his fathers company to be an idol, his brother was being groomed by their father to be the next CEO of said company, which meant that the boy didn't come around a whole hell of a lot. Which also played into the reason why he'd never meant his brothers significant other. That is, until you opened the door to the dorm while Yukhei was being scolded by Kun for letting Bella pee in the house again.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eying the tall man.

Right away, you knew this person had to be related to Yukhei in some way. They two were practically identical. This man might just be a little shorter and not quite as stocky.

"I believe it is I who can help YOU, beautiful," he said.

Immediately, your cheeks heated up from the awkwardness. Clearly this man had no clue that you were sleeping with his brother. Or maybe he did and he just didn't care.

"I uh... come in... handsome..." you mumbled back awkwardly, having no clue how one should respond to such a greeting.

"So are you their maid or something? Because if you come work for me, I guarantee I can treat you better."

This guy was shameless!

"Uh... the others are this way... But I'm not a maid so..."

He followed behind you into the dorm and you could practically feel his eyes on your ass. You didn't think you liked Yukhei's brother very much.

"Come on babe, I know you're a shy little mouse, but give me something to work with here! Aren't you at all interested!"

"Well... you are handsome. As handsome as your brother but-"

"My brothers got a girlfriend! If you like him, surely you'll like me! Come on, one date!"

"I-I"

"Yeah her boyfriend doesn't really want her going on a date with her boyfriends little brother," Yukhei said, swooping in and draping an arm around your shoulders.

You felt yourself relax into his side, especially as the male in front of you realized the error of his ways.

"Oh my God! I am so sorry! I don't know why I just assumed you were single! Can we start over!" the male requested, getting on his knees to beg for forgiveness.

Ok, maybe this guy wasn't so bad.

"Get up you idiot. You're acting like you've never met a girl before!"

At that, a loud laugh erupted from your lips, making them both look at you.

"It's really ok! You didn't know! Just don't do it again," you laughed.

Xiaojun

The thought of Dejun having a younger sibling was something that had never crossed his mind, especially when he'd turned 16. He just never considered his parents would want to have more children until his mother informed him that she was, in fact, pregnant once again. Six years later, he didn't get to spend much time with his baby brother, but when he did, he tended to make the most of it. So when his mother offered to let Dejun babysit for the afternoon while she did some shopping, he couldn't have been happier. Especially because you'd finally get to meet the little boy.

When he was dropped off, you were blown away by the cute little boy that you immediately pulled him from Dejun's arms, cuddling him to your side.

"You are the most precious thing I've ever seen!" you cooed.

The boy cuddled against your side and placed a kiss on your cheek, one that had you beaming.

"You're so handsome! When you get older, you're going to have all the heads turning, just like your big brother!"

The boy giggled at that and wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you tightly.

"Can I date you too when I get older?" he asked.

Dejun scoffed in the back of his throat, but you could see the fond smile on his face.

"Why of course you can! Unless you already have a partner!" you beamed, ruffling the boys hair.

At that, Dejun crossed his arms over his chest and stared at you with a pout.

"I don't wanna share," he whined.

You rolled your eyes at him, letting out a small little laugh as you pressed a kiss to his little brother's forehead and patted his back, sending him off to Kun, who promised to make the younger boy ramen for lunch.

"Are you seriously jealous of your little brother?"

"You shouldn't flirt with other guys," he whined.

You cooed at the male and leaned in close to press a soft kiss against his lips.

"You're the only one for me baby," you promised, laughing as you overheard the younger boy requesting that Kun make you a bowl as well.

"He's getting too attached," Dejun mumbled.

You kissed his lips again and took hold of his hand.

"I'm yours babe, and nothing is going to change that," you promised.

Hendery

Kunhang thought his parents must really like having children. And, to be fair, his childhood had been a pretty happy one. However, he was the youngest of four and the only boy. He was the baby and it showed. He was constantly being doted on by his parents and even his sisters who, at one point, would dress him up in make-up and make him pretend to be their fourth sister.

However, all of that changed when Hendery was 10 and news of his mothers pregnancy reached his unwitting ears. He had been angry. Angry because his youngest sister had told him "horror stories" of what it was like for her when he was born. He wasn't exactly ready. However, when his brother was born, he had a friend. Even if said friend was 10 years younger.

Now, a twelve year old boy sat perched on the couch between Kunhang and Ten, eyes glued to the television as they watched Harry Potter for the thousandth time.

"Does anyone want anything to eat? I'm going to make a sandwich," you called.

When no one responded, you set to the kitchen to put your own sandwich together when a figure suddenly appeared behind you.

"I bet your sandwiches are delicious! Could you make me one?" he asked.

You glanced back to give him a wide grin.

"Sure thing honey bunches! What would you like on it?"

He listed off everything he wanted on the sandwich and you set to work assembling it for him. You sliced the sandwich in half triangle style the way you usually ate your sandwiches and gave him a wide smile.

He sat down at the island and took a large bite, humming a little over-exaggeratedly at the flavor.

"It's so good!" he said.

You laughed and ruffled his hair before opening the fridge and handing him a 12 ounce bottle of coke.

"Only the best for you! Gotta keep those muscles growing if your gonna play spots when you get older!"

"Mom says I'm made for the soccer field! She wants me to try out to be a professional player! But I want to be an idol like Kunhang!"

What he said surprised you. Kunhang hadn't told you his little brother had interest in joining the entertainment industry.

"I'm sure you'd be great at it!" you encouraged.

"Do you think I'd fit in with NCT?" he asked.

"Are you kidding? You'd put them all to shame with your looks and talent! No one could beat you!"

"What are we talking about?" Kunhang asked, moving up behind you and wrapping an around around your waist.

You picked up half of your sandwich off your plate and offered it to him, to which he took a bite straight from your hand.

"He's interested in joining the entertainment industry!" you beamed.

Kunhang looked over at him, eyebrow raised.

"Ok, but stay away from my partner with those good looks and talent that could put us all to shame," he mocked, kissing your temple before plopping down beside you.

YangYang

YangYang was born five minutes earlier than his identical twin brother, which he had kept a secret from the prying eyes of the fans. His brother, while sharing his same facial features and eyes, was very different from YangYang.

His twin was more introverted and, unlike YangYang, had 0 interest becoming an idol. Rather, he wanted to become a veterinarian to go along with his love of animals. So, when YangYang went away to train, his brother was taking medical classes and it just never made sense for either of them to mention each other, specifically because YangYang's twin didn't care much for access media attention.

The members, however, were very aware of YangYang's twin, although they'd found out the hard way when his brother had come to visit and Sicheng had accidentally yelled at him to get his "damn shoes out of the hallway."

It had been hysterical when it was all said and done and his twin had quickly bonded with the older boys, letting them pull him out of his shell to find the energetic boy that liked to compete with YangYang on everything.

While you knew that YangYang had a twin brother, and that they were identical, the thoughts didn't cross your mind as you showed up at the dorm to spend time with YangYang. When Dejun opened the door, he informed you that YangYang was finishing up a shower and would be out soon, directing you to his bedroom.

When you walked in, however, you found "YangYang" sitting on his bed playing a game on his phone. Assuming he'd gotten out of the shower before Dejun had realized, you thought nothing of it and sauntered over to the boy, taking his phone out of his hands and plopping down on his lap.

"I missed you," you said, leaning back against him, letting your head rest against his collar bone.

"I um..." the boy stammered.

You'd never known YangYang to get flustered, but chopped it up to the members being in the dorm.

"What's wrong baby? Cat got your tongue?" you cooed, sending him a mischievous wink as you purposefully wiggled your bum on his lap.

"I-I"

"What the hell is going on?!" a very familiar voice tore through your reverie and your eyes shot up to the door where... YangYang stood, towel wrapped around his waist, another drying his hair.

"YangYang?!" you gaped, jumping off the lap you were sitting on. "But who?!" you turned back to the man on the bed and then it dawned on you.

YangYang had mentioned earlier in the week that you should come by to meet his twin brother. Somehow, that had slipped your mind and now...

"Oh my God!! I am so sorry!" you screeched, voice going up an octave as your cheek flushed a bright red.

The boys shared a look before both burst out laughing, doubling over with hilarity as your cheeks burned.

"This has got to be the best mix up I've ever seen!" the real YangYang cackled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him.

[loveothislife]

Timothée Chalamet Is Still Learning How To Be A Leading Man

At 22, Chalamet has perfected the art of teenage ennui in films like 'Call Me By Your Name' and 'Lady Bird.' Now, he's looking for his next challenge.                  

Crystal Bell, 02/27/2018 (on Twitter) (Article)

Timothée Chalamet says he's bracing himself for the moment this all stops being fun — the press, the promotion, the cameras, the constant peach talk — but it's hard to believe him when he says it so endearingly. After all, Chalamet's youthful exuberance has become his trademark in recent months. That, and the hair. And the rapping. To imagine him as just another self-serious actor seems unnatural.

Though it's not like the ambitious young actor hasn't earned the right to take himself somewhat seriously. His mesmerizing performance as a precocious 17-year-old in the throes of first love in Luca Guadagnino's sumptuous queer drama, Call Me By Your Name, scored him rave reviews, a passionate internet following, and his first Oscar nomination. In fact, at 22, he's the youngest actor to receive an Academy Award nomination for Best Actor in 80 years. Then, that same year, he showed up in Greta Gerwig's confident solo directing debut, Lady Bird, as an arrogant teen heartbreaker with long hair and an affinity for Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States. With that, a star was born.

But Chalamet isn't just any star, the likes of which can be fleeting. Watching him agonize through the motions of love and self-discovery in Call Me By Your Name is like watching a young actor come into his own, each vulnerability laid bare for the audience to witness. By the end, their emotions are spent, but the excitement of witnessing the birth of something greater lingers long after Elio's tears have dried.

"I'm part of the anxious, cynical generation," Chalamet told MTV News during a press day for the film. "I have my fair-share of cynicism, that's hard to leave me, but I'm having so much fun talking about this movie. I keep waiting to be not feeling this, but I'm loving every second of it."

You can blame the natural cynicism on his New York upbringing. Born and raised in Hell's Kitchen, Chalamet seemed destined for a life in the arts thanks to his Jewish mother's passion for dance and his French father's insistence on piano lessons from a young age. (One of his father's biggest regrets, Chalamet said, was refusing piano lessons as a boy. "That's why I had piano lessons from eight to 12 even though I hated it.") Though, those skills later came in handy while filming Call Me By Your Name in northern Italy, as would his fluent French, perfected by summers spent with his family outside Lyon.

"The French part of my upbringing was always very much the anti-outgoing, 'the adults are having le café in the living room so go play outside' kind of thing, so to see it pay its dividends in a performative space is really confusing but gratifying to me," he said.

       Learning the craft        

Despite some early commercial work — as well as an appearance as a corpse in every New York actor's rite of passage, Law & Order — Chalamet wasn't all that passionate about acting until he got to LaGuardia High School. It was there, within the hallowed halls of the city's famed performing arts school, that Chalamet learned the craft, while trying out for school productions of Cabaret and Sweet Charity alongside classmate Ansel Elgort. It was here too, that rapping Lil Timmy Tim made his debut in the annual Rising Stars talent show.

"When I got to LaGuardia, I saw how seriously it could be taken, not for the sake of self-seriousness but rather out of respect and the lineage of who's been doing this," he said. (Famous LaGuardia alums include Robert De Niro, Sarah Paulson, Jennifer Aniston, and Nicki Minaj.) "Then there's this idea that, 'The harder I work at this thing, the better I get at it.' That was really satisfying on the set of Call Me By Your Name because we all worked so hard. To see people react to it viscerally, these are really important totems for young artists because it's so encouraging, and it makes you feel like these things aren't random."

"I wouldn't be acting without that school," he added. "I really believe that."

In his senior year, Chalamet landed a prominent role in Homeland's second season as Finn Walden, the vice president's annoying adolescent son who dated Sgt. Nick Brody's daughter, Dana. The decision to join the Emmy-winning Showtime series was a no-brainer for the young actor, even if it meant missing half of his senior year. "There's a little bit of trepidation when I think about it now because it wasn't necessarily beneficial to the conclusion of my education," he said. Still, he graduated LaGuardia on time in 2013.

       Learning to lead        

Chalamet spent that summer filming Christopher Nolan's sci-fi epic Interstellar, in which he starred as Matthew McConaughey's son, before enrolling at Columbia University in the fall. But Chalamet quickly realized that balancing academics with a burgeoning acting career was easier said than done, and after a quick stint at New York University's Gallatin School of Individualized Study, he quit school to pursue acting full-time. After a few indies and a dazzling performance in the off-Broadway production of Prodigal Son — his turn in the titular role caught the eye of both Guadagnino and Gerwig — Chalamet spent an idyllic spring in northern Italy. There, he learned Italian and took guitar and piano lessons, in order to prepare for the role of Elio Perlman in Call Me By Your Name, based on André Aciman's intimate coming-of-age novel of the same name.

"The book was such a window into a young person's experience in a way that those reads rarely are," Chalamet said, adding how it reminded him of one of his favorite books, Stephen Chbosky's The Perks of Being a Wallflower. "Anytime that you can play a non-surface young person, you have to leap at that opportunity."

And so he leapt at the chance to play a disaffected youth in Lady Bird. "You can tell it was someone contemporaneous who was telling the story and the fact that it was Greta, who made everything so specific to the degree that I could be playing a character who has to be antagonistic to some degree and yet has lines and a characterization that's so specific that you feel like he's a real human and not just a two-bit villain," he said. In describing Chalamet, Gerwig told GQ: "Imagine a young Christian Bale crossed with a young Daniel Day-Lewis, with a sprinkle of young Leonardo DiCaprio. Then raise them speaking French in Manhattan and give them a Mensa-level IQ and a love of hip-hop." ("I don't have a Mensa-level IQ," Chalamet smiled.)

Lady Bird also gave him the opportunity to work with his friend, and "neighbor of sorts," Lucas Hedges, a fellow actor known for playing complex, earnest young men. Having watched Hedges go through his own breakout year in 2016 with the release of Manchester By the Sea — in which the younger Hedges scored an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor for a role that Chalamet also auditioned for — Chalamet's crazy year has only brought them closer.

"Lucas and I have a very specific and loving friendship ... We spent about five to six years walking into casting offices together, giving each other dirty looks," he said. "I was in the library at NYU last fall and I'd be YouTubing all of this stuff of his, all of the press interviews, and I guess he was already my friend at that point but nonetheless you kind of yearn for the opportunity yourself. And now it's not like I'm just watching my buddy do it anymore, so he's been someone that I've been reaching out to and leaning on."

But don't call them the next generation of Hollywood stars — yet. "It feels a little premature because Trump's the president, and who knows if any of us will be around."

       Learning to take control        

In talking to Chalamet, one thing becomes clear: He's still learning. Every role presents a new challenge, a new opportunity for growth. Chalamet's next film, Felix Van Groeningen's Beautiful Boy, finds the actor battling drug addiction opposite Steve Carell, who plays his father in the family drama. "The Broken Circle Breakdown is just so heartbreaking and perfect," he said of Van Groeningen's previous film, "that the idea of not working with him when the opportunity presents itself is crazy." Later this year he'll start filming The King, helmed by David Michôd for Netflix, in which he'll play a young Henry V.

While his approach to director readings has changed since the release of Call Me By Your Name — "I used to have meetings with directors where I'd embarrassingly pitch myself the entire time," he said — what  he's looking for in projects remains the same: "It's director first, story second, role third."

"As you get to 25 or 26 and you age up and age out as a guy, I have three or four years left to play these younger — whatever that means — roles, and yet I really don't feel any pressure now to rush," he said. "There's a world where maybe I don't do anything for a while."

He's also still learning to navigate the heavy feeling that sets in after you say goodbye to a character. For Chalamet, letting go of Elio and his emotional turmoil, as well as the brotherly rapport he built with co-star Armie Hammer during those three months they spent bicycling around Crema and listening to Frank Ocean off set, left him feeling a bit empty.

"I don't like that period where it's over. You get good at being honest on camera on the days you don't even want to," he said. "And then you've got to face yourself when the movie ends and put yourself back together as a human being. There's something especially weird, too, because I'm forming myself as a human still."

It's this level of vulnerability and depth that could easily make Chalamet the DiCaprio of his generation. Not that he's thinking like that. To Timmy and his friends, he's just a kid from New York who loves rap music and watching movies and has approximately zero chill at all times.

"This movie's getting a certain type of acclaim that I feel like at a young age is rare and that leaves me with a sense of pressure in my head that I have to come off with a British accent or be very serious or thespian-like," he said. "I went to LaGuardia. I'm passionate about The Master the way I'm passionate about The Night of the Hunter the way I'm passionate about Army of Shadows the way I'm passionate about Y Tu Mamá También.

"But that [kid who raps] is me, the way falling out of a chair at New York Film Festival is me, too."

Maybe he's not such a cynic after all.

(Article by MTVNews on February 27, 2018)

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (February 24/2021) - “Mine-opoly”

Ponk and Sam have a date, Phil and Ranboo get into some heated bargaining with Sam for a get out of jail free card, and Tubbo and Ranboo get the idea to start a rival hotel across the street from Tommy’s: 

The beginnings of Bee ‘n’ Boo!

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

Tubbo

Philza

Skeppy

Awesamdude

Hannah Rose

Captain Puffy

Ranboo

---

- Ponk wants to make progress on the Oogway Shrine.

- After a dono asks about it, he says that he’s known Bad and Ant for a long time, and they would never sacrifice him to the Egg! So he decides that he is pro-Egg and not pro-Omelette.

- Ponk walks out onto the class over L’manhole and does a little bit of improvised lore, giving a speech:

Ponk: “Civilization...is just a brutal cycle of destruction and corruption, chat. You see, the only man who could run a civilization, died fighting for a civilization that he took under his wing. I’m sure he didn’t want to, chat, I’m sure he didn’t want to, y’know? But he did...and he lays rest over there.”

(He gestures to Schlatt’s Grave)

“Chat, that’s not the point. Think about this, chat, think about this...what happens after the Egg, huh? ...Sure, the Egg could be a common enemy. Or, a common friend. But when it’s gone, for...things never stay the same, things aren’t always the same forever, chat. Nothing lasts forever, okay? Out of corruption, friendship, you know what is born? ...New civilizations. And you know what happens in civilizations? Conflict, chat.” 

“What is going on, huh? The cycle will repeat itself. I’m sure Dream will get out of prison one day. I’m sure Tommy might not do something, who knows, chat? ...Maybe, one day, this conflict will get so large...that we’re pushed out of this land, and into a new one.”

- He then goes to continue work on the Oogway Shrine.

- Ponk also talks with Sam for a bit. He asks about whether the Badlands has a citizenship test, or if he could just marry and get a greencard.

- Ponk shows Sam what he’s been working on. 

- Sam and Ponk head to the Egg. Ponk asks if Sam has a hoe on him and says he needs Sam to collect a sample. Sam says he doesn’t want to, throwing Ponk the hoe. Ponk insists that it has to be Sam.

- They walk and talk. Ponk tells that Sam’s two prison guards put Ponk in the obsidian box, that they forgot about him there.

- Ponk and Sam exit the room. Ponk mentions that he took Fran for a walk. They continue to walk around and chat. Sam puts in a bunch of new names in the Prank Wars station.

- Ponk asks, doesn’t it upset Sam what Bad and Ant are doing with the Egg? Sam says he doesn’t love it, but he’ll let them do what they’re doing for now.

- They come back to the heart area and Sam runs to his house to get some things.

- Sam comes back with some pumpkin pie, cakes and a poppy for Ponk. He also brought drinks and the promise fish.

- Sam then gives Ponk his own trident!

- Sam leaves after that. Ponk reminds chat that it’s only the first date, and he has to be more smooth.

- Foolish continues work on HBomb’s savannah mansion.

- Phil works on home renovations.

- Awesamdude asks Phil if he’d take diamonds in return for iron. Phil has 22 iron blocks, but doesn’t need or want diamonds. Sam asks what Phil would want.

- Phil asks for access to the prison or plans, but all these requests are denied. Maybe a get out of jail free card? Sam thinks a bit, but ultimately decides no.

- Ranboo joins and tells Phil he has five stacks of iron blocks. Phil proposes the five stacks for the get out of jail free card. Call it “Mineopoly.” Sam is open to the idea, but wouldn’t have a get out of jail free card for any type of offense, necessarily.

- Ranboo worries about getting nothing out of this and Phil drops the offer to two stacks instead for his sake. Sam is still open to the deal, but worries about what the card would be used for, as Phil likes anarchy and might use it to ask for Dream to be let out.

- Phil says he won’t use it for Dream. Sam says he might have another deal, involving something he’s building that Phil might like to use: a massive creeper farm.

- Phil passes on the offer. He’s got withers. He makes the same offer from before again.

- Ranboo banters with Sam about the sandstone penis. Sam rejects the deal.

- Phil proposes a get out of free card for a non-main cell and a deal for three stacks. Sam says he could do it for five stacks. Phil says no.

- Sam then asks Ranboo. He could build Ranboo a memory machine in exchange for the iron. Ranboo says no, and asks why Sam would think he has the iron. Sam points out that Phil and Ranboo live together.

- Ranboo is insulted at the idea of stealing from Phil. Sam suggests he steal and just not write it down so that he doesn’t feel bad. Ranboo says he’d rather kill Sam than steal from Phil.

- Ranboo and Sam continue sassing each other and it gets a little heated.

Sam: If I’m old Philz is a geezer

Phil: I am wise beyond my years

Phil: Centuries are mere childsplay for me

Phil: I’ve seen many like you fall

Phil: You will not be the last

Sam: What was it like

Sam: Seeing everyone you loved die

Sam: Slowly as time moved on

Phil: Painful

Sam: I feel for you then

Phil: But not as painful as what I inflicted on their enemies

- Wilbur starts doing TTS in Phil’s stream. Oh no.

Sam: Ranboo I have just realized something

Ranboo: Yes

Sam: Ranboo agreed everyone he has ever loved is dead

Sam: Which means he does not love any of you

Sam: Live with that.

Ranboo: I know that

- Phil keeps working on his home renovations and deals with his chat (started by Wilbur, of course) requesting chippy money. 

- Ranboo and Tubbo work on getting the Bane o’ Bees back, but after seeing Tommy’s hotel, Tubbo gets the idea to make a rival hotel across the path.

- Phil’s murderous rampage against rabbits continues.

- Ranboo and Tubbo lay the scaffolding foundations for the hotel, which they decide to call Bee ‘n’ Boo! 

- Skeppy and Badboyhalo continue to work on Big Daddy Island together, working on their tiny little vacation house. 

- Sam does some grinding while watching Mediashares.

- Ranboo later continues to gather resources for the hotel.

- Puffy finds out about Ranboo and Tubbo’s hotel plans and decides she wants to join in with a hotel of her own! But she then decides to change plans to a fast food restaurant instead, laying the foundations for a McPuffy’s on the Prime Path near the two hotels.

- Puffy completes the glass covering over the ruins of L’manburg

- She puts a bunch of furnaces on top of Bad and Skeppy’s house

- She gets rid of the crafting table house and adds the tables to the furnace monstrosity

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Upcoming events remain the same.