#i think i'm going into cardiac arrest

[batbrainrot]

guys please tell me those batman #148 leaks of jason dying again are fake. tell me they're fake right fucking now i can't fucking do this shit right now i'm off my meds

[teamhawkeye]

Stringer went back to the emergency vet last night for another round of bloat

the good news is because they stitched his stomach in place a few weeks back with the first instance, it didn't twist so they just had to expel the gas accumulated in his stomach and intestines

the bad news is this is going to be a clear threat and issue for the remainder of his life, and figuring out how to prevent further repeats is the biggest concern now

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

I always thought HyunChan would be the first to get tattoos.

[chickenbyday]

Friendly reminder that if you're putting something off because it's not due till next week.

Monday does not count as next week.

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Ough I am going to stay awake for 12 hours tonight and complete all my assignments so that I might not die upon receiving my final grade for this class on Monday

[itneverendshere]

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)

warnings: future smut. paring: smart!reader x himbo!rafe; ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)

you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.

what’s the point? okay, your school has incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?

the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.

up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him.

the verdict? total pain in your fucking ass.

ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him.

outrageous, never done before.

for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.

wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.

not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.

“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“

“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”

“just soccer?”

you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”

"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"

you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.

“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."

you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”

pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.

“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.

“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."

you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.

your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.

“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"

“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“

you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”

“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”

you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”

your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."

you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"

pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”

your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”

rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.

“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”

“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”

you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.

pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”

you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”

pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”

your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.

"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"

he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”

“seriously?”

pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”

your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.

“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”

he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”

you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”

he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."

you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."

he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."

you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."

it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?

“the ball’s in your court.”

yeah it is.

truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.

at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.

so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.

but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.

you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.

you had pope for that.

which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.

a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.

taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.

the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.

you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.

there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.

“hey?”

“you look like shit, cameron.”

rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”

you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”

rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”

you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.

there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.

"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”

rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."

he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.

you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”

"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."

“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”

rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"

"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”

you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.

and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.

“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. “will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”

rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.

“why are you mad at me?”

you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.

"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"

he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”

rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

that’s it.

you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.

“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”

for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.

“and you want to fuck me?”

you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.

“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”

he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”

"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”

rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”

“yes or no.”

rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”

“okay. so win your next match and you will.”

he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”

“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”

"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”

you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."

rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."

“i figured.”

he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”

you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”

rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."

you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.

rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.

“just win the fucking match, cameron."

rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.

"consider it done."

[snowdrop-yoongi]

as a child i took swimming lessons and i routinely had to sit out of the pool because it felt like i was being stabbed repeatedly in the chest with a rusty dagger and also like my lungs were being ripped apart and i was just like, yeah this seems normal

[atenea585]

23 with Dean plss!!! 🫦

Oh, I know what you are looking for and I will give it to you😏

Prompts: “Is there some space left in that bathtub?”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+, smut, Dean being a menace, sex in the bathtub.

You were sitting in the bathtub, eyes closed. Dean had gone on a hunt and this was your only way to relax and not think about his well-being. That's why you always said goodbye to him with a kiss and a hug, wishing him luck and asking him to return safely. You knew he was a professional and knew how to handle himself, but the fear was still there.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't hear Dean open the bathroom door. The first thing he had done when he arrived was look for you and when he didn't find you, he went to the room you both shared. He saw the closed bathroom door and the light peeking out from underneath and a mischievous smile spread across his face. He placed his bag at the foot of the bed before walking to the door.

Your body was so relaxed that your sixth sense failed when Dean approached.

“Enjoying your time alone?”

You jumped, opening your eyes in surprise. The water in the tub swayed, some falling to the bathroom floor. You put a hand to your chest, feeling your heart racing.

“God, Dean! Why do you have to be so quiet? You almost gave me cardiac arrest.”

Dean just laughed and raised both hands in peace.

“I'm sorry, honey, didn't mean to.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, drawing Dean's gaze to that spot.

“So…” He looked over your body.

"So?"

You exchanged glances and he ran a hand over his mouth.

“Is there some space left in that bathtub?”

You smiled sideways and shrugged.

“I don't know, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe...”

He nodded and placed his hands on his hips.

“Well… We better find out.” He said before taking off his shoes along with his socks.

You laughed as he stepped into the tub still dressed, standing in front of you as the water rippled back and forth.

“What are you doin’?”

He took off his shirt and lowered himself until he was close to your face, keeping his balance by gripping the edges of the tub.

“You look beautiful like this, doll.”

He closed the short distance and kissed you, his tongue immediately intertwining with yours. You didn't waste your time, not after having him away. You ran your hands over his hard chest and lowered them to his belt, taking it off before unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them and his boxers down as far as you could.

Seconds later, he was inside you, water spilling around you as you moaned. Your nails scratching his back as his cock hit the inside of your pussy again and again, rubbing against your walls wonderfully.

“You feel so good, doll.” He rested his forehead on yours as he watched your expressions.

“I missed you.” You muttered.

“I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.”

And as it all built you felt comforted beneath him, most of your body submerged in the water, your legs around his hips and his breath on your face.

You wished it would last forever.

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[amomentsescape]

Yay request are back! I loved your yandere slasher sleepwalking one shot so may I request another sleepwalking reader scenario?

But instead of sleep escaping they just roam around like a drunk saying cute things like about how much they love them and silly things like how the strawberries are so obnoxious always saying they're the best fruit while the reader is just sitting in the fridge and random stuff like that?

And the Slasher just finds it aboustly adorble and fondly giggle at their antics while lovingly guiding them to bed?

😴😴😴🤤🤤🤤🥰🥰🥰

Slashers with Funny Sleepwalking! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: It's been a long time coming. I'm so sorry for the wait on this, and on anyone else's requests still sitting in my inbox. This was a joy to write though, so thank you!

Freddy Krueger

Who needs TV when Freddy has you?

You aren't really able to fully sleep in his world, so he comes to you most nights

He just flops into your still warm spot in bed and watches you stumble around the room

"Freeeedddy! I love you!" you coo over and over

And every time, he replies with a chuckle and an "I love you too"

You giggle and just stumble around some more, bumping into the same wall multiple times

When you finally come back to bed, you just fall right on top of him, not even noticing he's there

Michael Myers

You've woken up a few times in the morning to sore lips

(He duct taped them shut throughout the night)

He's not really home most of the time anyways, so it doesn't really matter

But when he is, the last thing he wants to deal with is you laughing and practically screaming at any object you bump into

He's quite literally locked you in the bedroom some nights so he doesn't have to hear your incessant babbling

"Michael, why is there glue on my cheek?"

He'll just shrug and walk off, tossing a broken glue stick in the trash

In his defense, the glue was nontoxic

Jason Voorhees

He loves to hear your random laughs and nonsensical talk of hysteria

You've grabbed onto his arm multiple times, using all of your strength to pull him outside to go on an "adventure"

"But, Jason! There's strawberry unicorns and feather fields out there!"

He honestly isn't sure if he should be laughing or feeling actively concerned for your wild sense of imagination

He always guides you lovingly back to bed while you have the cutest pout on your lips

"But it's time to explore!"

He just kisses your head and places the blanket back around you

It only takes a few seconds for you to fall peacefully back asleep again

Thomas Hewitt

You're going to make this man go into cardiac arrest

You're sleep talking is adorable, of course

But what isn't adorable is how you think each one of his carving knives is a toy doll

"This one is so pretty! What should we name her?" you asked all giddy

Thomas's smile turns to one of horror as he watches you swing his freshly sharpened butcher's knife around like it was flying

"Weeee!" you squealed happily, only to drop the knife two inches from your foot

Thomas about died

Since then, he makes it a point to lock you both in the bedroom each night

He'll happily indulge in your fantasy like dreams from there

Bubba Sawyer

He literally sets an alarm so he can see what made up conversation you're going to have each night

He'll follow you around, giggling with you about whatever you have to say

"And then I told him to go away cuz why would he say that my favorite fruit isn't his favorite fruit? Who does that? Oh, and then he went and..."

And Bubba just holds your hand and hums along with you as if he's listening

He has no idea what you're talking about most of the time, but hearing your sleepy voice is just so heartwarming, he can't help it

You always wonder why you wake up in the morning sounding like a dying frog

Brahms Heelshire

Oh, Brahms eats it up

You're constantly on a rampage going on and on about how much you love him and how much you need him

And this is exactly what he wants to hear

The moment he feels you stir in the middle of the night, he rolls over and holds you tight, making sure your sleeping actions don't cause you to leave the room

"Is there anything on your mind?" he asks softly

The moment you hear his voice, a big goofy grin spreads across your face

"Oh, Brahms! I love you soooo much. I wish I could just be here with you forever!"

Do you even know what you're saying? Of course not

But Brahms will do everything he can to believe it

Norman Bates

Norman is certainly guilty of staying up too late reading some new novel that has him engrossed

You've almost scared him a few times when he turns to look at you only to be met with your open eyes and droopy smile

"I like the bagels that jam," you say sweetly

Norman just looks at you in a confused smile

"Sure you do, honey"

You just smile and flop your head onto his arm

"Jam jam bagel. Jam jam bagel," you whisper-sing

Norman just chuckles quietly and goes back to his book, letting you continue your random sleepy talk

Billy Loomis

Billy just wakes up with a groan each time

"Babe, please just go to sleep"

"But the caterpillars! They're hiding..." you say, rolling all over the place

He replies with his usual grunt and rolls over, flopping right on top of you

"They're gone now! How did you do that?" you exclaim

He puts his hand over your mouth

"We do this every night," he mumbles into your neck

He's just met with a snore as you've already passed back out

"I don't know how I put up with you," he says with a slight chuckle

Stu Macher

He wakes up to the sound of yelling and fast thumping coming from the living room below

He all but trips on his way downstairs, worried something was wrong

Except he is simply met with you running around in a blanket, yelling about incoherent nonsense

"The snakes! The berries! The fridge!" followed by an immediate laugh

Stu stands there for a bit before finally chasing after you, swooping you up into his arms

"No! They got me! I'll never surrender!" you yell at the top of your lungs

"And I thought I was the loud one," he laughs, carrying your wiggling frame back upstairs to bed

Vincent Sinclair

He wakes up in the middle of the night to a soft voice singing

This would honestly be terrifying in any other context

But since this is almost a nightly occurrence by now, he just responds with a sigh

"Then the fruit tree grows, and the fruit starts to fall, and the-"

Vincent picks you up and tosses you back into bed

"I can fly now!" you yell, kicking your feet

He can't help but smile at your behavior

It might be two in the morning, but seeing you so goofy and free warms Vincent's heart

Just please don't sing so loud anymore, or else Vincent is going to get an earful from Bo the next morning

Bo Sinclair

He can hear you banging around in the kitchen

And he's about to storm out there to complain how it's 3 in the morning, and you shouldn't even be awake right now

But instead, he finds all the food on the floor as you try to wedge yourself inside the fridge

"Lava. There's lava everywhere," you're muttering

"Darlin' what in God's name are you-"

"Bo! You're on fire! Hurry! Hop in!" you yell, trying to make room for him in the cramped fridge

He just lets out a frustrated sigh

"Not tonight, sweetheart."

He quickly picks you and carries you back to the bedroom

"I didn't know you could walk on lava!"

[h4ndwr1tten]

toji fushiguro x sensitive/crybaby!reader

toji might be a little ooc ;)

you don't know why you agreed to this. why would you ever think this was a good idea? thanks to your decision, you're stuck on the couch, not ready to be jump-scared and faced with blood and violence for 2 hours straight.

that might not even be the worst part. the worst part is the fact that your doing this with your boyfriend, toji, who can sit through the most gruesome horror movies like they're nothing. you can already feel the teasing and humiliation coming.

tonight was movie night, and it was his turn to pick out a movie. you had a feeling he would be selecting something horrible, but he never forces you to pick another movie if he doesn't like it. he'll only make hateful comments, but watch it with you nonetheless. so it was only fair to do the same.

but as the movie begins, you're starting to regret not saying something. nothing hasn't even happened, but the screen is pitch black and slow, eery music plays in the background.

a scream comes out of nowhere and you jump and gasp, gripping onto toji's bicep for support.

an actual scene begins to play, but toji is laughing at you. you slap at his chest, muttering, "it's not funny."

"nothing even happened!"

fast forward 45 minutes later, you swear you're going into cardiac arrest. the movie has jump-scares every 5 minutes, someone stupid dies a violent death... you could go on. your heartbeat has significantly increased and you're trembling, bad. every time you flinch or jump, toji just laughs at you while patting your head or rubbing your back. your eyes burn every now and then, because why is it so realistic, and why is toji poking fun at you?

your clutching his hand with white knuckles, eyes glued to the screen. you think the plot's calmed down, but it hasn't.

the next scare shows up and lasts around a minute, or so it feels, and it's so extreme that you throw the blanket over yourself and hide your face in toji's chest, violently shaking.

"no... no more, please," you whimper into him, shaking your head. you really couldn't take it any more and had to surrender.

toji laughs a little but realizes your being serious. he feels you gripping onto him for dear life, along with his shirt growing damp. he pauses the movie.

"hey," he whispers, trying to coax you out of hiding, "hey, it's okay. it's alright, baby."

"no," you choke out a sob.

a small smile finds its way on his lips. he coos, "aww, was it too much for you, doll? too scary?"

you nod. "mhmm. i d-don't... can't handle h-horror."

you feel guilty and humiliated for crying, but your boyfriend doesn't seem to mind. he hoists you up and into his lap, allowing for him to comfort you better.

"i know, i know. shhh, you're okay, it's over," toji reassures you, soothingly rubbing your back as you continue to cry. "my poor baby got too scared?"

"i'm sorry," you pull your face out of his chest and wipe at it, continuing, "i know it—cough—it's your turn to p-pick, i'm sorr—"

"shh, you don't have to say sorry. i should've asked if you were okay with it first. i'm sorry, sweet girl."

he presses your head into the crook of his neck, his reassurance and comfort unceasing. he still chuckles here and there, but he's mostly helping you breathe and relax.

"let's watch a better movie, yeah?"

the rest of the night was spent binge-watching tinker bell and safely in toji's arms.

he flinches every now and then to scare you, and you have to smack his arm or chest while he snickers like a child.

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 5 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.5k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing here and there, presence of breadcrumbs if you look close enough, dark and mature themes related to quirk supremacy

a/n. i'm back! thank you for waiting patiently for this chapter. i haven't had the time to sit down and lock in on writing until yesterday, but i hope the wait is worth it! important plot points will be discussed in this chapter, so i hope this one is a fun one for y'all!

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

Sooner came later than you wished it would.

After that late-night conversation with Bakugou where he implicitly emboldened you to exhibit patience, you really made it a point to double down on the entire charade. You’ve attended as many activities as you could with the pro-hero, made a good impression on your fellow members, and even gone as far as constantly initiating affectionate behavior with Bakugou, to which he’s been getting better at responding.

So much so that he’s bordering dangerous.

There’s been that singular instance where he ushered you to the cafeteria after one of your quirk training sessions—like a gentleman—a big, firm hand planted on the small of your back. It wasn’t a huge gesture, but it was the first coming from him without prompting ever since you had to start acting like a couple. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t catch you off guard, but you played it off well enough, shooting him a grateful smile as you reached your usual table.

He only looked away, solemn.

You shrugged it off, thinking everyone had to start somewhere.

And while little moments like that have helped in taking your mind off of how routinary your days have been, the fact of the matter is: said patience is thinning.

You didn’t have to look far for proof either to know that Bakugou’s experiencing the same thing.

He’s been doing a decent job at regulating his emotions, as well as acting in front of everyone else to play his part, but when the trackers are long gone and cameras are sealed shut, and you’re in the privacy of your shared bedroom, that’s when he puts the mask down.

You could tell he’s been trying to remain kind—or at least, civil—with you, but there’s no denying the increased curtness of his responses, as well as how he’s been extra grumpy when roused in the mornings by either of the twins.

And you can’t blame him—you really can’t.

You yourself were just about to mentally give up and accept that you’re never going to get on with the mission at this rate when it comes on a regular evening.

You shoot up from where you were sprawled lazily across the mattress, alarmed. You glance at Bakugou, who’s already looking at you from the couch, that same caution you know is written all over your face etched on his.

Two weeks of living here, and the impending cardiac arrest that comes with a barrage of unexpected knocks still prove to be a probable cause of death for the both of you.

Wordlessly and without your behest, Bakugou grabs his pillow and blanket before throwing them beside you on the bed. You’re quick to adjust them into place as he slowly walks towards the door, another round of rapping resounding from the entryway.

Probably over the whole hammering thing just as much as you are, Bakugou promptly turns the knob and swings the slab of wood open, revealing a serious Omiru.

She speaks up almost instantly, but not without first glaring you both daggers. “The boss’s office. Now.”

And before she turns on her heel or either of you can ask any questions: “We’re gonna discuss the plan.”

The first thing you notice when you get to Masaki’s office a few minutes later is that for a large organization’s leader, the space is—just like its owner—remarkably…plain.

Similar to your small bedroom, the walls are colored off-white, the floor is dark hardwood, and there are very minimal decorations. Aside from the picture frames of what seems to be a family of four littered on his modestly sized desk, the room is pretty bare in terms of embellishments.

You don’t get to take a closer look at the photographs, though, because the second thing then catches your attention: how, rather than plastered leisurely on the sofa and conversing with each other, the three heads actually seem busy.

While, in fact, seated on the couch, Sayaka and Kouki are far from being relaxed. They’re sitting on the edge of their seats, hunched over what seems to be a…chart? You don’t get to peer at that, either, because their bodies are blocking the view.

So, instead, you let your gaze drift over to the main man himself, who is behind his workspace and has his back turned against you, fiddling with what you think is a push pin as he stares at the large corkboard in front of him.

“Bakugou and his girlfriend, sir,” Omiru announces before you. “Just as you requested.”

At the sound of her low voice, Masaki turns around, a pleasant expression on his face. “Welcome, you two. Please, go and grab a seat.”

You quickly scan the room for said seat, but there aren’t any more vacancies aside from the set of furniture the cyborg and the old man are occupying. So, albeit begrudgingly, you quietly follow Bakugou as he takes a few steps and sits down across the two, with you plopping yourself beside him.

The man next to you clears his throat.

“Is there any reason why we’re being summoned at,” Bakugou pauses, checking his watch, “9:27 PM?”

Playing it cool and not at all eager, huh?

You can do that as well.

Feigning ignorance, you look at Masaki as he rounds his desk and situates himself on the single sofa perpendicular to the four of you.

“Apologies for that,” the man starts diffidently. “I’ve been…busy with things at home, and now’s the only time I have to discuss this with you for the next few days.”

“Are you finally telling me what my role is?” asks Bakugou, manspreading as he brings an arm on top of the backrest behind you. “Because if you are, then fucking finally.”

“Yes,” answers the plain-looking man, “We’ll get to that. But before that, I’ll have to preface this meeting by making sure we’re all on the same page.”

“As you all know, our vision here in The Quirk Coalition is for a future where quirks are cultivated to their greatest potential and are regarded with the highest primacy in society. That means those who can wield their strong powers will take their rightful place in the community and reap the benefits of their gifts,” Masaki pauses, before looking at you and Bakugou. “Do you see where I’m going with this?”

You nod, pushing against the dread that’s creeping up your spine. You feel Bakugou stir beside you.

He continues.

“For the gifted to fully enjoy what they deserve, we’re going to have to remodel society to serve those with formidable quirks. After all, it’s them who serve as the pillars of our nation that’s constantly under the threat of malicious villains.”

Villains like you, you think to yourself. You bite your tongue.

Masaki then leans forward, a sinister look dawning on his features.

“That then, my dearest members, leaves no space for those who are weak and quirkless. As such, we’ve taken upon the difficult but noble duty to eliminate those who are such. This is necessary, so as to be able to rebuild a world that’s suited to the beauty that are quirks.”

Silence.

“…All this yappin’ yet I still don’t know what kinda action I’ll get?” spews Bakugou.

You mentally facepalm.

“Right,” retorts Masaki, “I appreciate the enthusiasm, Dynamight. You’ll be glad to know that you play an important role in the whole scheme of things.”

“We’ll essentially be using those bombs of yours, boy,” Kouki chimes in, catching the rest of your attention. “There was no way for us to procure munitions without alerting the government, so we’re going to have to use the ones you produce with your quirk.”

“That’s it?” Bakugou spits out, performing for his life. “You’re just gonna make me into a factory? Don’t I get to blow things up myself?”

“You can’t without exposing yourself,” comes Masaki’s level-headed reply. “That’s what our volunteering members are for. They’ll be carrying your bombs with you and infiltrate the venues.”

“Volunteers?” you can’t help but ask, voice small. You feel Bakugou’s eyes boring at the side of your face. “Are you saying they’re…?”

“Going to die in the line of duty, unfortunately, yes.”

“But aren’t they going to be detected?” you push, tamping down the panic that’s blooming in your gut. “Most places here in Japan have radars that can easily spot a grenade.”

Masaki smiles at you.

You feel goosebumps rise in its wake.

“I appreciate your concern, sweetheart, but we’ve made sure our targets are free of such devices.”

You let the confusion show on your features.

How can that be?

This has to be a joke, or this man has to be bluffing.

But why would he, if he needed the two of you—or at least, Bakugou—to execute his plan?

His choice of victims ought to be sheltered in secured skyscrapers or guard-riddled complexes, neither of which would tolerate the presence of explosives.

Unless…

You chance a glance past Masaki’s shoulder and onto the corkboard he was just studying a moment ago.

And when you do, you barely manage to fight back a terrified gasp as your eyes land on the rows of photographs that are pinned onto the panel.

Because staring right back at you are tens of faces of children.

“…Y/N?”

You snap to attention, turning to regard the concerned faces looking at you. “Huh?”

“You okay, babe?” comes Bakugou’s gruff voice, and you barely register the hand that slithers through the space between you to encase yours in a gentle hold.

You shift to meet the pro-hero in the eye. You find yourself glad you’re sitting down, because the sheer intensity of his gaze is enough to knock you off your feet.

“You zoned out there for a second,” he explains, shooting you a boyish smile, although it comes out slightly stilted.

“Yeah, no, I’m alright,” you try to laugh, “Sorry, I guess I’m just sleepy.”

“Are you sure she needs to be part of this conversation?” asks Kouki, who’s looking a bit too unsettled for your taste. “Masaki, I think you can send her back to their room if she needs to rest.”

“No,” you quickly interject, “I’m fine! I want to be here.”

You flash them the most sincere grin you can muster. “I want to help.”

“She’s the real deal,” Bakugou adds, to your relief. “Her quirk can make a huge difference in how successful your whole operation will be.”

On that note, and just like last time, you prepare yourself to utilize your quirk when none of them say anything for a beat. You maintain your carefree countenance as you wait for your go signal, but it never comes.

What comes, instead, is a decisive nod from Masaki.

“Very well, she can stay. But no more tangents, please. We need to get this ironed out.”

You nod eagerly. The man deems it enough for him to go on.

“Now that we’ve established Bakugou’s role in this entire enterprise, it’s high time we go through the actual plans.”

He gestures to the blueprint-sized chart on the coffee table in front of you. “As you can see here, we have ten circles. Each circle represents a target elementary school. One volunteer—”

Suicide bomber, you note in your head.

“—will be assigned to each school, armed with an ample number of bombs courtesy of Dynamight. Groups of at least six members of the organization will also be appointed per target to assist the volunteers and capture escapees if necessary. They’ll be teleported to their respective venues via their portkeys.”

Before you can even think of asking what the hell a portkey is, Kouki beats you to it.

“They’re devices,” he declares haughtily. “Magnetic devices, to be more precise.”

He holds out his thin wrists, which you now notice are adorned with silver bands made up of thin, rectangular pieces that stick to his wrinkly skin.

“Each member has a piece themselves, which pairs with the ones I have here,” he wiggles his hand for emphasis. “This is how we do mass teleportation.”

“Thank you, Kouki-san,” Masaki interrupts, before pointing again at the chart. “Now that we have that cleared up, I’d like to invite you to look at this portion.”

“While the rest of the members execute the plan at the ten locations, Kouki, Sayaka, and Bakugou will be in the headquarters overlooking the entire thing, while Y/N and I will be in the Prime Minister’s Office executing the final blow.”

A wave of terror instantly hits you just as Bakugou bristles in his seat.

“The fuck are you on, separating us?”

Despite the nausea pooling in your stomach, you still manage to register the contortion of Masaki’s features into a frown.

“You gave me the idea, Bakugou. You said your girlfriend here boosts one’s success rate, and I need all the help I can get to make sure I wipe out the entire office and elect a new set of like-minded officers.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” comes Bakugou’s hostile response. “She could get hurt, and I need to be there to protect her.”

If you weren’t in a literal life-or-death situation, you would’ve snorted at that.

But alas, you are, and the last thing you feel like doing right now is laughing.

So instead, you squeeze the hand that’s been holding yours since what has felt like forever ago, shrinking in yourself ever so slightly to seem afraid and to further sell the act.

You avert your gaze downwards, too, to make them feel like the alpha in the situation, but not before you catch a glimpse of Masaki sighing.

You hear it, too.

“What do you suggest we do then, huh, Dynamight?”

“You can station me where you and Y/N will be.” He eyes the robotic woman and the old geezer, “These two are more than capable of manning the HQ, anyway. Besides, I’m more useful out in the field.”

“But the risk of you getting caught—”

“I’m well-fucking-trained in stealth missions, if you really have to know,” Bakugou cuts him off. “Just let me know how I can contribute to your particular objective and I’ll do it. Without getting caught.”

He says it so confidently that even you’re convinced. But you don’t get to bask in his unfounded (up for debate, really) confidence, because he squeezes your hand this time before tightening his hold and turning to look straight at you.

You stare into each other’s eyes for what feels like an eternity before he delivers the finishing blow.

“…I just need to make sure she’s safe.”

A chuckle yanks you out of your daze, and you whip to see Masaki smiling at the two of you.

“Since when did the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight become such a loverboy?”

“None of your goddamn business,” comes the pro-hero’s snappy reply, which grants him another bark of laughter.

“I suppose not,” Masaki quips, and you find yourself wondering how this man can manage to joke around like this when he’s got arrays and arrays of photos of children he’s planning to murder behind him.

Despite the sheer absurdity of the situation and the undeniable thumping of your heart, you’re eventually able to school your face into a neutral expression and listen in to the rest of the meeting.

After adjusting Bakugou’s placement from headquarters to the Prime Minister’s Office alongside you and Masaki, the latter proceeded to discuss further arrangements for the two of you. Apparently, there will be three people assigned to each of you to monitor your movements during D-Day. Neither you nor Bakugou protested against it, aware that you’re already walking on thin ice after negotiating that you be together during the day of the attack.

Once he got that part done and over with, the leader went through a few more details about the bombings before adjourning the session altogether with a conclusive pat on the knees like he did during your first meeting.

And just like that, you’re sent back to your room.

Words aren’t exchanged between you and Bakugou as he retrieves his pillow and blanket from your space, carefully laying them out on the couch.

You don’t have to ask him if he’s feeling the same heaviness you’re carrying, the load evident in how he seems to be physically weighed down with the way he moves.

It’s not even just about the news of tens of children being the targets. It’s also the pressure to succeed in this mission with this new knowledge, even more so the looming reality that you’re currently leaning way closer toward failing it.

And you don’t know what takes over you—it may be that burden, or the palpable fear, or the very fact that you’ve been sharing more and more touches over the past two weeks—but you do it.

You stand up from where you’re seated on the edge of the bed and pull him by his wrist—the Bakugou who was just about to lie down on his makeshift bed—and into an embrace.

Bakugou instantly stiffens in your grasp, but he doesn’t say anything nor try to wriggle himself out. Stubborn and admittedly craving for a comforting hug yourself, you don’t let go of your hold around his torso, shifting to pat his back all the while.

“We can do this,” you whisper a few moments later, forehead against his firm chest.

And, as if your words are magic, you sense his body relax before you feel him wrap his arms around you.

You fight back the urge to bury the rest of your face into his chest and cry when he does so.

“‘Course we can, dumbass,” comes his uncharacteristically soft answer. “We don’t have a choice.”

Keeping your head high the following morning proved to be more difficult than you initially thought, let alone getting your ass out of the comfortable bed where you decided you could die then and there.

Bakugou himself didn’t look too excited when he got woken by the female twin at 8 AM sharp, that prominent frown deeply embedded in his mouth as he tossed his things onto the mattress just like clockwork.

And really, you were this close to asking him if he wanted to join you on your deathbed when your last bit of common sense reared its ugly head and metaphorically detroit-slapped you in the face.

Not now, bitch.

You had lives to save.

And so with that onerous knowledge, you hauled yourself out of bed, got ready in record time, and trudged beside Bakugou down to the mess hall.

You try to suppress the disappointment that lurches to your throat when you spot a small group of 20-somethings eating at the far end of your favorite table. You were looking forward to some peace and quiet, at least this morning after the debacle from last night, but apparently, that’s not happening.

You know better than to move to another spot, though, knowing all too well that such an action will make you seem snobbish and ruin the amiable reputation you’ve been trying to build for yourself. And so with a heavy heart, you head there with your full tray in tow and seat yourself beside Bakugou, just like how you’ve always had since Day 1.

And the moment you do, that’s when you hear it.

“…Have you heard?” surfaces an enticing voice that must belong to one of the women you clocked before sitting down. “Word’s spreading outside about the attack.”

“Seriously?” comes a man’s voice this time. “What about it?”

“Not much, just that there’s an impending one. But get this,” she pauses, and drops her volume enough that you have to strain to hear the next part.

“There…rumors…#2…involved.”

Your body moves before your brain can catch up—you whip to look at Bakugou beside you, whose eyes are already wide as saucers when you meet his gaze. Without a word, the both of you quickly move to demolish the food in front of you, and within a matter of minutes, you’re up and clearing your dishes by the kitchen area, before stomping toward the leader’s office.

Bakugou doesn’t even bother to knock on the door, opting to unceremoniously barge into the room instead.

“What the—”

“We’ve overheard that rumors are circulating about the attack and my involvement,” Bakugou announces.

Masaki, who’s looking stunned from where he’s seated on his office chair, tosses you a perplexed look. “What?”

“Let us out for one day,” Bakugou swings out of nowhere you’d almost get whiplash if you didn’t stop yourself from gawking at him at the last minute.

The man frowns. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Bakugou.”

“Let the two of us be seen out for a day,” Bakugou expounds, although not by much.

Though, that seems to be enough for you, because only then do you get it.

Dating scandals have always been the rumor mill’s favorite, after all.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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[anantaru]

— telling him “we need to talk”

including childe, gorou, alhaitham, scaramouche x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, childe's part is a bit sad, we‘re evil, they're panicking

— childe

"oh! and one last thing." you pause, luring a deep gulp of air through your snagged throat, "can you come over tonight? we need to talk."

correspondingly, childe groggily rubbed his eyes and frowned at the wearisome remembrance of your previous accursed encounter— it just couldn't leave him alone, that constricted gruff of panic.

the words you had spoken out earlier were continuing to peskily repeat themselves through his psyche, again and again— like a virus progressively taking over its host— and it did, wretchedly slow, even after he finished a couple more salient tasks of his work.

did something happen between you both? or did he unintentionally do something he should be aware of but isn't?

nowadays, he had been abundantly occupied with carrying on the crucial duties as the eleventh fatui harbinger, essentially the befalling of the various nations all around teyvat in search of the enigmatic gnosis.

consequently, ajax would go on about balancing his private life together with his work in a notably strategic way. He had always made it a habit to keep the serious out of your relationship, though now he was debating wether or not that was your last straw.

because you see, ajax was convinced you'd actually dump him tonight.

so, well, under those circumstances, yeah, it's fine, he's fine, or wasn't he? after all he couldn't force you to stay, maybe, he's joking, perhaps.

he gave himself a second to rewind his rational thinking in search of a breakout from this state of affairs but instead, a rising silence befell his mind and he couldn't concentrate for the life of him.

by that means, childe was inordinately nervous and a dizzying sense of anxiety had been manifesting from inside out— his breathing too, had become nimble, he felt as if someone had been suddenly suffocating him with a giant plastic bag over his head.

and then presently, there he was.

without a way to escape he was soon trapped in between the door and your body when he closed it shut behind him. You had made him follow you to the living room— your face, without a doubt, undisturbed and calculative which didn't make the appalling situation any better, due to this action his dreadful judgment prevailed over him much more unyielding.

he began to hatch a plot; because if he manipulates his emotions good enough while bamboozling himself over and over that he was in fact, okay, he'll maybe not suffer from an integral cardiac arrest after this blood curdling conversation.

for a brief period of time childe had been wholly iced to the ground, awaiting your voice. You turned around to face him, silence, a long and grueling five seconds of unbroken staring when you in confusion, pucker your brows together, "what's with you?"

he was overcome by a flat sense of both irritation and surprise at how casual you sounded, "w— what?" childe didn't mean to stutter out his words like that, but his voice was still distressfully stricken.

"you seem sick." you note, directly holding your hand towards his face to keep it on top of his forehead, a flicker of concern eroding inwardly, childe winced at that and he bleeds into your touch, it was alleviating and he missed it, "no fever."

your apprehensive tone faded when you hastened to follow up your words, "i'm glad, because there's this thing i need your help with." you press yourself into his body, "it's a present for a family member." with your lips instantly split into a humane smile, you settled to tease him, ruffling his hair a bit.

childe thought this had to be some kind of metaphysical fantasy he had been trapped in the moment he entered your home, could he be hallucinating or did dottore really mix something into his orange juice earlier?

one of the first couple skills he had learned in the fatui was to always keep a clear head, yet right now he didn't have the time to even recompose himself nor did he realize that he‘s been standing in front of you without moving an inch— it‘s as if he was currently deciphering a difficult secret riddle in his mind and wholly forgot about your presence.

ultimately, you had caught up on the panic and the unintentional perpetual twitch in his eyes, "hey." a sigh of relief, so soft yet it brought him to tears, he felt your hand shelter his once more, the tone on his face grew a bit lower and delicate— a little more allayed.

without trying to conceal his worry now, childe responds clearly to you, "i thought i did something." he blurted out— barely, his throat was still clenched and a continuing dread thudded in his heart.

his eyes widened and a light bead of sweat formed just above his browbone. The thought that you might‘ve broken up with him vehemently churned and wrecked a deep havoc in his gut, it almost had him see white of terror.

you saw the glint of fear— the panic, and closed the distance of your bodies, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him close, "you didn‘t." the sound of your voice seized his heart and he breathed out a shaking heave.

"because you‘re perfect to me."

as an instinctive counter, his eyes squinted a little of a bigger smile and a shadow of boundless solace stamped in his veins. effectively, he can breathe easily now— be that as it may but for childe to purely envision a skid second without you by his side hurt him so much, if the control of his body hadn't been as well trained by him as it was, he'd tremble into your enfold.

"i‘m sorry." you patted his warm, rosy cheek with a kiss, "i didn't mean to make you feel this way." the tepidity of your eyes felt like the sun buzzing on a sweet summer day, "don't apologize." he stated and swallowed hard, returning your hug.

"i love you." he's leaning his face against your head and closed his eyes shut, "i love you too, ajax." a tear— just one, was then glissading down his cheek at your well spoken words, .

— gorou

"gorou, we need to talk, i finally made up my mind."

talk about what? the great weather on watasumi island?

meanwhile gorou nearly lost what little self restraint he had left in his soul— his right ear repeatedly twitching and serving as a bodily response. However, the way he had acknowledged the teeny tiny letter in his hand in the first place— with the disreputable words frumpily scrabbled on top of it with a black pencil, was largely concerning, he realized.

gorou didn't move for a couple seconds and remained by his own company— in silence, now his eyes grew a tone darker, because he was beginning to feel sick to his stomach, precisely the lower area, a stormy tornado of panic exuberantly nagging on the base of his spine.

what was it that he did because there must've been something he had to mess up if you're handling the situation in that precise way.

fundamentally speaking, (and that was the most irritating component in this whole situation) for you, to not say it out right away but rather have a hand written letter sent over to his office— it's ambiguous, everything turned out to be like a complete mess and he was a part of it.

to say he was both bewildered and crushed combined into one heavy ball of perplexing emotions was a restrained statement. Because truthfully, he was on the brink of a mental breakdown, his face was now hiding in his palms while he leaned further into the desk.

"it's over." he's talking under his own breathing, "that must be the case!"

if you have figured out one thing about your boyfriend— it was that he had a habit of talking to himself whenever he was pressurized by an crucial mission or something was simply bothering him.

he (himself) stated that it was an eminent way of analyzing his scattered thoughts and bring down all meaningless components should there be any at hand.

having said that, you would mentally applaud him because gorou was a genius, it was a great way— while not the one that would be of any need to him right now.

he decided to go all out and search for you— from his perspective, there wasn't any other way. Gorou had previously decoded that you must've been at your home by now, his work wasn't far off anyways so he could show up any time— yet unannounced but this was an emergency, he noted.

for gorou there wasn't anything more important than his relationship with you, it was a part he'd protect vigorously, yet if you were to dump him tonight, that's a different story because then he wouldn't know what to do nor how to retaliate.

considering that, he had been vastly comfortable with you to the point that he simply cannot envision a life without you by this side.

so, yes, maybe that's why he was so tense and anxious moving forward to your home. Little does he realize it wasn't quite how he had imagined it because truth was, gorou didn't do anything wrong.

you see, for a while now, you had been greatly pondering with the thought on your living situation, after all, you had been a couple for a long time and moving in together was the next designated step to be taken.

resultantly you had talked about this with gorou, yet only once and the timing wasn't the best either. If it was for him, he had long since forgotten it, in any other occasion he was a great listener and infallibly did his best to memorize whatever important topic you had to say to him.

but as an automatic result of the miscommunication taking place, gorou had visualized how he thought the conversation would end up, it being with you dumping him for good.

on the other side of the coin there was you, so very happy you could barely wait to tell him that you want to finally approach the next step and move in together.

the moment you let him into your home, you, as always, you greeted him with a kind hug which caught him completely off guard, obviously he wasn't expecting it. You knew your boyfriend very much, so when you saw him in the composition he was currently in, you almost gasped out loud by the terror.

his eyes were sunken and he seemed a bit pale, his ears too, were pointing downwards and that frown on him— together with his ragged breathing made you realize that something wasn't on their designated place. "hey." you approach him gently, "did something happen at work?"

his muscles stiffed and he thought about the words he had planned out to say, repeatedly they had thudded into his skull but nothing arose off his throat. You watched him closely and his gaze softened when you decided to hug him once more, this time with your lips ghosting over his ears, "it's okay, you're home now gorou."

"home?" granted, he couldn't place any fault on you for his own too quick thinking or his habits of jumping to conclusion when it came to this relationship, gorou wasn't the most experienced in that peculiar department after all. "our— our home?!"

"yes!" you're quick to show your happiness to him, your eyes glowing with brilliant shades of delight.

"that's what i wanted to talk about, i was busy preparing everything so Ii couldn't visit you in person." you fleetly pecked his cheek, "i hope it was okay to send a letter instead."

gorou was stunned— bewildered, he thought his ears fell off. "wait." he's taking both of your hands in his to make you stare at him, "this it what you wanted to talk about all along?" your brow ploddingly arose at his way of speech, because you were still very much clueless about it all.

"what did you think i was going to say?" at this rate, your conversation would never end anytime soon. gorou fidgetily scratched his neck before he chirped his words out in a blabbering draw no one but you was able to discern.

"oh nothing special, ijustthoughtyourebreakingupwithme." you were rendered speechless— lost of words and you placed a mental sticker in the deepest ends of your brain to get better at spelling things out more clear.

your eyes formed of sadness and you felt bad, trying to soothe your boyfriend in your own ways, "why would i?" you humorously squeezed his cheeks in a strive to delete his troubled expression, smiling in a loving kind, "i'd never do that, ever."

— alhaitham

beyond the shadow of a doubt, becoming the acting grand sage was an astonishingly tedious task for alhaitham to take— and he did not look forward to it.

unquestionably it was apparent that he wouldn't potentially have as much time for you as he previously had when he was the akademiya's renowned scribe. In spite of his new occupation, you undeniably had supported him throughout the first stages as much as you could.

but, lets say, you had felt a bit neglected lately— or to state said emotion in a contrasting light, you were in need of some much required attention from your boyfriend, plain and simple. Of course— and this usually goes without saying but it's not like alhaitham did it on purpose because, by all means, he didn't.

there wasn't anything he'd like to do as much as leisurely resting on his cozy bed with you by his side, cushily enclosed in your arms while you play with his hair and talking about all kinds of topics at hand.

with it becoming worse, it followed that he rarely had time to come over for dinner anymore, sure, you had your own duties to be taken care of but you missed him so so dearly and weren't sure how else to get him to move his unwavering attention from his work to your sweet frame again.

though your approach seemed a bit evil, you realized. but wasn't your creative thinking one of the reasons alhaitham had fallen in love with you in the first place?

to accurately get your plan in motion, you had sent an overly prettily framed letter to his new office— you added your favorite symbols to the paper and used your best-loved colors to have it cross your boyfriends keen eyes the second it would land on his desk.

under those circumstances you had impatiently began to wait at your place for him to get to you. And he did see your letter glowing in midst all the important papers on his desk, bedazzled by your most dearest decorations.

alhaitham slanted his head a bit to the left when he caught a glimpse of it eventually— he was a bit puzzled at first because whenever you did require his cooperation you'd just show up in person. But then again, in recent times he had his hands full of work and you arguably wouldn't even meet him to begin with.

his fingers gingerly opened the fine letter to scrutinize the words at hand, "we need to talk, it's about us."

he was taken aback, very, and caught off balance. He didn't view you as someone who'd send cryptic messages like that one in particular. Alhaitham distressfully rubbed his eyes and placed the letter on his desk above all the other workloads he had gotten delivered today.

upon that, he leaned into the broad armchair and careened his head back, closing his eyes. In that peculiar state he might potentially arrange and categorize his thoughts more coherent. The last thing he would've wanted now was to have your relationship suffer because of his current job.

first, it's dreary, second, it would throw him off completely.

while alhaitham had a dozen more work to finish before he could routinely head home, he decided to go to your place instead to talk it out. In his opinion, pushing back a much needed conversation would only elude his rational thinking skills by a huge mountain of precious time. it would've been obtuse for him to not handle this.

deep wrinkles were forming around his brows when he knocked on your door, his eyes fixated with worry but also irritation. On the flip side alhaitham was also concerned that something might've happened to you without him being aware of it.

another knock and you had lastly opened the door to your home, with a pseudo sad frown on your lips, maybe that was your ticket to great evilness because you did feel a bit wicked for tricking your poor, overworked boyfriend like that.

he doesn't say much, a dreadful silence of a couple minutes had surrounded the atmosphere and the inches in between your frames. A direct steady approach hadn't been found before he decided to speak at last, though heedful. "i saw your letter." he remarked through a clenched jaw.

"you did?" you slowly turned around and simulated to shuffle something out of a drawer in your kitchen— pretending to make a cup of tea for you both. "yes, i did." alhaitham might be many things, but he wasn't stupid, he knew something wasn't adding up, at all.

at first note, there was your body responses, despite your d class acting skills you were still showing emotions that weren't classified as sad nor angered. Second, it felt as if you didn't even know what to say, more thoroughly did you appear to just like him being here because why else were you settling a cup of tea and would you look at this, a few pastries he was sure were freshly bought.

"do you want me to applaud to you?" his voice was dry but despite that it harvested a glint of humor, "for this performance, i mean."

you bit down on the mushy insides of your cheeks before turning around, "i don't know what you're talking about." there you stood with an empty cup in your hand when he resoluted to walk towards you, haltering himself when he reached your body. "you wanted to talk." his hand finds your cheek and banteringly nudges it, "then talk."

you avert your gaze to recollect your thinking, because truthfully you did not expect him to catch onto it that fast— plus, you could also say you didn't think too far ahead into the future as on what to do once he's actually there.

"okay, okay." you dramatically throw your hands in the air, "i pretended to be mad so you'd show up." silence, "because i missed you." before you could hide the embarrassment with your hands alhaitham had swiftly bolstered one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his chest, "I know."

"can you blame me though?" you tried to explain yourself through your shy smiles which he had found so so very adorable, "you're never home." you lay your cheek against his warm chest to reply with a cuddle back and alhaitham sighed out when he beheld your distressfulness— how much he longed for his calm days to return.

"i know." he idly pawed his hand over your spine, "i can't wait to be the scribe again." you quietly shake with laugher at his words, the sides of your lips creasing up, "though i have to admit." you suddenly state while blinking up into his multi colored eyes, "saying my boyfriend is the grand sage doesn't sound that bad."

he's amusingly shook his head and found himself deeply connected in your arms— though being wary of the entire settling of today, alhaitham's sadness resigned back into him, he realizing that the last time he had held you just like this had have been a long time ago.

for this, he couldn't wait to get back to his usual, comfortable life with you again because no matter which position he'd take in the akademiya, he'd never want to place you second under it because it was you who truly gave new meaning to his life.

— scaramouche

working in the shadows had been something scaramouche was practicing his entire life, he‘s as fast-moving as the wind, a split second and he was gone, poof, unforeseen and brief.

substantially, you weren‘t quite sure what made you reach the conclusion to perpetually poke your finger into his hardiness, over and over— to sweetly aggravate him because it’s fun. especially when he had gotten back to you after a long, monotonous day full of his duties to fulfill.

on the assumption that nothing was wrong, kuni, as in any other circumstance, had saddled back into the couch with you next to him— actively observing how you’re casually paging through a couple letters in your hand.

"hey." in the pitch of his voice alone you were capable to discern the fatigue in his body— he must‘ve been especially hard working tonight.

"put the book away." undoubtedly, it was that time of the day again, scaramouche required your unwavering attention because if you aren't handing it over to him right this second, he'd become actually ballistic and sullen, waiting until you notice.

"hm." you do not say much, pretending to have something critical crossing your current state of mind, "what do you mean hm?" he's peeved by your behavior— despite that it piqued his interest.

you evidently weren't drained or disgruntled by his presence, at least he thought you weren't, "is this more important than i am?" scaramouche loftily pointed towards the book in your hand which you then, meteorically closed.

"there is something—" you do not dare to look into his permeating eyes, being panicky stricken you might blow your cover in front of him. Kuni had a way of heeding every so little change in both the articulation in your voice and face.

"there is something we need to talk about— about us."

scaramouche didn't buy it, not even once, you were too perceptible and easy to detect.

what was there to talk about when nothing happened, in the morning you seemed fine, you even gave him a goodbye kiss when he left for work. "really now?" he's sharpening his eyes on you, his chin held up high to throw you off the high in your conversation and most pivotally, to make you all jittery so you‘d eventually slip up.

"yes." you outstandingly flumped back into the velvety cushions of your couch, "we're just so different." - "no we're not." he was right there to cut you off, giving you no room to breathe while also slouching closer to your frame so you‘d look at him.

without beating around the bush, scaramouche decided to play this game with you, though in his eyes, he was way better at this than you could ever be, "but we are." now coming across at him through distinct eyes, you sealed your lips together so you wouldn‘t suddenly burst out laughing.

in a wink of an eye he had edged himself so near to you— with only being a mere couple inches away from banging your heads together, "are you playing games again?" he really wanted to know it now, fundamentally, scaramouche was captivated by this— he never loses and this side of yours would never bore him, not even once.

"maybe." you blurt out bluntly, affectionately wiggling the tip of your nose against his own, "you're a menace." he rolls his eyes and pulls away. with how swift you were to follow him, you put your legs over his lap so you‘d be dotingly enclosed into one another. "don't do that again."

sweet scaramouche— what he didn't show you was that he in actuality shared a concern in result of your behavior. All things considered he was aware you were kidding to rally him up. He thinks your skills were amateurish at best, whimsical, he hoped you were practicing your acting to once really catch him off guard.

"it's so fun though." you brusquely admitted to him with a candid smile while venturing to case your arms around his neck.

if only he wasn‘t so utterly compelled by you he‘d actually be mad for once, yet he only puffs out a warm heave, "i'll get you back for this."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[vampyresovereign]

pooka..pooka..!!! do Leona dating HEADCANONS!

*rubs your feet*

your wish is my command pooka doodle... -isa<3

DATING LEONA KINGSCHOLAR HEADCANONS

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x GN!Reader Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Quick Synopsis: just a bunch of general headcanons of what leona would be like in a relationship + little drabbles in between Tags: Use of Y/N, use of "herbivore" nickname, reader is not Yuu, no specific physical description of reader, reader is a Night Raven student

HOW YOU TWO WOULD MEET

From the way the books/vignettes portray him, I'm going to be real and say I see Leona as an introvert, maybe go as far to say he's kind of a shut in. OBVIOUSLY not as much as Idia, but he doesn't really strike me as someone who would be actively looking for love like that (at first.) definitely not the type to do the cliche "locking eyes with object of affection for the first time and just falling head over heels" shtick. to me, it seems like he's just tuning everything out until he eventually graduates, which is why for you to be even considered, you'd have to be a constant, like someone he's always getting partnered with in classes or a mutual friend. sorry guys.. no hallway crushes here.

In all honesty, you were less than ecstatic when Crewel had decided to partner you with your fellow classmate, Leona Kingscholar.

He had never done anything to you personally to give you a negative impression of him, but it was just his demeanor and how he carried himself around the general public. Not speaking in class, you could barely recall his voice, and constantly maintaining that annoyed scowl.. When he was awake.

Did you mention that he had no shame about sleeping in class?

He just.. intimidated you. When it was about time to shift to your station with Leona, you grabbed your things and awkwardly sat down in the chair next to him. He was leaning back on the chair, eyes closed, ears twitching slightly to let you know he sensed your presence.

Whatever little assignment you two had to do would last a week at most, maybe even shorter than that, so Leona was under the impression he wouldn't have to care about you that much.

Little did he know.

-

CONFESSION HEADCANONS

One thing about Leona is that the man has a TRUCKLOAD of pride inside of him. Though, he's not stupid. He watched Falena fall in love with his future wife, he's seen old friends get into relationships. He is no stranger to love. When he realizes he has feelings for you, his first instinct would be to gaslight himself and try to deny it, especially if you were someone smaller or more sensitive than him. He didn't come to Night Raven to fall in love, especially with someone like you. If anything, it should be the other way around (haaah.) It wasn't even his choice to be on campus to begin with. However, the more he thinks about it, the more he tries to ignore it whilst spending time with you, the more unbearable it becomes to keep his feelings bottled up. The first person he confides in is Ruggie, but not with a direct approach. He'd ask him little one off questions, like "What would you do if _______" or "If you had a partner would ________." Ruggie would most definitely be confused at first, wondering why Leona, who was never once interested in romance was suddenly asking for his opinions on the topic, but Ruggie is smart. He'd see you two hanging out frequently, put the pieces together, and absolutely bombard Leona with questions and jokes. Essentially, Ruggie suggests that the only solution to this "annoyance" as Leona puts it, is for him to grow some balls and tell you how he feels himself. That has Leona grumbling. Expressing your feelings means being vulnerable with someone, something Leona would not be caught dead doing. This isn't fair, where did all his confidence go? If he looked at you any longer, he guessed he going to go into cardiac arrest from the way his heart pounded in his ribcage, like a ticking time-bomb.

"Hey, is everything okay? You said you wanted to talk," You exclaimed.

Leona scratched his head, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds before focusing back on you and your concerned expression. This was embarrassing. There were worse things he hadn't hesitated to say to other people before, but asking you out was of course the thing that had him fumbling like an idiot.

"So.. Remember that movie trailer you kept yappin' about?"

"Of course I do, I've wanted to see it for a while."

"Well, you're in luck. I bought us tickets to go see it Friday night, if you want."

Your lips curled into a small smile, and you began to look genuinely excited. "Really? That's actually so cool of you!"

"Mhm. But by us, I mean just us."

You raised an eyebrow. "...Are you asking me out?"

A light red tint painted his cheeks, indicating to you that you had absolutely hit the nail on his intentions.

"Herbivore, do you want to or not?" He quipped, suddenly getting defensive.

"Alright, alright, sure. It's a date."

-

ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

After that little movie date, it didn't have to be said, but both of you knew that the feeling was mutual. It wouldn't take long for Leona to start referring to you as his partner, and vice-versa. He wouldn't act much differently than he did when you two were "just friends," but he'd definitely be more territorial, teasing, and affectionate in public. I imagine him to be kind of annoying too, walking up to you with your friends and greeting you by saying some shit like "WSG LIL BRO!" and then proceeding to headlock + give you a noogie in front of them. 😭😭 now.. where did all this sudden energy come from? A few months ago, Ruggie remembered Leona never wanting to get out of bed, avoiding classwork and avoiding people in general if he didn't have to talk to them. But when the two of you start dating, he starts to care a lot more about things he considered insignificant. He suddenly starts to notice how frizzy his hair gets over the course of the day, and brushes it periodically so he'll look good when he meets you after your classes. He puts on a nicer smelling cologne. He starts to take notice of his spending habits. Yeah sure, he's a prince, he got mad money, but at the same time, the numbers are starting to go down because he bought you flowers, expensive jewelry, and more clothes all in one week. He also makes an effort to get to know your friends and interests. It's not like he didn't care much before, but he really likes to listen to your voice and hear you talk. He could do it for hours, falling asleep to it and waking up to it. Speaking of falling asleep, yes cuddling is involved in this relationship. He's lowkey a bad influence. You've gotten in trouble multiple times because you've asked to use the bathroom, using the hall pass as an excuse to roam around in the botanical gardens until you find him. He ALWAYS convinces you to stay with him and take a nap, resulting in you oversleeping and getting detention. But it's aight. Y'all are in detention together. In conclusion, mans is head over heels for you. Screw his head for this sudden vulnerability, and screw you for keeping him around, making him fall deeper everyday.

DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO GET THE FUCKING WEIRD SMALL TEXT WITH RANDOM BIG LETTERS GLITCH OFF IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT BUT ITS PISSING ME OFF -isa<3

[seospicybin]

ON TOUR.

PART I: SOUNDCHECK.

Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (f,a)

Chapters: II. OPENING ACT / III. UNPLUGGED / IV. HIDDEN TRACK

Synopsis: Your best friend, Felix, is in a rock band and he takes you to join him on tour as the band's photographer. On the road, you learn how to deal with his bandmate, Hyunjin, who's not very welcoming of you . (10,2k words)

Author's note: The smut will not be taking place in the first part pls be patient because good things come to those who waits :)

Click here for ON TOUR playlist.

Content warning: mentioned vomiting.

A man is standing by the door of your apartment.

You take a few steps down the stairs to hide because he seems suspicious. He's dressed in all black with the hoodie pulled over his head, casting a dark shadow over his face and making it hard for you to identify him.

If that was someone you know, he would call you and let you know that he's outside your apartment. To add to your suspicion, he starts pacing back and forth by the door of your apartment.

You duck to get out of his sight and you shouldn't be afraid because you are in your apartment building, he's trespassing, and you have the rights to send him away.

As a precaution, you rummage inside your bag for your keys and tuck one between your fingers as a weapon. It's not the best form of self-defense but just in case it's not working, all you have to do is scream loud enough for your neighbors to hear you.

You take cautious steps up the stairs and approach the mysterious man who has his back facing you. You swallow air as your heart starts beating so fast that you feel like having a cardiac arrest.

The sound of his phone ringing interrupted the suspenseful moment and the man picks it up immediately, "Yeah, I don't think she's home. Do you..."

Wait, you know this voice but you can't pinpoint who it belongs to. It's like listening to an old song and trying to guess who sang it.

The hand that is raised and ready to attack slowly drops to your side as you rake your brain and try to remember.

The man suddenly turns around and in reflex, your hand raises to attack him again to only abruptly stop once you see his face.

"Whoa! Whoa! Calm down!" He says with his hands up.

Then you recognize the freckles, the small mouth, the nose, and his deep voice that you finally remember who it belongs to.

"Felix?" You ask in disbelief.

"Yeah, it's me!" He says with his hands still raised and a horrified look on his face.

You miss him so much your eyes teared up that you finally get to see him in the flesh.

"Were you about to punch me?" He asks, eyeing the key between your knuckles.

You cry-laughing in response, "And I'm still going to punch you," you say.

You proceed with your plan, playfully punching him in the chest, "You said you would never forget me when you become famous," you say between your exhausted grunts.

You gently push him away, sending him staggering backward, "you lied to me," you say with your index finger pointed right at him.

He laughs and walks up to you again, "Hey, come on! That's why I'm here," he says, opening his arms to welcome you to hug him.

It's useless to try to act upset when you're immensely happy to see him again, the frown on your face gradually turns into a smile.

"I miss you," he says, being the one to hug you first.

You cave in almost instantly and hug him back, letting the memories from the teen years you spent together flood your head like a fast-paced montage. You hug him as someone who misses her best friend would, tightly and warmly. What is there left to do than letting him know it with words?

"I miss you," you say back, saying it makes it real that you feel a sting in your heart.

-

"How did you know where I live?"

You take two cans of beer out of the fridge and push the fridge door close with your hips.

Felix is looking at the wall covered with photographs you took from your years of studying photography abroad.

"Your mom told my mom and my mom told me," he walks to the sofa to sit next to you, taking one of the beer cans from you.

"Thanks," he mutters, doesn't waste a second to open it.

You also take a long gulp, unexpectedly thirsty from experiencing a short adrenaline rush earlier.

"Oh, my God! I forgot that our moms are friends," you say.

You and Felix were neighbors thus explaining how the decade-long friendship formed since you were in middle school.

"Unlike us," you jokingly add.

While you had to leave to study abroad, Felix stayed and pursued his dream to study music which marked the part of your lives branched out, growing apart from each other.

"Here we are now," he says and clinks his can of beer with yours.

You smile and take a small sip.

"So, you're a photographer now?" he puts down his drink and leans back with his arms outstretched on the headrest of the sofa.

"Yep!"

"And how is it going?" He turns his head at you with his hand playing with the end of your hair.

"It's great! I got fully booked until the end of the year," you answer with a sly grin.

"That's incredible!" He sincerely praises.

"Yes, it is!" You take another sip of beer, then burst into laughter.

"Except that I'm lying," you sadly add as the laughter turns into a grim look.

Felix doesn't say anything but put his arm around you, lets you rest your head on his shoulder, and endearingly pats your shoulder to comfort you.

"I'm glad that we're reconnecting cause now I know I can borrow some money from you," you say with a heavy sigh.

He nudges your shoulder with his, "I'm sure it's not that bad," he says.

"It is that bad. I'm barely booked for a job," you admit how pathetic you are to a friend you haven't seen in years but it's relieving to have someone you can openly tell your worries to.

His arm draws you closer so he can plant a kiss on top of your head, "just give it some time," he says.

It's the one thing that doesn't change in him: a man of physical affection. As someone who knows him for years, you don't mind him entering your personal space because that's just how he shows his affection, it's through physical touches. As he brushed your hair with his fingers, you feel nothing but comfort.

"Are you busy tomorrow?" He asks.

"It's the perks of being a freelance photographer, you have a flexible working time which technically means that I'm jobless so yeah, I'm not busy at all," you ramble as you catch his hand and clasped it with his.

"How about we have fun and have some good music tomorrow night?"

You get what he meant when he said 'tomorrow night', his band is having a concert and you need the distraction from this adulting thing.

You turn your head to look at him, "I would love that."

He smiles while looking down at you, "I'll have someone pick you up tomorrow afternoon," he says.

You tilt your head up, "Doesn't it starts at seven?"

"You don't want to join us for the soundcheck?" He asks back.

You grin at the thought of being exclusively invited to it, "can I bring my camera?"

He thinks for a moment, "I think so, yeah," he doubtfully answers.

His phone has been vibrating inside his jeans pocket but he keeps ignoring it. You leer at him, "It's okay if you have to go," you tell him.

He takes his arm away and pulls his phone out to reject the call, "It's my manager. We have tons of interviews to do tomorrow before the show so..." he sucks air through his teeth instead of finishing his sentence.

You get it that he feels bad for not having time to catch up on a lot of things with you yet he has responsibilities to do on behalf of his job.

"Then go!" You simply tell him.

He squints his eyes at you, "Are you kicking me out?"

"Yes," you take his jacket from the armrest of the sofa and toss it at him.

As much as you wanted to catch up with him, you can't be selfishly holding him from fulfilling his duty. Moreover, he needs the rest.

It's close to midnight and the street is almost empty, it's a good thing, there's a thin chance of people recognizing him.

"You wanted to punch me earlier and now I got kicked out of your apartment," he mumbles as he pushes the door to get out of your apartment building.

"Goodness, Felix!" You sigh and it feels weird calling his name again after a long time.

You hail a cab from across the street for him and the other hand holding his, "We'll meet again tomorrow, remember?" you remind him.

The taxi stops on the side of the road and you open the door for him.

Felix puts his arms around you, pulling you into a hug, "I'm so happy to see you again," he says with a breath of relief.

Knowing that the feeling is mutual, you smile as you hug him back, "me too, Felix, me too," you say, rubbing the small of his back to let the words seep into him.

"See you tomorrow!" Felix doesn't hesitate to kiss your cheek, a long, lingering one then lets go after a while.

He flashes a warm smile at you as he gets into the taxi, "go back inside!"

You nod, walking backward toward the entrance of your apartment building with your hand waving at him, "Goodnight!"

You watch the taxi drives away which makes you hit by a wave of nostalgia.

The day you left to study abroad, Felix sent you away in a taxi and you remember crying so hard the whole ride to the airport, heartbroken by the fact you won't be meeting someone like him to where you were going.

The moment you're back at your apartment, you dig into your vinyl collection, searching for an old record you haven't been playing in a long time.

"Gotcha!" You exclaim when you finally found it. You rush to the record player and carefully place the needle on the vinyl.

As the song starts playing, you sit by the window sill with a new can of beer, looking out at the view of the city with its blinking lights. It surely reminds you of those grueling first few days of living so far away from home. You cooped in your small flat and listened to this song through the headphones, being severely homesick.

"So what do you say? You can't give me the dreams that are mine anyway."

It wasn't a place or a certain object or the dull routine that you long to do, Felix's face ran through your head whenever you thought of home.

"You're half the world away... Half the world away..."

And tonight, you want to replace the bittersweet memory it elicits and plant a new one so the next time you listen to this song, you'd think of this day when you finally reunited with him.

"I've been lost. I've been found. But I don't feel down."

-

The car is pulling up right in front of you and you doubt that it's the one Felix sent to pick you up. The car is way too big and too fancy to pick up someone like you.

The window rolls down and you see someone with a bleached, buzzcut hair on the driver's seat.

"Are you a friend of Felix?" He asks.

It takes you a moment to process such a simple question, "Y-yes, I am."

"Okay, great, get in the car then!" He says.

You stand there and exchange confused glances at each other.

"I came here to pick you up," he explains, "Felix sent me."

He butchered the key information that assures you he's the one Felix ordered to get you to the venue. Seeing that you're not convinced yet, he pulls out an ID hung around his neck.

"I would appreciate it if you get in the car right now or else, we'll be late for the soundcheck," he says.

You stifle a nod and get into the car, sitting on the passenger's side, and putting on your seatbelt quickly.

"And thank you for sitting in the front," he says.

He drives fast despite the heavy traffic on the way to the concert venue. While waiting for the traffic light to turn green, he uses the opportunity to introduce himself.

"I'm Lou, by the way," he introduces himself.

You introduce yourself back, "Are you working for the band?"

He sucks air through his teeth, "you can say that, yeah," he vaguely answers.

You don't want to pressure him to answer your question especially when you just met him minutes ago.

After driving past the intersection, he continues to speak more about himself, "I'm a friend of Han and he got me to work with him, as a roadie."

"Ah, I get it," you lowly exclaim.

"I guess it's better than staying unemployed," he says.

You nod, agreeing with him. Anything is better than having no money.

"What about you? I heard you're a photographer?"

"That's right, yeah, I'm a freelance so I'm as good as a jobless person," you jokingly say.

He glances to see that you're not bringing anything but a sling bag, "you're not taking any cameras with you?"

You planned on taking one but you doubt that they'll let you take any pictures in there anyway so you decided not to. You still can take pictures with your phone anyway.

"I'm not sure if they'll allow me..."

He nods, "Yeah, I'm not sure either."

You let out a breath of relief knowing that you made the right decision.

Lou parks the car at the back of the concert venue, he tells you to keep following him but he walks so fast that you start to panting.

"ID, please?" The security asks him.

He shows his ID at him then points at you, "She's with me."

Lou continues walking fast while greeting everyone he meets on the way. It's like walking in a maze but he takes you to one of the doors that leads to the pit.

"I think we're late," he says.

As he pushes it open, the sound of music playing greets you.

There they are, the three of them on the stage, adjusting their instruments to get them ready for the soundcheck.

"Sit whenever you want!" Lou tells you.

You nod and find it hard to choose where to sit despite they're all empty.

"I'll come back in a few minutes with a pass for you," he says before leaving.

"Thank you," you mutter to him but he probably can't hear it against the blasting electric guitar playing from the stage.

You can spot his red hair, catching your eye right away as if his head caught on fire.

He's shredding his guitar, playing a riff that you recognize is an intro from one of their songs. On the back, you see Felix, tightening the screws on his drums and checking his pedal.

The other one is setting the amplifier next to Felix's drums, playing his bass to see if it's the tune he desired.

It doesn't stop there, next, they're checking their mics by calling their names into it.

"Check one two, one two, it's Han," he says into the mic.

You wouldn't say you don't know any of them because who doesn't?

Ssick is a band founded by Han, the vocalist and informally, the frontman of the band. He met Felix at a college and started jamming together but to start a band, they needed a guitar player, so Felix introduced him to Hyunjin who's now their main guitarist.

So they began playing as a band from one place to another throughout their college years and they grew a great following.

A year later, they got offered a record deal. Little did they know, they're off to great things. It's their third year as a band now.

As you grow older, you're off the radar on knowing what's popular these days so you can't exactly know how big they are but they're having a showcase concert to promote their third album right now so that says a lot.

They start playing a song on the stage right now, it's one that you heard so many times on the radio and again that says a lot about their popularity.

You can't help but notice how much Felix has grown, he used to be this boy who eats sweets and left the wrappers strewn around your bedroom floor and now he's there, being what he always wanted to be, a drummer for a band, a rockstar.

It sounded like a silly dream back then but look at him, proving that you're wrong.

You unconsciously get up from your seat once the soundcheck is done and clap your hands together, you doubt that they can hear it because you're sitting far enough and they get off the stage right away.

"Okay, now what we're doing?" You awkwardly ask yourself.

Lou says he'll be away for a few minutes but he hasn't come back yet. You look around the empty arena only to spot a few staff putting numbers on the seats.

It won't be long until one of them find out that you're an intruder walking around the concert venue, it's not like they would believe that you're a friend of one of the band member. Things don't work out that way.

You exit through the same door Lou took you in and start looking for him. The faster you get to him, the better chance you get of not getting kicked out.

However, the constant reminder of telling yourself to put on a calm face only makes you even more suspicious. Someone spotted you walking through the hallway and makes his way toward you, it's too late to turn back.

"Sorry, miss," the tall guard says.

He looks for something which you believe is an ID hanging around your neck.

"May I know what your business here is?"

You open your mouth but nothing comes out of your mouth, it isn't like you commit a crime but it feels like you got caught stealing something.

"I-I got here with Lou," you stammer.

"Who?"

"Lou, I came here—" your throat is closing up the more you try to explain, "but h-he went to get me—"

"I'm sorry, miss. I can't let you walk around here without an ID," he sternly says, holding his hand out to escort you somewhere.

Somehow you find yourself walking to where he's leading you as you try to come up with something convincing, "I'm a friend," you say.

With a flat smile, you know he dismissed you right away.

"I swear, I know Felix," you say but that sounds delusional coming from you who have no proof whatsoever.

From the opposite direction, you notice a familiar face who you think may be able to get you out of this dire situation.

You only have a little time as you're about to meet in the middle, hesitated and groggy, you call out his name.

"Hyunjin?"

You see him walk past you with his headphones on. Hopeless, you pull the sleeve of his jacket at once that the phone he's holding drops onto the floor.

Hyunjin immediately turns around and sees you.

"I'm so sorry," you quickly mutter, scrambling to pick up his phone from the floor. In one glance, you can tell the song he's listening to on his phone.

"I'm sorry," you say again while looking up to see and make sure that it's him, the red hair peeking out from the black beanie he's wearing confirmed it.

He stares at you for a moment but you sense that he's going to come at you for dropping his phone.

"Can you help me?" You ask, getting ahead of him.

His forehead wrinkles in confusion as he cleans the screen of his phone with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Can you call Felix for me? Let him know that I'm here?" You desperately say as the guard stands right behind you, witnessing the awkward exchange.

He looks at you again with an even more intense stare.

"Please?" You plead with a thin smile.

Hyunjin shifts his eyes to check for any damage, "and who are you?" he asks without looking at you.

"I'm a friend of Felix," you say and you wished that you said it confidently.

He looks up from his phone, his eyes are once again on you but what is strange about his stare this time is it's as if he saw another human for the first time: pure bewilderment.

"Can you please call him for me?" You kindly ask him again.

But the long pause only tells you that he has no intentions to help you.

"You know what? Never mind," you sigh.

You decide to give up trying to convince him. You have no proof to make him trust you anyway so why bother trying?

You turn around to let the guard take you to wherever he's going to send you, probably toss you out to the street.

Thankfully, at the end of the hall, Lou appeared to stop that from happening.

"I've been looking for you!" He says when he's still a few meters from you when it should be you saying that.

"It's okay, she's with me," he says to the guard.

He lets go right away and turns to do his job elsewhere, as much as you hate to experience it but that man is merely doing his job.

You let out a big sigh of relief, "what took you so long?" You whine and sound exactly like you're about to cry.

He puts the pass around your neck like a necklace, you check it to see that it's an all-access pass.

"Logistics stuff," he concisely explains.

You choose to let him off easy, he's also, just doing his job.

Putting his arm around your shoulder after, Lou takes you walking with him in the opposite direction of the hallway and when you think about it, it starts to feel like a maze.

"Where are we going?"

"The green room!" He shortly replies.

You both arrived at two big doors with the name of the band plastered on them and guarded by a security guard. He glances at your pass before opening the door for you.

Suddenly, a wave of anxiety hits you. Because what if you're not welcome there? You stop Lou from taking you inside with your hand holding onto the door.

"Is it alright for me to be in there?"

Lou got so perplexed by your question, "Of course!"

The little incident earlier gives you an inkling that someone inside wouldn't want you there. Lou probably thinks that you're nervous, he takes your hand to drag you inside, "If it's not alright then why Felix asked me to take you here?"

The green room is empty except for a few people sitting on the couch and a few others are in another part of the room.

"Hey guys, I found her loitering outside," Lou playfully announce your arrival to Felix who was talking to someone on the couch.

"Should we take her or not?"

Felix chuckles and leans back on the couch, scanning you from head to toe, "I'm not sure," he says.

Lou grabs both of your shoulders, "okay then I'll just toss her into the recyclable bin," he jokes.

You glare at both Felix and Lou, keeping your face stern.

Felix softens right away, "Okay, okay, come here!"

He takes your hand, pulling you hard enough that you topple onto his lap. You immediately get off his lap, afraid that people might take it the wrong way.

"Thank you for taking her here," Felix thanked Lou.

"No problem, man!" He replies, walking to the fridge stocked with both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. He picks up a can of cola and plops down on the other sofa.

"Where's Han?"

"In an interview in the other room," Felix replies, also grabbing a can of cola from the fridge without getting up. He opens it and hands it to you.

"Thanks," you mutter.

He leans back on the sofa again, looking tired even though his day is far from done.

"So, how was the soundcheck?"

You quickly swallow your first sip of soda to answer, "It was great!"

"Just great?"

You lowly chuckle, "we were much greater," you answer with a cheeky grin.

"That! I don't agree!"

Your head turns to see someone standing behind you and for a second, you thought it was the last person you want to see there and vice versa.

Han plops down on the sofa next to you, "I'm Han," he offers his hand at you.

You tell him your name while taking his hand to shake, "here I thought no one shakes hands anymore," you say.

A cocky grin appears on his small, round face, "I'm classy that way," he says.

Felix snorts next to you, "Trust me, there's nothing classy about this man!"

Han hits Felix with a cushion, "Back me up here!"

"She'd know if I lied," Felix defended himself.

"No, actually," You turn to Felix and continue speaking, "Anyone can tell when you're lying, Felix!"

Now, it's Han's turn to laugh, he puts his hoodie on and moves to the smaller sofa, getting comfortable by putting a cushion under his neck.

"I'm taking a nap," he announces and puts on earplugs.

Felix puts his hand around your shoulder and pulls you close until your head meets his, "am I that transparent?" He asks you in a whispery voice.

You lowly laugh, "Since day one."

He drops his head onto your shoulder and heavily sighs.

You pet his head and his hair is perfectly tousled as if someone spent hours styling it that way.

Something red enters your peripheral vision and your heart skipped a beat, you haven't decided how you should act upon the little incident earlier.

Should you be wise and let it go? You also hate to be in this situation.

"Hyunjin, I want to introduce someone to you," Felix shouts at him with his head still resting on your shoulder and your hand in his hair.

Hyunjin stops on his track for a while, looking at Felix, then at you. As he sets his eyes on you, you decide to bravely stare back at him, letting him know that it's the right time for him to say something.

All he does is this subtle shrug then goes to the other part of the room. No apologies or even a hint of regret for dismissing you earlier.

Holding a grudge seems to be the only right choice at the moment and you don't care how petty that sounds.

Felix knows that Hyunjin just gave you a not-so-friendly welcome greeting, "he's always like that before a show," he assures you.

"Man, he's like that even after the concert," Lou adds.

With eyes closed, Han injects himself into the conversation, "pretty boys are like that," he jokingly remarks.

"The fact that you aren't like that means you're not pretty?" Lou pokes fun at him.

He smirks with eyes closed, "that's because I'm cool," he ends with a bold statement.

-

Thankfully, Felix doesn't have to go anywhere but get his makeup done.

The make-up artist doesn't do much on him, just a thin layer of foundation that covers enough with his freckles still showing, dusting both of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

After that, he does his preconcert rituals and which consist of having a light meal, drinking hydration drinks, memorizing the setlist, warming up, and having a quick briefing with the stage director.

You feel like a real intruder as you walk with him to the back of the stage, you have no other choice with his arm around your shoulder.

The manager finally appears a few minutes before showtime, everyone gathers into a circle while you stand in the corner.

"Come here!" Felix says, gesturing you to join in.

Lou is pushing you from the back, also joining the circle for team cheer. Hands are stacked in the middle of the circle you can't tell whose hands belong to who anymore.

The manager shouts encouragement loudly as the opening sequence of the concert has began playing on stage and the crowd cheers at the anticipation.

"On three!" Han shouts.

"One, two, three!" He shouts as everyone throws their hands in the air in unison.

"WE'RE SO SSICK!" Everyone shouts in unison except you.

The path to the stage is signed with neon-colored tape plastered onto the floor but it's still dark to see what you're stepping on. Lou is quick to turn on the flashlight from his phone while fisting the back of your t-shirt, afraid that you might stumble with the cables slithering on the floor.

Everyone is stopping at the side of the stage, still out of the crowd's sight.

"You can watch from here!" Felix tells you.

You grab him by the elbow to whisper to him instead of trying to talk over the loud music, "Good luck!"

He smiles, then pulls you into a quick hug. He turns at Lou but he knows what he's going to say.

"Don't worry! I got her!" He assures him.

The moment each one of them steps into the stage, the crowd cheers louder it's deafening.

"Your friend worries a lot," Lou whispers to you.

"I know," you mouthed at him while laughing.

The show starts with a blasting guitar playing from Hyunjin, a riff from the title song in their last album. It feels as if someone just electrocuted you because all of sudden your body is buzzing all over but in the best way.

Then Felix starts banging his drum with his foot hitting the pedal so hard that you can feel every beat right in your eardrum.

After a few bars of intro, Han takes over his place in the front and pushes his mouth close to the mic, singing the first line of the verse followed by the crowd singing along with him.

Somehow, you picked up the lyrics of the chorus right away and sang along on the second verse. Your body is controlled by the music that you're no longer trying to stop yourself anymore but giving in.

In the break between the songs, you take a step forward to see how many people are there coming to the concert. Turns out, the arena is full of people from top to bottom, front to back. There are so many people you can't possibly count them in your head.

All of the hairs on your arms are standing as you take a step back to the side of the stage, "oh my God!"

Lou grins at you, he seems to be used to this view. Unlike you, he's busy looking at the members the whole time, to check if anyone needs something fixed quickly.

They'll signal him if something is wrong or the sound is either too low or high, mic problem. Lou also helps if either Hyunjin or Han needs a change of instruments.

"Here! Felix's solo is coming soon!" He gestures for you to come over to him.

You comply, standing a little too close to the stage but hidden behind the stage equipment. There, you get a clear view of Felix playing his drum, every movement of his hands and feet on the pedals.

Hyunjin stops playing his guitar, leaving only Han playing rhythmical guitar as the background to Felix's solo drumming.

You were wrong to ever thought that Felix's dream of becoming a drummer is a silly thing. Here you are, watching him become one and he's incredibly good at it that it feels like he's sticking his middle finger right to your face.

Other than that, you are so proud of him, proud of what he has become yet remains the same person.

Felix is too focused on playing that he only realized you were watching from the side once he's done with his solo. He slyly grins at you with one eyebrow raised while his hands are busy carrying the beat.

"Told you I'm great!" He shouts at you.

"Yeah keep telling that to yourself," you playfully reply.

It feels a whole lot different watching them from the side of the stage like this and seeing what's happening behind the scene, that there are a lot more people involved in the show to make sure everyone leaves with unforgettable memories.

They finish the last song on the setlist and take a break before going back in for the encore.

Lou is handing out extra towels as each one of them comes to the side of the stage. Felix grabs one, then begins aggressively drying his hair with it, making a mess of it.

Han has his tongue out as he tries to catch his breath, standing facing the nig portable air conditioner to cool himself down.

Hyunjin is the last one to come backstage, practically drenched in sweat. His t-shirt is soaking wet that it's stuck to his body.

He sits on top of a box with his head down, sweat dripping from the end of his hair with the red hair dye fades into the white t-shirt he's wearing.

Felix puts his hand on your shoulder as a support, as he too, is running out of breath. The sleeveless top he's wearing is sticking to his skin despite it having two gaping holes on each side, exposing just enough to let everyone know he has toned abs under there.

Realizing that you unintentionally ogling at your best friend, you shake the thoughts away, quickly grabbing a bottled water nearby and uncap it for him.

"For the greatest drummer in the world," you switch the towel in his hand with it.

He's too exhausted to laugh at it that he can only grin, then takes a long, big gulp of water it spills out the corner of his mouth and dribbles down his chin. He finishes the whole bottle in under a minute.

With the already damp towel, you dab the sweat on his face and neck, carefully not ruining the make-up that somehow survives the extra moisture on his face.

A few minutes have passed with the crowd chanting for an encore when it's obvious that they need another few minutes of break.

You check the setlist taped to the wall and they have three songs to play for the encore. You wonder how they can still fully function after performing for more than two hours already.

"Whenever you're ready, boys!" Someone says, which you believe is coming from the manager.

Felix grabs another bottled water, not to drink it but pours it on his head to cool it off, he pushes his bleached blonde hair to the back with his fingers.

This is the kind of sight that would make the fans go wild, but what can you say? Guess tonight they're not lucky as you.

Felix takes the towel back from you to wipe the water dribbling down his neck, "do I look alright?" He asks with his eyes wide.

You saw the stylist put on mascara on him earlier and now it's slightly smudged with how much he sweats, but that only adds to the rockstar look. You decide to only wipe the excess under his eyes ever so slowly with your pinky finger.

"Let's get ready!" Han says as he looks around for the members despite he's still catching his breath.

Felix puts his hand away from your shoulder to get a clean towel, using it to dab fresh sweat on his face.

Behind him, something catches your eyes, the red of Hyunjin's hair and him casually taking his t-shirt off in front of everyone. Well, everyone is probably used to this but not you, you're the only one having a hard time trying not to look his way.

Look away, look away, you repeatedly tell yourself, but instead of doing that, you do the exact opposite.

You stare at his back figure and see the ridges his back muscles made as he puts a t-shirt over his head that eventually covers his smooth skin, glistening wet even under the poor lighting backstage.

Han once again takes the lead, walking up to Felix and tapping him on the shoulder repeatedly as if to transfer his energy to him.

"Let's go!" He excitedly tells him.

Felix always manages to catch you off guard, surprising you by pressing a kiss on the cheek and you can only give in to him.

"Be right back!" He says with a grin.

Hyunjin follows them not long after, but stopping at the side to dry his hair with a towel, you feel a few drops of his sweat land on your arms.

He briefly glances at you, then tosses the damp towel away before entering the stage again.

That one stare reminds you why you're still holding a grudge against him, but at the same time, you don't want it to ruin the night.

However, once Hyunjin plays his guitar, you forget all about it.

You feel the shiver down your spine, and it's getting intense as the guitar riffs he plays charmed you to keep watching.

And it's hard to do so because he's so blinding.

Before you fall in deeper, you turn to see Felix who's just as blinding, shining in his own limelight. You don't have to talk about Han, he shines in his own way from the way he got everyone wrapped around his little finger.

The pit is going berserk as they play a song they have probably been waiting for. The loud cheering returns and the music starts filling the entire space, letting it hypnotize and control them.

There's no use in fighting it, you let yourself get carried away and notice that Lou joining you as he puts his arm on your shoulder, jumping together to the intensified music as it comes close to its ending.

As the music stops, you found yourself panting and turn to the side to find Lou laughing, you can't help but laugh along with him even though you feel like you're about to faint.

The concert is close to three hours long but it seems like none of the attendees wanted to go home. You can relate to that after what you've experienced, that incredible feeling of being a part of something much bigger than ourselves. It's one-of-a-kind, euphoric, and addictive.

"Let's wait in the back!" Lou says, leading you down the steps with the help of the flashlight from his phone.

After the curtain closed and the lights are out, they finally come down to the backstage. The cheers from everyone who's working just as hard behind the curtains welcome them, applauds and whistles.

They give handshakes, high-fives, and quicks hugs to thank them for their hard work while you're trailing behind as they make their way back to the green room.

Felix stops on his track with his head turned, searching for you.

"She's here!" Lou says as he gently pushes you his way.

You walk up to him with a proud smile on, profoundly proud of him for not only achieving his dream but keep thriving at it.

"You were so great!" You got choked as you tell him that and he knows it's coming from the bottom of your heart, you're about to hug him when he avoids it.

"I'm sweaty, babe," he says, maintaining a space between your bodies.

He drops his hand to hold yours instead and starts walking together.

-

Felix comes out of the green room with his damp hair brushed to the back, carrying a bag on one shoulder with a smile blossoming on his face the second he sees you.

You've been waiting outside because they must be tired from the show, you should give them the space to cool down.

You stole a few packs of sweets and waited outside with Lou.

Felix walks towards you with his arms outstretched, hinting that he's going to hug you and you immediately rise from your seat to receive it.

His freshly shampooed hair smells nice but what you like the most is that natural scent that clung to his clothes.

"You smell way better now," you playfully say as you pull away.

"I know," he coyly answers with a smile.

He puts his arm around you and starts walking down the hallway that leads to the parking basement where a van is already parked right outside with the driver already waiting.

"You get in first!" He says.

Again, you comply without a word and only realized that you have no idea where he's taking you once you are seated in the back row of the van.

Felix plops down next to you and puts his bag next to him.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"The after-party, of course," he simply answers.

"Aren’t you... tired?"

That must have sounded so naive coming from you that he chuckles, "Why? It's past your bedtime?"

You nod, "Yes. I actually want to go home. I miss my bed."

He glances at you in disbelief and shakes his head with his hand rummaging the inside of his bag.

"I use the same one," you share as he takes out a cherry lip balm.

He applies it on his lips, then says, "Want me to apply it on you?" he leans in with his lips puckered.

Your hand reflexively pushes him away as he playfully tries to kiss you. At the same time, someone enters the car and from the bright red of his hair, you know who it is without having to see his face.

Your laughs die down as he sits on the seat in the middle, you hear him sighing then drops his bag on the space next to him with a low thud.

It's getting quiet inside the dark of the van, the only source of light is coming from Felix's phone as he's checking his messages.

"Are you even allowed to take your girlfriend?" Hyunjin suddenly asks.

He doesn't even turn his head to the person he's asking the question to. Felix puts his arm around you to pull you closer to his side even though he has no one to show it off to.

"Why? Are you jealous?" Felix asks back instead of denying him.

You turn to the side to see Felix slyly grinning with the lights from his phone illuminating his face. On the other hand, you hear Hyunjin sighs again then puts his headphones back on again, probably regretted for asking about it.

A while later, Han and Lou finally get into the van, sitting on the front seats together. They're already busy chatting about a few things all at once and it's the first time you hear Lou talks so much.

Someone else gets into the passenger's side and the car lurches forward, exiting the parking basement. As the car drives out of the building, you can see a group of people lining up to perhaps, see the band once more before going home.

They're cheering as the van rides past them despite they can't see through the heavily tinted glass.

Calculate it fast in your head, they have waited for almost two hours after the concert ended just to catch a glimpse of them.

It makes you realize that you're lucky to be able to comfortably enjoy the show and now, being in the same car with them, an experience that a lot of people dream of having.

The whole ride is quiet and when you thought they must be resting out of fatigue. When the car stops in another parking basement in which you have no idea where.

Everyone can't wait to get out of the car, you're the last one to come with Felix helps you get off by holding your hand.

It's when you enter the building that you recognize it's the hotel they're staying at.

As everyone waits for the elevator to arrive, Han notices you standing across from him. Since your eyes make contact, it's only right to say something.

"Hey," you sheepishly say, afraid that he's not in the mood to talk to someone.

"Hey!" He greets back, "How was the show?"

He looks alright for a man who has sung more than twenty songs in two and a half hours.

"Incredible!" You shortly reply then realize that's not enough of a compliment.

"It's just amazing from first to last," you add and hope that it doesn't sound phony, you're just bad at verbalizing your thoughts.

He smiles back while fixing the collar of his jacket, "well, I'm glad you came," he says.

You don't expect him to be this charming in person, he has the kind of charm that slowly growing in you.

Felix hisses at him, "she came for me," he says while pushing you into the elevator as the doors slide open.

Han nudges Lou's elbow, "I didn't know Felix can be this possessive," he whispers to him intentionally loud.

Inside the small space of the elevator, Hyunjin remains unbothered with his headphones still on, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. You can only see his face through the reflection on the shiny furnace of the elevator as it shoots up to the top floor which you assume is where all the luxurious suites are located.

It shouldn't come as a surprise to you anymore but the reality that your friend is in a famous band hasn't sunk in yet.

The after-party isn't what you expected it to be, it's more like a get-together with a hotel bartender working behind a small bar, tending to everyone's drinks.

You recognize most of the people there as the staff working in the green room earlier except that they're way more relaxed.

Everyone scatters like they know where they need to go and you hate to always have to cling to Felix which only shows how shitty you are at socializing.

"Drinks?" Lou asks from beside you.

"Yes, please!" You let out a sigh of relief at the end of the sentence.

Lou doesn't hesitate to order a hard liquor while you chose to have something with the least amount of alcohol in it. You take a sip to confirm that it tastes more sugary than an alcoholic and have a bigger sip after.

Being Lou is exceptionally easy, maybe because he's so laid-back and nonchalant in a sense that makes you feel like he's not going to attack you with personal questions.

"So, what do you guys usually do at the after-party?" You ask.

He snorts, "Actually, nothing, we just... chill?" He doubtfully answers, then pulls out a phone from his jacket.

"Let's take a picture!" He gives you no time to think of a pose but holds out his hand far enough to fit both of your faces in the camera.

What kind of photographer who doesn't know how to pose? You almost roll your eyes at yourself as the thought runs through your head.

"What's your Instagram?"

"I don't have one."

He squints his eyes at you for a moment, "No media social presence? Cool!"

You can't tell if he's being sarcastic or earnestly complimenting you, whichever it is, you don't feel offended by him.

"I have one but it's for my photography and work stuff," you add before you weirded him out more.

"Here," he hands you his phone to let you insert your username.

As you're handing his phone back, Felix comes from behind you. He gently puts his hand on your shoulder and talks close to your ear.

"Hey, I need you to meet someone," he says.

You turn to the side to find him leaning so close to you that it startles you.

"Who?"

He drops his hand to yours, "come with me," he orders.

"Okay, wait," you gulp the rest of your drink before letting Felix take you somewhere.

You haven't had the chance to look around the suite to know there's a balcony and a group of people lounging out there.

This is where they scooted away to, you say as you spotted Han and Hyunjin sitting on the long sofa.

Felix is taking you exactly there and makes you stand in front of everyone, putting you in the center of attention.

He points at the man sitting on the other sofa, "This is Vin," he introduces.

"He's the tour manager," he adds.

You hold out your hand because this sounds formal and it's basic etiquette, something that you learned from Han earlier.

"Hi, pleased to meet you," you sincerely say.

There's a hint of regret that you didn't choose to drink something stronger back in the bar, this calls for that too with the attention you're getting.

"You're a photographer?" Vin asks.

You clear your throat before answering, "Yes," you stammer.

That doesn't sound convincing so you try again, "Yes, I am."

He fixes his seating on the sofa and leans forward as if he's needing to take a better look at you, "I don't see you taking your camera with you tonight."

"I thought I'm not allowed to so I–" you pause as you heard someone snorts, everyone else there is chatting to each other however you feel their eyes on you.

"I'm sorry," you conclude instead of finishing your sentence and oh, you hate to apologize when you don't even do anything wrong.

Vin nods as he takes his glass of drink from the glass table, "so what do you think about being the band's photographer?"

The question takes you out completely. Firstly, because you didn't ask for it, and secondly, you don't know how you feel about it because you never even thought about it.

"Felix has been telling me about you," he says.

You look at the culprit next to you and he's grinning ear to ear, he knows that you can't be mad when he's putting his sunshine face on.

"We'll be going on tour next month," Vin continues, shifting on his seat and hastily sipping his drink, "how about you join us, taking pictures of the boys, the stage, everything..."

This is so sudden, so out of the blue and you don't like doing things unplanned. You take a low breath to supply your brain with more oxygen so you can think clearly.

After a while, the cogs are turning and your head started to fill with the pros. One, It's a job, you're barely booked and the tour is next month, two, no one booked you next month and third, it's a huge opportunity, you'll not be just a photographer for a band, it's THE one famous rock band, it's Ssick.

Vin hisses as he takes another sip of his liquor, "Just for the tour and you'll be paid, of course!"

Oh, and money. You need money, a lot of it to rent a photo studio.

"Oh, you're going on tour with us?" Someone asks.

Your head turns to see Han sitting on the armrest of the sofa, talking excitedly as if he's delighted to have you as one of his entourage. Or maybe he does and that lands him on the pros list.

You're getting confident about it now and about to answer him when your eyes somehow turn to the guy sitting next to him, the bright red of his hair is a contrast to his pale face that tells he is opposed to the idea, well, he can be on the cons list and you couldn't care less.

You look away from him and turn to Vin, "I'd love to, yes," you confidently answer.

It's the first time in your life saying yes out of a whim and you feel anxiety rises inside you.

"See you on tour then!" He coyly says with his glass slightly raises at you.

You excuse yourself the second the deal is made and run back to the bar, you meet Lou on the way there as he's talking to someone.

"Can I have it?" You point at his drink.

He shrugs and hands it to you without complaint.

You drain it empty in one long gulp and wince at the bitter aftertaste. It's whiskey and it's burning your throat that you can't speak without feeling like you're about to spit fire.

He rolls his head to the back to look at you, "what's wrong?"

You can only respond by shaking your head, telling him that you're alright and that you needed to release some jitters.

When you thought you can take it, you can feel the alcohol is making its way back out of you.

Lou is quick-witted, he gets up from the sofa and pulls you to a bathroom at the end of the hall. He closes the door for you as you rush to kneel on the floor, vomiting into the toilet bowl.

You check yourself in the mirror and see the mess you made on your t-shirt. You wet a towel to clean it but it's doing nothing, if anything, everyone would know you just vomited.

Someone barges into the toilet, it's your fault for not locking it after Lou closed it for you.

"It's occupied!" You shout, putting a hand to stop someone comes inside.

"It's me!"

From his deep voice, you can easily tell that it's Felix. Slowly you let go of your hand from blocking the door and open it for him.

His eyes dart to your wet, tainted t-shirt.

"I'm so grotesque, I know," you whine and continue your effort to clean it by roughly wiping on it with the wet towel.

Felix takes off his hoodie and hands it to you, "here, wear this," he says.

You take it from him without thinking, it's the only right option. He turns around to let you change your clothes.

"Are you mad?" Felix asks.

His question sounds so loud in this bathroom that is bigger than your bedroom. Other than that, you hear the sheer anxiety in his words.

"I'm not mad, Felix," you shorty reply.

You take a second to put on his hoodie and fix it while looking at the mirror, "You can turn around now!" You tell him.

He turns around and puts his hand against the sink, leaning his body to one side.

"But...?"

He knows you well that no detail is missed from you, "I was just a little taken aback," you honestly tell him.

He stares at you, making sure you're being honest and you let him see it in your eyes.

"If you feel pressured to do so but couldn't tell Vin, you can just tell me," he says as he takes a step toward you.

You shake your head and toss your unsalvaged t-shirt into the trash bin unintentionally hard, "are you kidding me?"

Felix gets startled that he reels to the back, "What?"

"What makes you think I'll pass the chance to go on a road trip with you and get paid for it?" You put both of your hands on his chest and playfully shove him away.

"I don't think so," you add with a playful grin.

His face loosens at your answer, he pulls you into a hug but you're fast to avoid it. You walk past him and stumble out of the bathroom, running away from him.

Felix catches you with his arms around your waist and you squeal as he lifts you off the floor.

"Put me down!"

"No!" He refuses, tightening his arms around you instead.

You hit his arms to force him to let you go but he's starting to spin you around as if you haven't just vomited a few minutes ago.

"Can you guys get out of the way?"

Both of you turn your heads at the same time to see Hyunjin with his annoyed face, waiting for any of you to make a way for him.

"Sorry," you meekly say and get to the other side with Felix.

"There's another bathroom..." Before Felix can finish his sentence, Hyunjin is already inside the bathroom.

Felix shrugs, "he probably needs to go number 2!"

As your eyes meet again, both of you burst into laughter at the same time.

The after-party is still going but it's past midnight and you're booked tomorrow, "I have to go home," you tell Felix.

He starts groaning, fussing like a child, "stay a little longer," he pleads with an adorable pout.

"I am booked for a job tomorrow," you share, and that the job requires you to be there earlier than the appointed time.

He pouts more it's forming into duck lips and you put your hand over it, slowly pushing him away.

"I have to go," you groan back.

He holds both of your hands, looking defeated.

"I'll have Lou drive you home," he says.

"No!" You strongly refuse, "I'm sure he's tired already."

"I'll drive you then," he offers with a flirty wink.

He's so relentless it's silly, you laugh and push him away from you, "I'll take a taxi home, the hotel reception can get one for me," you tell him.

You make a quick trip around to say bye to everyone, well, just a few of them that you know.

"Hey, I'm still glad that you came," Han says as he waves back at you.

"See you on tour!" Lou says to you with a quick, side hug.

This feels nice, this feels like you're welcomed even though the tour hasn't begun yet. Part of it is because Hyunjin is still out of your sight until you leave the suite. Well, you don't have to worry about him until next month.

Felix insists on sending you off, he comes to the hotel lobby with you and waits for your taxi to arrive.

He intertwines his hand with yours on his lap, "It'll be fun!"

Felix is filled with giddiness after he made sure you fully agreed to join the tour.

"We'll have so much fun!"

His gleeful grins are so child-like, you can't say no to his wishes when he's adorable like this.

"Are you that happy?" You jokingly ask.

He enthusiastically nods his head like a puppy.

You can't help but smile. The hotel doorman informs you that the taxi has arrived. You both get up from the chairs and exchange a hug.

"You were so great today, Felix! I'm so proud of you," you've been wanting to tell him that and make sure he hears it well, he has to know that he's doing great.

It seems that he doesn't expect to hear that from you but you feel his hand squeezes your shoulder.

"See you soon!" He finally utters something after what you said to him, then pulls away.

You wave your hand at him before exiting the hotel and sigh the moment you get into the taxi. A month feels so long, so far when excitement fills you to the brim.

A month couldn't come sooner.

-

It feels nice to be home and be in the comfort of your bed.

You pick up your phone to set an alarm since you have to wake up early for a job tomorrow. There's a notification and you click on it to see the photo Lou posted on his Instagram with your handle tagged on it.

Turns out, Lou has his fans as his followers count can grant him an influencer status. You scroll down his social media page to see the photos he has posted and they're mostly the photos he took of the band, random bits, here and there.

There's one photo of Hyunjin eating a donut with a box full of it sitting on his lap with his hair still dark and tied into a tiny ponytail that formed a little palm tree on the top of his head.

"Flour boy," Lou captioned it and a chuckle escapes your mouth.

You slap yourself on the face to remind yourself that you're holding a grudge against him and the next thing you know, you fall into the rabbit holes of things you should have done or said to him, making scenarios in your head until you can't take it anymore.

You can't go to sleep like this, not when the last thing on your mind is that annoying red-haired flour boy. You're flipping through your vinyl collections to check if you have what you're looking for.

Everyone knows that album artwork of a painting of a banana by Andy Warhol but you're not sure if you ever bought it.

Giving up, you end up looking for the album on your phone and play the same song Hyunjin was listening to as you knocked his phone down.

You sit down on the carpeted floor listening to the song playing the intro of the song then you hear a girl starts singing...

"Here she comes

You better watch your step

She's going to break your heart in two

It's true..." 

-

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[respectthepetty]

Give me merch, BoC!

Before I freak out about colors in episode three of 4 Minutes, just know that if this was a time-traveling show on GMMTV, the cats in the claw machine would've been merch yesterday!

BoC, why don't you want our money?!

But even without making them merch, these cats made my day!

And it's all because Great gave Tyme the white one.

Tyme is color-coded black and Great is color-coded white.

So each cat represents them in this time-shifting story, and Great gave himself to Tyme by giving him the white cat.

And strangely enough, these color-coded boys won several cats which is a successful date, but also something something about several versions of themselves existing within the story . . .

But what really makes me happy is each cat has a heart in the other color on its side, so when held together, those heart patches form a dual-colored heart!

And although I think Tyme approached Great because he wanted information on Great's family, the boys got hit with a tiny blinding light of love right before they were supposed to kiss.

And Tyme did expose himself to Great instead of fighting him even though he could have easily overpowered Great, which is something we saw when Tyme fought Title.

Because this story is really about the gray area everyone is existing in.

When Win showed up the first time, Tonkla was guarded with a boundary firmly planted between them and Win was light.

But this episode, Tonkla removed his barrier, and let Win in, but Win, in his dark colors, definitely crossed a line he shouldn't have.

Win is a good guy.

And so is Korn.

But circumstances and choices change people.

And even the best people are capable of doing bad.

So it's interesting that Tyme has been positioned in black from the beginning even though he is a doctor.

And Great is positioned as white even though we have seen him run away from doing what's right several times.

Yet when Tyme went to ask Great out and Great confessed to seeing the future, Tyme was in gray as he shifts between the two colors.

Great's interactions with Tyme advance the clock a minute closer to 11:04 from 11:00, but the number four is special, as many people have pointed out because it represents death.

And Great keeps getting closer and closer.

So him throwing down his phone causing the number four ball to roll into the pocket was perhaps telling that it's not all Tyme moving the clock, but just like Win and Korn and their colors, Great's choices are moving the clock and impacting his life.

Doctors save lives, but we have been shown through the woman who tried to die by suicide and the patient this episode in Bed #4, that doctors also need to know when to listen and end a patient's suffering.

(Spare Me Your Mercy, I'm so ready for you and your color-coded boys in love to give us a story about these specific ethics! I'm going to watch you so hard!)

Tyme continues to say he isn't a doctor but a surgeon. Tyme doesn't listen to his patients, which is why Den is upset at him. And Tyme isn't listening to Great because if he was he'd hear exactly what is being said - "these symptoms happened when [the] heart stopped"

Tyme needs Great to remind him, that regardless of the past, it's important to listen and care, and Great needs Tyme to listen to his sad rich boy stories. They need each other to save each other. Triage, is that you homie in a trench coat and mustache glasses?!

But more importantly, they need each other to save each other's hearts! Great needs Tyme to literally save his life by saving his heart, but Tyme was hardening his heart. He had stated several times that he is in his career for the money, but Great reminded Tyme that money was irrelevant if the love was missing with his story of a 1,000 baht toy. They have both good and bad in them, but they need the other color-coded person to be complete. They need the other person to live.

Since I still believe Tyme is the one having cardiac arrest in the first episode, if one of them actually gives up his heart to save the other, I'm gonna be unwell about it.

Random Thoughts:

The friend calling Tyme a "pale guy, very handsome, and kinda brooding" hit me personally because I call characters who are black color-coded Black Brooders and Tyme is the Black Brooder in this story.

Great seeing the message on the tea cup change from "Don't forget to get your wound checked at the hospital" to "Can you forgive me, Great?" has me thinking this won't just be about Tyme trying to get dirt on Great's family and Great being upset about. That question feels heavier. That question feels like both their lives are changed by Tyme.

The female patient who experiences the same symptoms as Great was wearing white and black when she was being interviewed, but when Great envisioned a woman on the bed, red lights were flashing, like they were meeting while coding.

The way the red reflects on Great's shirt in the car makes it look like a heart on his sleeve when he looks at Tyme.

MY BOY MIO!

[ddejavvu]

Hi Mei 🧡

So I have indoor/outdoor cats. The girl cat (Cleo) is a prolific hunter so everytime she appears at the back door I playfully go “Oh my gosh there’s a serial killer at the door!” How do you think Hotch would react to his partner making that joke one night while letting their cat in?

Ps. I love You

i love you too!

--

You're not thinking things through when you go to let your cat inside, having forgotten that the phrase you typically croon at her isn't one that your murderer-hunter boyfriend might not like. But you gush anyways, "Oh, no! There's a serial killer at the door!"

The nickname comes from the plethora of dead critters you've been delivered by your cat, countless mice and spiders and even a few birds that she shouldn't have been able to get her paws on. But she comes empty-handed today, or, empty-mouthed, and darts inside once you slide the door open.

Aaron is at your side in an instant. He doesn't have his gun on him, it's locked away beyond the reach of very curious kitties. But he's got brute strength, and the tenacity of a bull.

"Move," He demands, shouldering his way in front of you. You let out a grunt of surprise, but not of pain; he hadn't bumped you too hard. He scans the backyard, then casts a wary glance back at you, "Where?"

"What?"

"You said there was a serial killer at the door," He snaps, metaphorical hackles raised, "Where?"

"Aaron," You gape, dumbfounded, "The- my cat. She brings me dead things. So- I... I call her a serial killer."

He stands stiff for only a moment more, then in a second, all of the tension drains from his muscles. He sags in relief, then slides the door shut and rounds on you.

"Terrible choice of words," He grumbles, but despite the furrow in his brow, you know he's not truly upset with you. He's almost sheepish, which is a rare sight to see, but an endearing one.

"I'm sorry," You bite your lips together, tucking them into your mouth and trying not to laugh at him, "Aaron, I'm sorry, I didn't- I wasn't thinking, I just say it all the time!"

"You're gonna send me into cardiac arrest before sixty." He glares, "You tease me about being old, but I'm not old enough to die."

"I'm sorry!" You insist again, giggling despite your best efforts, and leaning in to kiss sloppily against his downturned lips, "I won't do it again. Or- I probably will, that's a lie. But you'll get used to it."

"Oh, I will?" He quirks a brow, finally relenting and breathing out a shaky laugh through his sheepish grin. He takes hold of your hips, pinning them to his own as he drives his nose against yours, "I should just get used to thinking my girlfriend is about to get axe murdered?"

"Axe murdered," You scoff, but you gladly accept the kiss he presses to your lips, letting him lean you back slightly on your feet so that his shoulders are your lifeline. "If there was a real murderer at the door, I wouldn't talk to them in a baby voice, Aaron."

"I don't put anything past you," He narrows his eyes, but keeps his face pressed to yours, so really it looks like he narrows one giant eye in the middle of his face, "You talk to Jack in a baby voice, and he's seventeen."