#in case of anyone wondering...yes this is a reupload

[xcarg0t-stuff]

A beastly night (Werewolf Olimar x Vampire Louie)

[otomiyaa]

Massage For Edamame

Edamura x Laurent

[Fic Reupload] - Requested by anon! I didn't realize it wasn't on AO3, odd! Thank you @wertzunge for saving it❤️

Summary: Laurent heard Edamura ask for a foot massage again, and this time he plans to happily indulge him. Little did he know that Edamura was joking: whoever with really ticklish feet would ask for a massage and mean it? Not him of course! (Also on AO3)

Warning: Rated M for hot make out sessions and sexual tension…

Word Count: 2K

To say Edamura liked having his life threatened, or enjoyed seeing his friends fake another death, would be exaggerated. Still, there was a certain thrill he got out of his con adventures with the gang, yet unfortunately they were now in New York, finalizing the least thrilling mission to date.

“P-Please! Give me my money back, I’ll do anything!”

Laurent had told him of these kinds of victims before. The begging, sobbing kind. He almost felt bad. Pulling his foot back from the sobbing man who had been acting like a haughty villain only minutes ago, Edamura scoffed.

“Anything, you say? Fine, massage my feet,” Edamura replied with an arrogant smirk, kicking him lightly with his foot.

“Yes! I will, I really will! Just please, return my money!” the man begged. Not that it was possible. He had already transferred the money to Cynthia who was of course not Cynthia the con-woman in this case.

“Don’t mind him, Edamame. Abbie, take him away,” Laurent commanded. Abigail grabbed the man’s collar and proceeded to drag him out, but not before having to pluck him from Edamura’s legs.

“Ah that was way too easy,” Edamura sighed when it was finally quiet. Laurent stood next to him. 

“It was a fine prize, it doesn’t hurt to have some boring cases once in a while. Want to go grab a drink?” he asked. Edamura only realized this might have been a subtle date-invitation after he shrugged it off. 

“Nah, going back to the hotel and shower.” So he did. On his way to the hotel, he wondered if Laurent maybe liked him in not only a friendly way.

Lately Laurent had been inviting him for drinks or inviting him to spend time together whenever they were not off conning bad people. 

He then shook his head. Nah, Laurent was like this with anyone. After having his shower and dressing himself in comfy clothes he stretched himself out on the hotel bed and yawned.

Boring, uneventful case or not, he was tired. So tired that he fell asleep, while it was hardly time for dinner. He snored and even drooled for a good twenty to thirty minutes before a strange sensation pulled him from his sleep.

“Back with me? Look who’s tired after such a way too easy con.”

Laurent Thierry. Ugh. Edamura felt his feet tingle a little, and he blinked his sleepy eyes to look at them. He was finally awake.

“H-Hey! How did you get in here?!” he barked, pulling back his feet. Laurent had been massaging them, ugh! 

“I know the staff here, of course I can get in any room I want. Cute socks,” Laurent said casually, nodding at Edamura’s ‘I heart NY’ socks. 

“Yeah, bought them yesterday. Okay fine but why are you here?” he asked. Laurent shrugged.

“You didn’t want to come with me for a drink so I go to you. Logic I guess? C’mhere, I’ll massage your feet for you, you seem really tired,” Laurent offered as if he hadn’t woken up said tired person just now. 

As Laurent grabbed his feet again to massage them, Edamura sputtered, “Nonono I mean why? Don’t!”

He tried pulling away his feet, but Laurent pressed them down on bed and started to massage them. His thumbs skillfully rubbed circles on his soles, one hand grabbing his toes and doing things to it as well that just… oh no.

Failing to concentrate, Edamura vaguely heard Laurent’s reply, “Today I heard you ask for a foot massage and it wasn’t the first time. I think I’ve heard you say it like three or four times more, I thought you’d finally like to have one.” Edamura was shaking. No, no even though it was a kind offer, this wasn’t-! 

“Pffft hehehe, t-thahhat’s because - no haha! I dihihidn’t mean, s-stop!” Laurent looked up at his big smiley- giggly face. At Edamura’s rosy cheeks, scrunched up nose and suddenly Edamura felt very exposed.

“Why are you laughing? Does it tickle?” he asked. Edamura nodded.

“Of course it does! And of course I wouldn’t seriously ask for someone to massage my feet! It’s just… something I always say when I want to be mean. I think people hate massaging feet because it is gross,” he admitted. Laurent raised his eyebrows.

“Massaging your feet would seem anything but gross to me,” he replied, and Edamura gasped when Laurent placed his feet in his lap and resumed the massage.

“Nonono I m-mean I really dohohon’t want - I’m too ticklish hahaha!” Edamura giggled uncontrollably.

He had turned himself around and clung to one of his pillows, desperate to pull his feet free from Laurent’s ticklish ‘massage’. 

“That’s totally alright. I can still massage you, even if you are ticklish. I don’t mind,” Laurent said, and Edamura totally spotted the teasy tone in his voice.

“Buhut I dohoho! S-Stop ticklihing me!”

By now, he was certain this wasn’t a massage anymore. Laurent’s fingers were moving against his soles in what totally felt like a deliberate tickle attack. This was not okay. 

“Not tickling, massage Edamame. A massage specially for you. Now hold still,” Laurent said.

If Edamura wasn’t mistaken, the tickling got even worse. His eyes widened when Laurent started to strip his feet from ‘I heart NY’ as well. Nooo!

“You suuuhuhuck!” he cried out, pounding the bed and struggling, kicking and thrashing with all he got - which wasn’t much. He was tired, and... he was just ticklish.

“You offend me, Edamame,” was Laurent’s teasy reply to the ‘you suck’ insult, and Edamura wanted to die when he felt how short nails started to scrape against the bare skin of his soles that was now slowly revealed.

“AAHhaha! No Laahaha-Laurent! It tihihickles!” he whined, throwing his head back and squealing for his life.

He heard Laurent chuckle and he blushed even more. Aagh! 

“Excuse me?” Laurent stopped tickling him for a second to look up at the source of the sudden third voice in the room. Kudo was standing there, smiling at them.

“I was asked to check if Edamura wanted to join for dinner, but I guess he won’t? What about you, Laurent?”

Edamura gaped at the old man like an idiot. “I’m good, thanks. We’ll see you later!” Laurent replied. Edamura watched speechlessly how Kudo headed back towards the door.

“No, wait! Help, he’s tickling me!”

Edamura shamelessly called out after him, but just before closing the door, Kudo popped his head back in and said: “You should tickle him under his toes Laurent, or even in-between. I’ve heard those do well. See ya!”

Disgusting old man! 

“Heard him~” Laurent chirped, and he easily pinned his feet down with one arm around his ankles, and tickled his now bare feet, aiming for his toes.

“AHAah- fahahack-noooo!” Edamura roared. 

“Hohow did heehe eheheven-!” he shouted but was cut off by his own never-ending giggles. 

“Like I said, I have connections here which mean the others do too. You would as well if, you know, this wasn’t just your own room. Hmm. Seems effective,” he said when he traced a few fingers under his toes, and Edamura literally shrieked. 

“Fuhuhck youuu!” he ranted through endless laughter. 

“That’s bold, Makoto. Fuck you too~ But let’s not rush it.”

Wait, what? Edamura could hardly think. There was so much going on: Being tickled, being teased, having his name called by Laurent instead of the stupid nickname, and his head couldn’t get around that last remark. Did Laurent mean he wanted to fuck him? No, probably not.

“AHAhaha lehehet go! S-Stop Lahahaurent!” he squealed, and finally he did stop.

Still embracing his ankles, Laurent watched how Edamura slowly stopped giggling, until all that came out were gaspy little breaths.

“You - are - so mean,” Edamura whined. Laurent rubbed the tops of his feet soothingly, which still tickled damn it, but not as bad. He could handle it.

“I hear that a lot,” Laurent said smugly. “You okay?” he asked when all Edamura replied with was heavy panting.

“Yeah,” he whispered, nodding.

“Still alive?” 

“Yeah.”

“Ticklish anywhere else?”

“Yeah.”

Edamura’s eyes widened. 

“I mean no- NO you bahahaastard I hahate you!” he cried when Lauren’ts tickly fingers suddenly sped up his legs, chasing after his knees and thighs and oh nooo not another round! 

Having Laurent after his inner thighs was also really a bad thing. It was such an intimate place to be touched and here this blond bastard was, tickling him there!

“NOhohot thehere! L-Laurehehent gehehet off!” Oh nooooo, panic. Abort mission, whichever mission that was! Laurent was now hugging his upper legs and continuing the attack on his thighs and his hips, looking up at him with that smirk. 

Oh no, even if Laurent’s tickly fingers hadn’t gotten to his stomach yet, Edamura definitely knew there were butterflies tickling him there from the inside.

“You are so cute,” Laurent commented with those intense eyes continuing to stare at him. 

“FAhaha-fuhuuck you!” he cried out again.

Fuck, this better be Laurent flirting with him because he was not going to accept this if it wasn’t. So, he did the only reasonable thing he could do. Which… seemed more reasonable for him in the heat of the moment than it ever would for bystanders, probably.

He forcefully grabbed the blond bastard’s hair, pulled him upwards which couldn’t have been entirely painless - sorry not sorry, and kissed him on the lips. 

“Hmph-!” With wide eyes, and thankfully with his fingers motionless, Laurent remained frozen until Edamura deepened the kiss, dragging Laurent up further and moving his lips, even adding a little bit of tongue.

He blushed as he kissed him. Oh lord. How was he even doing this, why was he- oh. Never mind. All was good, nothing wrong here: Laurent kissed him back.

Thank god. Before he knew it, Laurent was further on top of him on better level, and they were kissing intensely.

Laurent’s knee ended up between his legs, their tongues were battling for their horny lives and wow- Laurent grabbed both his hands and pinned them above his head with one. Edamura tingled at how dominant he appeared to be, but he was having none of that.

He had a few tricks up his sleeve too. He threw up his hips, grinding against him, and he smirked when Laurent moaned in the kiss.

Bingo.

Teasing him some more, he was unprepared for the hand on his ribcage, fingers digging.

“You really are ticklish anywhere, hm?” Laurent breathed in-between the kisses. Jerk.

Edamura felt how he giggled into the kiss, weak against the teasy tickles on his midriff, and he squirmed under him. He felt he was getting hard already, shit. Maybe tickling wasn’t that bad after all and- 

“Ahem.” 

Both of them froze, saliva dripping in-between them as they broke apart from the kiss. Laurent released his hands and they both turned their heads, just to see Cynthia and Abigail staring at them. 

“We… were wondering if you guys really didn’t want to come for dinner since we found this amazing all you can eat place but….” Abigail muttered. 

“I guess you guys are already eating all you can,” Cynthia said, and she winked.

“Don’t mind us then. Byeee~” Edamura stared in shame and embarrassment at the two ladies leaving again. Oh no. 

“HOW many people own a key to my room?!!” he barked, and Laurent laughed. 

“I’m sorry. I really am. I wish they wouldn’t have interrupted either,” he said, a charming smile on his face.

“No one has the key to mine,” he then said.

Edamura blushed, looking up at him. “Y-You mean…” he mumbled shyly.

“I can have you all to myself tonight. What do you say?” he asked.

Edamura swallowed. He definitely knew he would get more hot kisses like this. Possibly sex. Also, more tickling, but if it was part of the package deal, why not. And more sex, hopefully. In all good privacy.

“I accept,” he said, grinning. 

“Good.” Laurent then lifted him and carried him out of the room and towards his own. There, as promised, they spent the rest of the night with just the two of them with no more interruptions.

[valberryy]

reupload from..... a prev sideblog 🙈 if anyone recognises this yes that was me also sorry i really liked it and wanted to have it here too ..... nari please surprise me when i lose 50/50 i need u to find scarabs for me xoxo

content warnings: none

when TIGHNARI first sees the crescent-moon curve of your smile, he feels something flutter in his stomach — and he thinks himself ill.

perhaps he had mistaken the side effects of eating that particular mushroom in excess... but if that were the case, he doubts you'd be so cheerfully strumming away at your lute, or smiling so playfully at him when your eyes meet. perhaps it was something else, he elects to think — but try as he might to retrace his steps, recall each erroneous flora or fauna or spreading withering zone, the only constant he can find is you.

you, and all your cheeky retorts to match his snide comments, your embarrassed smile as you caught up to him on patrol, wringing the rain out of your clothes, your once near-unbearable presence by his fireside now one of the few things he longs for in your absence. when had he grown so fond of you, he wonders?

tighnari purses his lips. your gaze catches his own again, and once more he's faced with the sight of your crescent-moon smile, striking his heart quick and true, like an arrow notched from his bow.

...perhaps it would be easier if his problem really was with the mushrooms.

[t4thotchniss]

in case anyone was wondering, yes @maschotch screenshots every single second of every single ep and if criminal minds ever gets taken down, she will be able to single handedly reupload the entire series solely from her screenshot folder

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

pick me

Fiance!Jung Jaehyun x Fiancee!Reader

Summary: After getting engaged, Johnny and Taeyong keep fighting over who gets to be the best man

Word Count: ~1k

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you read this before... I reuploaded because the tags didn’t work :(

--

When Jaehyun proposed it was quite the ugly day outside- rainy, stormy, dark, and gray. By no means was the proposal even close to what Jaehyun had even thought, but they say when the moment is right, the moment is right. While the weather outside was less than ideal, Jaehyun was just so overcome with his love for you while you cuddled him that he just asked you to marry him. Of course, you said yes.

Now months later the awe of the engagement had yet to wear off, “I still can’t believe this, I’m still so happy.” You smiled cuddling into Jaehyun’s side, staring at the engagement ring on your finger. 

He pressed a kiss to your temple, “Is it too soon to start planning?” 

“Jaehyun! You haven’t told anyone besides our parents yet, there’s no rush babe.”

“Haven’t told anybody what?” Yuta asked.

“Hi by the way,” Doyoung added as he and the rest of 127 filed into your and Jaehyun’s shared apartment. 

“Did you invite them?” Jaehyun whispered to you.

“No, I thought that maybe you had and just forgot to remind me.” You replied under breath before getting up to greet the guys. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Jaehyun asked. 

“Hyung, I missed you!” Haechan whined, throwing himself into Jaehyun’s arms. 

“Hello, Haechan.” You smiled.

“Ok I lied, I missed Y/N more. If you ever get tired of him, you know where to find me.” Haechan winked playfully.

Jaehyun chuckles nervously, “Uh well, I- we actually have something to tell you guys about-”

“Y/N, is that an engagement ring?!” Mark exclaims as he pulls your hand into his hold to examine your ring, eyes big as he pulled your hand closer to his face. 

The room became chaotic, the guys crowding around you to examine the ring for themselves while asking a million questions at once. 

“Why did nobody tell us?” Taeil asked.

“It was spur of the moment honestly, I had an idea in mind for how I wanted to propose, but when I did it, it just felt right. Nobody besides our parents know anyways, we were going to get around to telling you guys… eventually.” Jaehyun explained.

“We were actually just talking about that as you guys were coming in.” You added.

“I call the best man!” Johnny shouted. 

“No! Jaehyun will pick me.” Taeyong pouted. 

“Well, if you guys get to be Jaehyun’s best man then I get to be Y/N’s maid of honor,” Jungwoo added. 

“I want to be the one that objects!” Haechan yelled, earning a glare from Jaehyun.

This of course led to a whole new wave of chaos. Everybody arguing over the roles that they would have at a wedding that wasn’t close to being planned just yet. 

—

Now months later and months before the wedding, both of you were going over the schedule for what was done and needed to be done for the wedding. Thanks to a wedding planner, his mom, and just overall your excitement and eagerness to get married, things were right on track. Probably even a bit ahead of schedule. Except for one thing, Jaehyun had yet to pick all of his groomsmen. He had chosen a cousin of his and one of his childhood friends that he talked to pretty regularly, but still no best man. 

Though Taeyong and Johnny did try very hard to win the both of you over. A week after the guys came to visit, Taeyong sent flowers to his favorite couple on the planet, but most importantly both of his best friends ever. Johnny took you and Jaehyun on lunch dates about twice a month, not so casually bringing up the vacant role of best man every single time, always pairing the question with a puppy dog look. When Taeyong heard about that, we started coming by with breakfast and wedding magazines every once in a while, mentioning that his sister had them accidentally mailed to the dorm. So Johnny took to creating vision boards and plans for the wedding, even “accidentally” crashing the first meeting with the wedding planner, bringing up the fact that he paid very close attention to both your dreams for the wedding.

“I just don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.” Jaehyun sighed, hands running down his face.

“Babe, they love you. I’m positive they won’t be mad at you for not picking them. Worst case scenario, we renew our vows every five years and you switch the best man every time. Don’t worry, my love, they will be there for you no matter what.” You reassured. 

And while it didn’t feel like you said a whole lot, your comforting words did help Jaehyun make his decision- though it did take a lot of thought and a restless night or two. 

“You’re probably wondering why I called this meeting.” Jaehyun started.

“No, not at all actually, we’ve been waiting for you to choose your best man,” Johnny replied. 

“Yeah, it’s about time our bribes brought us here, so, who is it?” Taeyong asked.

Jaehyun went on and on for a while explaining to them how much they each meant to him, and while even if he did not pick one to be the best man, he’d be more than happy to have the other be a groomsman. They were both his best friends, and even though one would be the best man and the other wouldn’t he would still love for both of them to join him on his special day.

“So… Johnny, will you be my best man? And Taeyong hyung, will you be my last groomsman?” Jaehyun finally asked.

“Yes, of course! It was the vision board, wasn’t it? God, it was! I knew I really got you both when I showed you that hydrangeas might be a better filler flower for the centerpiece arrangements than a simple baby’s breath.” Johnny smiled widely, puffing out his chest.

“I’ll gladly be your groomsman Jaehyun, thank you. I’ll just step up my game when Doyoung is getting married, or use force.” Taeyong trailed off. 

“Or who knows, maybe I’ll just be the best man at everybody’s weddings!” Johnny laughed.

“Like hell, you will, not at mine you won’t!” Taeyong argued.

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that won’t we?”

“I should have chosen Mark.” Jaehyun sighed.

[peterrparrkerr]

Stockholm syndrome - read on ao3

Tagging: @lokitonypeter @just-things-things @thegreenmetblue @someonepostedart @andacheesyoneliner @bluestarker @lilcoffeecup @useless-fanfictions-for-mcu @tnpt @sarcastich

Sorry, I meant to put this on a scheduled post and it posted anyway so I'm reuploading it.

*-*

Peter doesn't know what he expects when he walks into the interrogation room, but its not Tony Stark.

The man had been missing for over a year -his case now collecting dust with the other cold cases.

The man who once owned Stark Industries -the man who was nominated hottest man alive five years in a row, most eligible batchelor, billionaire playboy.

Peter has seen him on TV, had read the tabloids, the magazines. Tony Stark was worshipped by most, and many people claimed he was taking over the world with his high tech weapons.

The man Peter was looking at now was not that Tony Stark. This man was thin, malnourished, pale. His hair had grown out from an obvious at-home cut, his face scruffy with an unkempt beard.

He was wearing ratty jeans held up by a belt that looked ready to snap at any second, and a tshirt that looked like it hadn't been washed in years.

Peter didn't know what to do. What to say. He shut the door behind him, making his way over to the once-great man.

The man that had been missing for nearly two years.

"I'm detective Parker," Peter started, keeping his voice soft as he sat down in the chair opposite Tony, setting the file down in front of him.

The man didn't even acknowledge Peter. "I'm with the New York police department, I'm gonna be in charge of your interview. Can I get you anything to drink? Are you hungry?"

He waited for Tony to respond, but after a while it was clear he wouldn't.

"Can you tell me what happened the day you went missing?"

The man is hunched in on himself, looking down at the table between his wrists.

Peter sighed. "Hey, Tony, its alright now. You're safe here."

"M'not."

Peter almost missed the mumble. He sat up a little straighter, leaning into his elbows on the table.

"He's not going to get you here," Peter said, trying anything to get the man to open up to him.

"Yes," the man whispered. "Yes he is."

"I promise, he wont," Peter said. "You're safe here. No one will get you."

This time, the man lifts his eyes, looking at Peter with a desperate gleam.

"He's gonna come back for me," he said, voice gaining volume as his hands begin to shake. "He's coming for me."

Peter shakes his head. "He wont-"

"He promised!" Tony snapped, slamming a first onto the table. Peter jolts, eyes widening. "He promised he'd come back for me."

Tony's eyes fill with tears and he quickly wipes them from his cheeks as they fall.

"Tony," Peter said, feeling his chest tighten. "He's not going to come back for you."

Tony shook his head. "No, no, you're wrong. Beck-Beck told me he loved me. He told me- he's coming back for me."

"Tony, he didnt love you, he abducted you," Peter explained, voice soft with sympathy. "He left you. He's not coming back."

"He is," Tony says wetly, sniffling as tears flowed freely from his eyes. "Hes coming back, he told me he'd come back. He loves me. We're in love, can't- can't you see?"

Peter doesn't know what to do. He's never had a case involving stockholm syndrome before. But Tony's getting upset, and there's a strong chance he'll get violent.

Peter -thinking quick on his feet- decides to change tactics.

"I believe you," he says, watching as Tony settles at his words, blinking at Peter. "I believe you, Tony."

Peter glances down at the file in front of him before pulling out a sheet of blank paper and settling it on top of the closed folder.

"How about I help you find him," Peter suggests softly. "He probably doesn't know you're here, but I can go get him."

Tony glances around the interrogation room, realizing what Peter means.

"Yes, I want Beck," he says.

"Okay, good," Peter smiles. "I can go out and find him for you, and bring him here. Do you know where he lives?"

"He doesn't want anyone to know," Tony shakes his head. "He gets upset when people come to the door."

Peter nods, faking understanding. "Do you think if I told him I knew you, he'd come to the door?"

Tony seems to think for a moment before nodding. "Yes, he will," he says. "Beck is probably looking for me. He's probably so worried. I never leave the house. He's probably wondering where I am."

"Where do you two live?" Peter asked. "Do you know?"

Tears fill Tony's eyes as he shakes his head.

"Thats okay," Peter reassured. "He drove you, didn't he? You guys drove to the park, right?"

Tony nodded. "Yes," he said. "Beck wanted to have a special day."

"Good," Peter smiled. "Thats good. Do you know how long you drove for, before you got to the park?"

"I don't know."

"Thats alright," Peter said. "Do you know what kind of car he was driving? So I know if I see it?"

"Uh," Tony tapped his fingers against the metal table with anxiety. "Blue, and, and it was a truck."

"A blue truck," Peter repeated, writing it down. "Did it have a logo on the front? Maybe on the steering wheel?"

"I don't remember," Tony shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes again.

"Thats okay," Peter smiled. "You're doing great, Tony."

"I just- I just want Beck, please, I want to go home."

Peter feels his heart break at that, but he forces himself not to show it.

"I know," Peter nods. "I'm going to do everything I can to get him here, okay? I promise."

Tony gives a small nod, wiping at his eyes.

"What does he look like?" Peter continued. "I'll need to know who to look for."

"Uh, tall," Tony said. "Almost my height."

Peter gets a rough description of the man -Beck- from Tony. It takes lots of clarifying questions, but he gets enough to work with.

"Okay, thank you Tony," Peter smiles. "I'm going to have someone bring you some food and a blanket, okay?"

Tony looks up as Peter stands, tucking the file under his arm. "You're going to find Beck?"

"Yes," Peter nods, heading for the door. "You stay here, okay? Someone will be in soon with something to eat."

He shuts the door behind him and locks it before leaning his back against it, heaving a sigh.

"How'd it go in there?" Rogers asked, stepping over from the bullpen.

"He's bad," Peter sighs, stepping away from the door and running a hand through his hair. "I got a description of the man and the vehicle he was driving. I want to get a BOLO out on both."

Rogers nods, glancing at the door before following behind Peter.

"Do you still have the number of that psychologist? The one that works with victims of stockholm syndrome?"

"Yeah," Rogers nods, rifling through his desk as Peter drops into his chair. "You think the guy's sympathetic to his captor?"

"He's in love with him," Peter sighs, filling out a BOLO from his computer.

"Jeez," Rogers whistles.

"Give the psychologist a call, have her come over as soon as possible. The sooner we get Tony to realize what's wrong, the better. I'm going to work the streets, see if I can find this Beck guy."

"Sure," Rogers says, picking the phone up from the receiver and pinching it between his shoulder and ear as he types.

"And see if we can get him a sandwich or something," Peter said, already heading for the door.

[jamiiviper]

The Jamil Essay

this is a reupload of a post i made a couple of weeks ago - previously it was an external link to a google doc, so it never showed up in any of the twst tags, but i worked so hard on this and i would really love it if more people read it, so i’m reuploading directly to tumblr.

to put it simply, this is a 3.7k word character analysis purely about jamil. and even with a word count like that i wasn’t quite able to cover everything i wanted to say, so who knows, maybe there’ll be a part 2 one day. i’ve also decided i do want to write a kalim version, so i’ll probably start working on that sometime soon! stay tuned!

trigger warnings: mentions of child abuse

jamil is the vice dorm leader of scarabia, who’s been kalim’s caretaker practically since birth. he puts on a facade of not standing out, preferring to remain completely average, and plans his life around kalim’s antics. as we learned in chapter 4, however, his true feelings are that he bears a lot of resentment towards kalim, and that he wants to stand out - he just wasn’t allowed to, as he can never surpass kalim.

in this essay i want to cover not just my personal interpretation of jamil, but also some common misconceptions that people tend to have about him. twitter doesn’t have this problem as much, but with tumblr i’ve found that there are very few jamil stans, especially in the theory and writing communities - meaning it’s quite common for people to misunderstand his character. in the fandom as a whole, it’s common for people to only acknowledge him insofar as “gay for kalim”. 

firstly, jamil’s character development in the main story - i would say he’s arguably the best-developed character in twst, since yana now has enough chapters available to flesh out characters after their main story arc ended. jamil holds very deep-seated resentment against kalim, to the point that he plotted to betray him for probably several years. he plotted to have kalim not just thrown out of nrc, but thoroughly ruin his reputation in the process. after his overblot, those feelings did not magically vanish - far from it. i think earlier twst chapters suffered from arcs being wrapped up a little too neatly post-overblot, but pomefiore’s arc has already proved itself to be the exception and thoroughly covers not just jamil’s continued dislike for kalim, but also the wider consequences for what he did.

since the twst school year begins in september, we know jamil is about 9 months older than kalim. from literally the day kalim was born, jamil’s life has been dedicated to kalim. possibly since the day jamil was born, and he was always fated to be kalim’s caretaker. it may even have been the reason he was born at all. either way, it’s not like he remembers those 9 months. all jamil has ever known is that his sole purpose must be to serve kalim. he must not have desires of his own, he must not do anything for himself - from childhood he was expected to be ready to give up his life for kalim at a moment’s notice. he can’t be good at anything - kalim must always be better (i’ll cover this in more depth in a later paragraph, this philosophy is key to his character). his own parents drilled this into him, even going to the extent of hitting him if he didn’t comply. it seems he has a normal relationship with his family despite this - he bickers with his sister like regular siblings, and pre-overblot he indicated that his desire to be free from servitude wasn’t just about him, he wanted to free his family. nonetheless, the psychological damage his childhood caused him is severe. is it any wonder his unique magic is mind control, when he’s never had an ounce of control over his own life?

moving onto his early teen years, we know both jamil and kalim were severely poisoned at one point, both falling into comas for around two weeks. although we don’t have a timeframe for jamil’s coma, we know kalim’s was when they were around 13 years old. if jamil’s was around this age too - probably a short while afterwards - i think it’s plain to see why jamil’s resentment began to build. he’d have been around the age where he first started to question why his life has to revolve around kalim. why should he be expected to die for someone he doesn’t even like, who’s spoiled and doesn’t realise how much jamil does for him? kalim takes everything for granted: status, friendships, freedom, and jamil is meanwhile left in the shadows with nothing. then one day kalim gets poisoned so badly he falls into a coma - how much do you want to bet jamil was blamed for that, at the age of 13? after that he’s expected to taste-test anything kalim eats beforehand, and eventually starts making all his meals for him because the risk of poison is so high otherwise. then one day he slips up, or it’s an undetectable poison, and jamil is the one to fall into a coma. is anyone blamed for that? does anyone pity jamil outside of his immediate family + kalim? no, probably not. after all, he’s just doing his duty, right? it’s truly… no wonder jamil’s resentment became so intense. he finally has proof that his life truly does not matter. although kalim certainly cares about him, he doesn’t understand jamil’s position. he sees jamil as a friend, an equal; jamil knows this can never be the case, and he also knows kalim is too privileged to ever hope to understand. 

fast forward on a couple of years to jamil receiving his nrc acceptance letter. he thinks that finally, finally he’s going to be free. four years of freedom - and who knows, maybe after that he can be free forever! he can finally excel at his classes and be his true self, without fear of upstaging kalim! 

and then kalim gets accepted a month late. for no reason other than his surname. 

and then kalim gets sorted into his dorm.

it’s a miracle he didn’t just overblot on the spot - but that’s his nature as a scarabia student. careful foresight and planning. this moment was, undoubtedly, the moment he started planning his betrayal. he had his one month of freedom ripped away, just like that. 

oh, don’t forget the fact that not long after, kalim was made dorm leader not because he notably embodies scarabia values at all, but because of nepotism. (side note: most scarabia stans agree kalim does actually reflect scarabia values, just not as obviously as jamil does, but either way jamil himself wouldn’t see it this way. this is a jamil essay so i won’t go in depth about this unless asked to!)

under kalim’s watch, scarabia - known for its intelligence and cunning - is turned into “the party dorm”. this seems to be the fandom’s perception of them too - i mean, just ask any non-scarabia stan what goes on in scarabia, that’s probably the answer they’ll give you. jamil would have probably loved the original scarabia; although we don’t know much about it, we know scarabia students are on a par with octavinelle when it comes to intelligence (paralleling azul’s constant interest in jamil). yet by winter break, scarabia is doing so badly in those same exams that they didn’t even place in the rankings…? without meaning to, kalim clearly harmed scarabia. instead of getting chance to study magic and show off, jamil is now essentially an unpaid, full-time party planner by the time his second year starts.

a few months later, winter break finally arrives, and jamil executes his plan to dethrone kalim. i may have just spent the last two pages defending jamil’s grudge, but his actions themselves are still indefensible. there’s evidence to suggest kalim knew what was occurring on some level - refusing to answer jade’s question about who was hypnotising him proved that 1) he probably had some idea deep down that jamil was betraying him 2) he doesn’t want jamil to get in trouble for it. nonetheless, this does not make what jamil did okay in the slightest, even if kalim allowed it to happen. jamil is, undoubtedly, the bad guy in this situation, no matter how sympathetic his childhood makes you feel. i could go into detail about why kalim acted the way he did, but again, this is jamil-focused.

i’ll skip talking about his overblot, because i covered his hatred for kalim in a lot of depth already and i want to talk about the general aspects of his personality like his desire for praise later on. so moving onto the end of chapter 4, we see jamil’s true self: a snarky, heavily opinionated boy who honestly just wants to be free to be himself.

but just like his freedom, that side of jamil once again only lasts for a brief moment. jamil almost loses everything after his overblot. practically every scarabia student hates him and wants him thrown out of the dorm - even kalim, his sole defender, can’t call him a good person. he’s a traitor. he says he trusts the scarabia students to work out that it’s better for them if he stays, but that day won’t come any time soon, and until then he’s keeping his distance from them all, because their hatred is that strong. if azul truly had been streaming to more people than just jade, his life would have been ruined beyond repair. so what does jamil do? he goes back to serving kalim. as a scarabia student, his foresight is good enough that he knows the option he hates the most is the only one that’ll be good for him in the end. for jamil, being himself is nothing short of a death sentence.

now i’ve talked for far too long about the timeline of his character arc, i can finally get to the good stuff: jamil’s personality, and how it’s changed throughout the stories we’ve seen so far.

the first thing that springs to mind when you think of jamil, other than “snake”, is probably “tired”. or “he’s going to snap”. something along those lines. which... yes, we know he is. he did snap. after chapter 4, this doesn’t seem to have changed too much, but i do get the impression that he’s somewhat less stressed out by kalim. his resentment has dissipated, for the most part (he does still openly insult him, though), so while he does grumble at kalim there’s no suppressed fury behind it. what replaced that fury?

guilt.

in 5-10, jamil tells azul that he intends to continue to obediently follow kalim around in order to restore his reputation, both inside and outside of scarabia. this does of course make him sound pretty selfish (as per usual), and in classic jamil fashion he doesn’t let his true emotions show, so it’s easy to take this at face value and assume he just doesn’t really care. i think in this case, we need to look more at his actions that we see throughout chapter 5. namely, the way it’s being emphasised how he’s silently watching kalim from afar - something he’s always done, yes, but yana seems to be really making a point of it in chapter 5. it’s not just kalim he’s distancing himself from, either. he’s staying away from the rest of the scarabia students too, as mentioned earlier. he never had any friends at all to rely on, even before his overblot. so by doing this, he’s effectively completely isolating himself. he clearly has a lot of thoughts about everything that he’s not sharing with anyone - just listen to the way he sighs at the end of the flashback in 5-10, how annoyed and frustrated he seems. if jamil was telling the truth about just wanting to restore his reputation, he’d probably appreciate kalim’s efforts, even if he dislikes kalim himself. he shouldn’t be upset by kalim persuading the scarabia students to give him another chance. not if he truly just wants to get back to normal. i think on some level, jamil feels incredibly guilty over his actions. he might not have even admitted to himself yet that he feels this way, and by saying things like “i just want to restore my reputation” he’s just trying to convince himself. after all, that’s something he has a history of doing.

ever since jamil’s first introduction, we’ve known jamil lives his life by the philosophy of “not standing out is the best way to succeed”. he hates standing out or receiving any kind of positive attention at all, because he thinks that it’ll only attract trouble. or so we thought, because as we learned from his overblot, jamil desperately wants to stand out. he’s powerful and intelligent, and he wants people to acknowledge that. he wants the praise and recognition he knows he deserves. this means that whenever he said he didn’t want to stand out, he was lying through his teeth - he probably constantly tried and failed to convince himself of this throughout his childhood. during his lab SR story, he even repeats it to himself in his thoughts, like a mantra - “I want to avoid standing out. I can’t be satisfied with this. I cannot be too good, nor fall behind, and neither should I get satisfactory grades or fail. This is the best shortcut to success.”. much like his feelings of guilt, jamil refused to acknowledge how much he truly wanted to show off, even in his own thoughts. he is awful at being honest to himself.

post-ch5, we find out that despite everything, jamil does still hold this philosophy, to some extent. he of course shows off his singing and dancing skills enough to be chosen as a main vocalist, and he says he wants to make a name for himself and show various people just how talented he truly is: kalim, his family, the asims and MC, to name a few. yet in the chapter before that, when kalim compliments his singing and dancing, he’s like “i don’t really want to stand out, but…”. which is honestly a little confusing at first because he does want to. i’d probably interpret it as something along the lines of he wants to show off to the people he cares about, but he still wants to keep his head down in general. so i think that to some extent, maybe he actually has internalised that philosophy now. the one time he truly expressed his desire to stand out, it ended in catastrophe for him. he has this tiny seed of doubt within him now, telling him his parents were right all along. but... he’s working past it, and applying himself as and when he’s comfortable doing so.

going back to him being bad at being honest, jamil’s a pretty big tsundere. there’s one person he does regularly receive praise from: kalim. yet despite desperately wanting to be praised, he often gets annoyed at kalim and tells him something like “this isn’t about me right now” or “what does that have to do with anything?”. plus when the praise is coming from kalim, it’s often in the context of kalim praising him to other people - as a servant, he can’t be seen accepting all these compliments, right? he can never be better than kalim. so he has to reject kalim’s praise. when it’s just the two of them alone, though, is when jamil gets embarrassed to the point he has to hide his blush under his hood. given his childhood, chances are that he doesn’t really know how to process being praised. he knows he wants people’s approval, but when he actually gets it, he just short-circuits. it was the same at his birthday celebration; although he wants to be the centre of attention, when it actually happens, he gets all embarrassed and tsun. i was trying not to let my own personal feelings spill in this but oh my god he’s so cute i can’t

next... this isn’t really linked to any previous topic, but i want to talk about jamil’s cooking! jamil cooks all of kalim’s meals, and regularly cooks entire feasts for kalim’s parties, too (as well as being in charge of getting any animals kalim wants to show off, decorating the dorm, making sure everything runs smoothly… you get the idea). his cooking is very good, and he has a lot of technical knowledge about cooking too - azul, whose parents run a restaurant, didn’t know about emulsification, but jamil was able to explain it to him. despite being so good, though, according to his dorm SSR homescreen lines he doesn’t actually like cooking very much. he says the fact that he cooks so much is “just how things turned out”. of course, he could just be being a tsun, but i do feel like he’s being honest with this - what reason does he have to seriously enjoy something he was forced into doing his entire life? However there is evidence that he might enjoy it after all; he’s particularly good at alchemy because of his cooking knowledge, and according to magical archives he’s completely neutral in motivation for both flying and history lessons, but has slightly higher motivation levels for alchemy, indicating that he can’t stop himself from putting a little bit extra effort into that class. i think it can be interpreted either way with the canon info we have currently, but regardless i would not say he’s the cooking fanatic people often depict him as. 

also, when jamil cooks, although his cooking is good, visually it’s usually very boring, to the point he and his sister would bicker over it. he has the technical skills to cook good food, but no idea how to present it. similarly, in his fairy gala SR he was told that although he perfectly memorised the dance, it was boring to watch - it looked like he was just executing the routine without any passion behind it. jamil is so emotionally repressed that he has no idea how to express his individuality. even in his bedroom, the only truly personal items he owns are a first aid kit (related to his servant position, not him as a human being) and a stereo + headphones set for dancing. he doesn’t have any other hobbies or interests - he doesn’t even know what people his age do for fun, because he’s never been allowed to think about such things. 

dancing is all jamil has that’s not directly related to serving kalim, really - but even that ties into his servant status. although he genuinely enjoys it nowadays and dances by himself for fun, he only picked it up as a hobby because kalim wanted to go to dance practice, and of course jamil had to accompany him. when his flashback after his overblot talks about him deliberately losing to kalim, the story focuses specifically on a dancing competition. which is why it’s honestly so important to jamil’s character that chapter 5 focuses on a singing and dancing competition. jamil finally has the chance not just to show off his skills in general, but his skills at the one thing he’s been allowed to love throughout his life. the one thing where losing to kalim at it hurt so much that it was such a prominent memory for him. when jamil was chosen as a main vocalist, he instinctively tries to say kalim would be better suited for the position, but stops himself and accepts it. it clearly means so much to him that he was chosen for this.

okay i started to scare people with how long this was getting when it was only 50% finished, i think if i write anymore people will actually be concerned for my health so i’ll leave it here. if you read all of this, thank you so much for putting up with my anime boy brainrot for over six full pages! i really.. really like jamil. again, i most certainly do not think his actions should be defended, but god if they’re not fascinating to read about. and i hope i covered the other sides to him well enough, the things that you’d never ordinarily pick up on because so few people talk about him outside of him and kalim as a pair (both platonic scarabia + romantic jamikali, i mean). he has so much depth to him that people don’t see and god i could easily have gone on for another few pages if i wasn’t forcing myself to stop. but please please talk to me if you want to hear more...

yana has treated him so well, jamil stans get too much food if anything but i’m absolutely thriving off it as you can see! thank you for allowing him to exist, yana-sensei!

having said that, i couldn’t stop myself from adding some extra facts about him below. please enjoy.

some fun jamil facts for your soul:

his sister used to bake him cookies on his birthday - specifically, these!

when jamil and kalim went to eat at the cafeteria with ruggie and leona, leona took one look at jamil and went “you look like you’d kill kalim in his sleep”

sebek and jamil find each other’s positions enviable. sebek wishes he could have been by malleus’ side from birth as jamil was with kalim, and jamil just… wishes he served someone he respected as deeply as sebek respects malleus (but he does think sebek is too enthusiastic)

jamil hates surprises with a burning passion, and despite being with kalim for 17 years is still not used to them. for his previous birthday, kalim held a huge surprise party, and i think he still hasn’t recovered from the shock

i think a lot of people already know that in his birthday SSR story he said he wanted a parrot after graduation so he could teach it to call him master, but it goes a bit further than that? it was actually first mentioned during his lesson chats, when kalim gets a parrot. jamil has to research how to care for it, and ended up wanting one of his own afterwards (but got too tsundere to admit it at the time).

also, he heard that the sorcerer of the sands’ parrot (iago) could speak as fluently as a human, and he got excited and watched a bunch of parrot videos on magicam, but was of course disappointed to find out that this was not the case.

he frequently uses flattery to try and get his way, like when he attempts to flatter vil during his SSR story - unfortunately he misjudged vil, as vil’s actually the type of person who hates meaningless flattery. because he does this so frequently, when he genuinely does give compliments people don’t always believe him.

according to the halloween event, jamil is surprisingly environmentally conscious, and insists on holding a sustainable halloween theme. after organising so many parties and seeing the waste they probably produce, i think there’s no wonder he’s so concerned about it.

[croscupsroom]

True Happiness (T, pre Sam/Castiel, 1.5 k.) True happiness lies in the mundane (and it’s bedtime for Sam and Castiel). Set some time after 14.08. Read on AO3.

AN: if it looks familiar, i have posted this before but accidentally deleted that account. thought i'd reupload it since i put it on AO3.

AN: short mention of cas having skipped meals, towards the end.

In the evenings now, Castiel likes to go down to Sam’s room, and hangs out in it doing quiet activities or watching TV until Sam comes to bed. They’ve had this routine for a while, only skipping nights when the brothers are out of town. This time, it’s not exactly the evening — more like the middle of the night, not that long before it crisps into early morning.

Sam doesn’t have the healthiest of sleep schedules. He sleeps too little, at imprecise hours. That doesn’t bother Castiel. He doesn’t sleep at all, so Sam’s lack of habits doesn’t inconvenience him. What preoccupies him is Sam’s health. He listened to a podcast episode, once, that detailed how exactly lack of sleep could impact human bodies. Hearing that made him think of Sam, sluggish; of the cogs in his brain rickety from too few hours of rest. It made him worry about future outcomes.

“Alright, Dean,” Sam says from outside his bedroom door. This signals the end of a conversation Castiel wasn’t privy to. Like most of theirs, really.

Cas sits on the bed, legs extended in front of him. His shoes are on the floor, by the bottom of the bed. He’s wearing pajamas. Something tells him that the flannel feels pleasant, where it falls on the outside of his shell.

The last time they went to Goodwill together to shop for Jack, Sam pointed out the set on the rack. Maybe you’ll like this better than sitting in your clothes all night long , Sam said like the subject might bristle Cas.

Castiel is an angel. Clothes are all the same to him. What the remark told him, though, was that it must bother Sam for him not to change himself at bedtime. Why else would he suggest it at all, or so cautiously? Castiel wondered if it was that the trench coat’s noise bothered him, whenever some of the polyester canvas rubbed on itself in soft scratches that made him cringe. Maybe it was that Castiel disrespected some social convention without realizing it, and Sam was hinting at some way to fix it.

Looking at the flannel on the hanger, Castiel wondered if it was that Sam might want him to get undressed at night, and act as though they were going to bed together.

Of course , Castiel said then. I’d like that better.

You sure? Sam retreated, like he was worried that he had pushed Cas too far, and forced his answer.

I am, yes. I’m sure this sleepwear will be more comfortable. That was a lie, but one that he hoped would reassure his friend.

Sam, swelling up in relief, put the pajamas in the cart and waited for Castiel to follow him to the next rack.

Since then, Castiel changed into the pajamas in the evening before Sam turned in for the night. They developed their own little rituals, like maybe Sam was hoping to by suggesting the pajamas in the first place.

“What’re you watching?” Sam asks. The TV’s on, the volume barely above a whisper. He kicks off his shoes, his feet now bare on the concrete.

“I’ve been rewatching Arrested Development.”

“Oh, yeah? Again?”

They first watched it together years ago, when Castiel started spending his evenings in Sam’s room. He rewatches it sometimes on his own. Even after all these times, it still eludes him.

“The humor puzzles me.”

“Yeah. I can see it being hard to take in.” The remark could come off as condescending, but it doesn’t. Sam is trying to understand where Cas is coming from.

As Sam begins brushing his teeth at the sink, Castiel pauses the show. Sam has his back to Cas, and his eyes are focused on the porcelain below. He doesn’t own a pajama set — he always just puts on sweatpants and an old t-shirt for bed.

Sometimes, it seems like Sam is more weathered every time he comes into Castiel’s consciousness. He’s very different from the young man Castiel met not so long ago — a dull translucent rock, from what was once a sharp-edged fragment of a glass bottle.

Castiel hasn’t spent much time thinking about the effects of underground living on human morale. He imagines it can’t be too good, living in a bunker without windows like Sam and Dean do. Troglobites are hardly the most vibrant lifeforms. Human societies, if they can help it, do not choose this environment for themselves. If he tried, Castiel could surely find a podcast episode available about the subject — something about miners maybe, and their getting hopelessly stuck in a shaft somewhere. But that wouldn’t help. That’s nothing like Sam’s situation at all.

“Do you want to finish the, uh, documentary series?” he asks. They started that one a few nights ago. These past two, Sam shook his head no when Cas asked him, saying he was too tired. He’s about to do the same, but seems to think better of it.

“Yeah, sure.” They have three episodes left. They can get through at least one tonight.

Usually, Castiel lays on top of the bed, postured impeccably, while Sam slouches underneath the covers. This time, Sam holds up the sheets for longer than usual after he gets in, as an invitation. So. Castiel tucks his legs alongside Sam. The bed is a double — not exactly meant for two men’s size — so their physical closeness is pure happenstance. Sam’s head resting on his upper arm, as it is right now, is the most they ever touch.

“Play it,” Sam says. He gestures vaguely to the remote in Castiel’s hand.

The series exposes an unsolved string of murder, the botched investigation, and the cover-up around it. It’s quite harrowing. Castiel is always amazed at how Sam will relax by listening to the most gruesome stories. Often, he’ll fall asleep to episode collections of Forensic Files. Castiel will turn it off for him, once he’s out.

At the end of the episode, Sam is already almost asleep, his lids heavy .

“Sam, you should go to sleep,” Castiel tells him, prying him off his side.

Sam nods, yawns again. Castiel turns off the TV, then hands Sam the remote so he can put it on his side of the bed.

As he turns to lay back down, Sam stops for a moment, resting on his elbow, turned towards his friend. “Hey, Cas,” he murmurs. His eyes are quiet and waiting, in the dim light. “You know, uh. I really like it when you spend the night with me, you know that?”

Castiel doesn’t know that. Sam’s never said that, not in so many words. It’s just something they’ve been doing. It’s nice to have this time just for themselves, to do things that aren’t related to killing anyone.

“I like spending my nights here, too,” Castiel replies. He means it. “Do you want the light on or off?”

“On is fine, thanks. Night, Cas.”

“Alright.”

He usually says that, as a courtesy, if Castiel doesn’t keep watching TV after he’s gone to sleep. Cas can see just as well in the dark, after all  — he’s not constrained by the visible light spectrum.

Castiel picks up the book by his bedside. Sam lent it to him, after he said he was looking for a novel to read. It’s a quiet activity that passes the time at night, so he can stay beside Sam without bothering his sleep. Sam’s copy is the English version of the novel, translated from Kikuyu by the author himself. If he wanted to, Castiel could easily read the original. Human languages are all more or less one and the same, or so he’s observed for himself. He thinks about the myriad of dead languages Sam can decipher, and the countless living ones he’ll never understand. Maybe it’s about picking his battles. Kikuyu would come in handy less often than Latin or Aramaic in his line of work.

In any case. Castiel hasn’t considered seeking out the original in any serious way. He likes the idea of reading from Sam’s copy, dog-earing the pages along the same creases, seeing which passages he underlined.

Castiel leans back against the headboard. His foot rests somewhere along Sam’s shin.

This is a nice moment. He likes living it.

Almost unnoticeably, the world around Castiel dims.

A blip brings him back. He collects his presence. He checks on Sam sleeping beside him, and the weight of the room. It all feels odd — like he’s just an inch aside from himself.

Just now, Castiel felt as though he was falling backwards, although his body remained upright, solid. Like he was caught over the eyes by shadowy hands and yanked backwards, speeding through sludge, caving into the outline of himself. It reminded him of when he was human, and hadn’t eaten enough.

He’s not human, however. His body can’t get weak from skipping meals. He has no use for food.

To his right, Sam is already asleep. His pretty head is turned towards Castiel, his hair spread on the pillow. Castiel will have to be more careful. Every time, the dimness lasts longer, becomes darker.

Castiel stares at the pages in his hands. “Good night, Sam,” he says.

[nymphigeon]

From me, to you || 02

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.4k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): swearing, crime, a sex club, mentions of murder, blood, mentions of hybrid abuse.

♤ A/N: Due to some complications I had to reupload it, sorry!

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you'll give it to him.

Series masterlist

01 02 03

After looking through the room for quite a while and bombarding Blair with more questions I decide to leave and get some air. A metallic smell, which was already present when I first arrived, had doubled it’s noticeability over time. That room became impossible to breathe in as a result. I’m not one to leave my work unfinished, but if I don’t get out I’ll die of blood poisoning, if that’s even a thing.

Looking out through the door of the club, it’s not hard to see that is has stopped raining. The blurriness the raindrops caused has completely disappeared along with all the flashing that was going on earlier. The reporters must have been told to get the fuck out or get arrested. I’m lucky, this gives me chance to step outside. To be completely honest, I would be lying if I said that it’s just to clear my head. For work related reasons it’s a good idea to always look around the crime scene as well, so that’s what I’m doing. Killing two birds with one stone.

I nod to the officers as I pass by and climb under the barricade tape to the outside. The smell of rain fills my nostrils as I walk in and out of alleyways around the area. Nothing interesting is found. No knife in a trash can, no paw prints of a shifted hybrid, nothing. How long has it stopped raining? If any traces were left outside the rain will have probably washed them away. I sigh as I give up on finding anything. I should just focus on finding them with the information I have now. We can always send out a sketch of the guy from what the employees told us.

The walkie talkie on my hip buzzes, indicating that different officers are trying to communicate with each other. It bothers me. Nothing of importance to me is said, but if I turn it off just to miss something I should know, my supervisor will kill me. She isn’t someone you’d want to mess with. Her authority has grown to her head, she’ll do whatever it takes to get her way.

A can standing right up on the sidewalk grabs my attention. The way it’s neatly placed at the side annoys me, someone deliberately left it there, ignoring the trash can standing right across the street. I pick it up and cross the street, standing a few feet away from the bin to practice my aim. Might as well use the opportunity right?

The can hitting the metal inside of the bin resonates through the silent and empty street. Even before the sound has had a chance to die down, a loud whimper replaces it, followed by hurried footsteps running away from me. Not so empty as I thought.

“Hello?” I give whoever is still close some time to reply. They don’t. Guessing the direction the sound came from proves difficult, but somewhere I made a right turn. Ending up behind a closed playground I didn’t even notice was in the vicinity, I pry myself through a hole in the fence protecting it. There isn’t much the fence is protecting as it looks like this place has been abandoned for a while. Broken slides and worn down ropes hanging from metal bars is basically all this old playground consist of.

The crunching of my shoes on sand elicits another pained whimper from the creature. Not wanting to scare them, I try to talk them out of their hiding place first. “Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?” No response. “I just want to help you.” Again, no response.

Having no other choice, I decide to search for them instead. I can’t though, not when they sound so desperate. As soon as I step a bit further into the sand a frantic voice stops me. “No, no, please…” Immediately backing up two steps, I almost crash into the fence behind me. “Okay, okay I won’t come closer.”

Not wanting to sit on the wet sand, I to squat down, sitting on my heels. “Whenever you’re ready you can come out okay? I won’t hurt you.” Remembering the walkie talkie on my hip, I turn it off. If there’s a good reason for me missing something important, they won’t get angry right? Thinking about the worst case scenario isn’t a good idea at this moment.

15 minutes pass. So far neither of us have moved. Now and then I’ll slightly adjust my position to let them know I’m still here waiting. At some point they must have started to get a teensy more comfortable, as a pair of eyes unexpectantly make themselves known from behind one of the play towers. His dark yellow coloured eyes almost hide themselves under the bangs hanging from his head. Two big striped cat shaped ears lay flat on top. A tiger hybrid. Extremely rare and thus extremely valuable. There is absolutely no way someone just left a gold mine here like that.

I slowly bring up my hand to wave at the scared, but curious pair of eyes. They look me up and down a few times, probably trying to figure out if I’m really trustworthy. “Police?” The boy almost whispers. Or well, definitely an adult actually. I suddenly remember about the uniform I’m wearing. I smile at him and nod. “Yeah, something like that. Look..” With careful movements I point to the badge on my top. Not exactly that one of a police officer, close enough.

The hybrid stares for a few seconds before revealing his entire head. Part of his striped tail briefly comes into view when he does. “That way..” He points in a direction somewhere behind him. I follow his finger, but don’t find anything there. The fence at the other side limits my vision of the other side.

Sensing my confusion the tiger does his best to elaborate. “He went that way… Bad guy.” He brings his hand back to his chest, feeling too exposed having it point out. Something in my head clicks. The hybrid is wearing a hoodie. “Wait, you’re the hybrid? The one he was going to sell?” Hoping he won’t dash as soon as I move, I stand up. I’m in shape, nevertheless squatting for a long time still hurts. The hybrid nods hesitantly. “New owner.. also not nice” He whispers as he curls in on himself more.

“Will you let me come closer?” The hybrid shakes his head. “No, no, I didn't do anything... I didn't do anything..” He's absolutely terrified. Having witnessed two murders I can't blame him. Perhaps he thinks it's partly his fault. Did he attack them? “I know sweetheart, nobody is accusing you of anything. We just want to help, you won't go back to him anymore.”

When I was younger I worked with kids a lot. Trying the same technique as that I used at that time to calm them down appears to work. The hybrid stays quiet for a while, before lifting his hand, just sticking his pinkie out. “Promise?” Cute. I can't help the smile forming on my lips. Mimicking him I lift both my hands, interlocking my little fingers together. “Promise.”

A promise was all he needed, as the hybrid reluctantly reveals himself from behind the tower. I won’t gasp, I shouldn’t be surprised, yet I am. Wrapped around his neck like it’s trying to suffocate him, a dark, old looking collar is situated. A torn leash dangles from the black, belt-like item. Clearly, it’s evident a struggle has occurred.

What’s most worrying is the blood that’s decorating his left hand. His clothes are drenched in a liquid I can’t identify from simply looking at it, instead it’s better to use my nose. The familiar metallic smell radiating of the cloths is not a clue to be ignored. The red substance has already mostly dried on his hand, pieces flaking off as he rubs his hands together.

“Oh dear are you hurt?” I ask, concern evident in my voice. I get ready to grab my phone, if he has a gash underneath I need to call an ambulance whether he likes it or not. Shaking his head, he takes a few steps forward. “Not mine.” I visibly relax at his answer, nodding. I don't ask any further. There will be time for that later.

“I'm Y/F/N Y/L/N. You can call me whatever feels comfortable for you.” Earning his trust is my priority for now. This could be a breakthrough in the investigation. “Taehyung.” The hybrid boy gives me a name, progress. Understanding that he will want to keep his distance I move through the fence first, move away a bit, and then wait for him to come through.

The walkie talkie vibrates as it turns on. I can’t have anyone disturbing the peace, quickly letting my colleagues know I’ll be busy and will explain why eventually. Not giving anyone time to react, I turn the device back off. As expected, Taehyung wants to know where we’re going.

“Do you want to meet the other people I’m working with?” He looks pale, weak and tired. The last meal he has eaten most likely isn’t in the timespan of ��recently’. The last time he had a good full night of sleep? I wonder if he even knows what that means.

Taehyung has his arms securely wrapped around himself, protecting himself from any potential danger. There is none, but if you’ve been treated like a pile of dirt everything looks like it’ll hurt you. I know I can’t do anything aside from give him time. I wish it wasn’t like that.

“No..” That’s what I thought. Giving him a once over I determine that it’s best to get a professional to take a look at him first. “You know how I said I want to help you?” He nods. “I want to bring you to someone who will make sure you’re healthy. You can trust them, they won’t do anything you don’t like.” I cross my fingers behind my back. Not because I am lying, but because I’m hoping he agrees to the idea.

He’s doubtful about it at first, neither refusing or agreeing to go with me. “I promised.” By showing him the smallest finger on my hand, I’m hoping to convince him. Taehyung takes a few steps forward. Usually if a wild cat hybrid comes at you, you should probably run if you don’t want to end up as their lunch. Yes, there are reported cases of wild hybrids eating humans as disgusting as it sounds. I don’t though, I don’t move an inch. He lifts his hand and gently locks his pinkie around mine, checking my face to gauge my reaction. Smiling seems to give him reassurance, as he gives me a small smile back and nods. “Okay.”

I eventually convince Taehyung to wait by the fence so I can go get my car. There is no way he won’t panic with all the officers around. As I near my car, Blair calls out my name and runs over. “What happened? Did you find anything?” She mentions to what I said over the walkie talkie earlier.

I answer her quickly as I open and enter my car, not yet closing the door. “Found a scared, abused hybrid who witnessed, or maybe even committed, two murders and almost got sold an hour ago.” Blair’s eyes widen as she takes in the information. “You found the hybrid? Why? How? Where is it?”

My insides cringe at her calling Taehyung ‘it’, but I don’t have time to call her out now. Using my hand, I wave her off. Go do something more useful. “I’ll explain everything later.” Is all I say before I slam my door closed and drive off to the hybrid.

Taehyung is still standing where I left him a few minutes ago. I park my car in front of him and get out. The moment I step out he comes running over. “Doing okay?” He nods and smiles. I open the door to the passenger side for him and only close it when he sits comfortably. Once I’m in the other side of the car I google for the nearest hybrid friendly hospital.

There is one 20 minutes away, outside of town. Making sure Taehyung is okay one last time, I offer him a fruit bar I had laying in my bag. He tilts his head and point at himself. “For me?” His confusion startles me. “There is no one else here yes?” He takes the bar from me and stares at it, turning it around a few times. Inspecting the wrapper, sniffing it a bit, weighing the bar in his hands.

“I can eat this?” He asks again. “Yeah you must be hungry right? Please, eat it. I’ll get you something better later.” I take the bar from his hands to open the wrapper. While discarding the wrapper in my pocket I make a mental note to throw it away later. I give the bar back to the hybrid who doesn’t seem to understand it’s for him. “I can really eat this? Just like that?”

I notice a small smile making its way on his face after he has sniffed the bar a few more times. “Enjoy it.” He takes a small bite and looks at me. Once he is sure the action didn’t anger me he takes a bigger bite. “Thank you, I like it.” Following me allowing myself to watch him eat a bit longer, I start the car and make my way to the hospital.

You know, it’s a sentence I have heard often, ‘Without the dark there is no light’. Or maybe you’d rather use ‘Without sour there is no sweet’. What exactly are you trying to tell me? Should I be hurt just so that I can be happy? Does that mean it’s a good thing I’ve never known love? Surviving of the scraps the abusers feed me, so that I can reach the end of the tunnel. It’s a lie, there is no end for me.

I don’t deserve the praise because I’ll never learn how not to behave. Obviously the way to learn is to be broken beyond repair. We can’t have anything nice, I’ll never know how to appreciate it anyway.

Leave me alone, I still need to figure out how to feel content on my own. Don’t come closer, I still need to find a way to be delighted with distance between us. Stop talking, I still need to discover how to be joyful while silence surrounds me. Oh, how you’d wish I would comply.

I’ll stab a sword in your heart so I can grasp the concept of adoring you. I’ll make you scream so I can master treasuring your laugh. I’ll kill you so I can perceive how to value your life.

Taglist

@suhappysuho​ @intellectualxprincess​

[xbaepsae]

private tutor | part one

“You fall to your knees, hands clasped together, ‘Please, Namjoon; I’m willing to do anything.’ The last word causes him to look away from his book and down at you, taking in your rather pathetic self. A smirk stretches across his lips, ‘Anything?’”

[tutor!namjoon x reader]

genre: college!au, humor

word count: 3.8k

a/n: sooo, another reupload! originally, i only posted 2/3 parts because i never got around to finishing the final part aksjkajksd. but i’m working on that lol. in the meantime, i edited this part and part two will be up soon. enjoy! xoxo

part one / part two / part three

Well, this is awkward.

You had always considered yourself to be a rather good student. You made decently good grades in all of your classes and tried to attend them on a daily basis, but what you had not anticipated was this: a failing grade in chemistry. A big, fat red F marked the top of your grade report, and you had to do a double take to make sure you were seeing things right.

Not once in your life have you ever made anything below a C. This had to be the devil’s work, you were sure of it. Was it even possible to make an F? You put in effort into this class—it wasn’t like you weren’t trying.

“Y/n, you’re failing my class.”

Looking up at your professor, you can only manage a sheepish smile. “I can see that…”

“Care to explain?”

Biting your lip, you don’t really know what to say. Well, what could you really say? You thought that you were doing well in the class, but apparently you were assuming wrong. “I don’t really know.”

Your professor sighs, “Is it the concepts we’re learning in class? Are you not understanding them?”

“No, no,” you shake your head, “I understand the basics, but I guess when you ask us to apply everything together…I’m not really seeing the big picture.”

If you were to be honest with yourself, you absolutely hated chemistry. The basics—like the elements on the periodic table and electrons—were easy enough; but once different concepts got combined, your brain became a jumbled mess. A lot of math was involved and you hated that too. You really didn’t know why you had to take this class anyway because you for sure did not want to pursue a degree or future job in this field.

“The end of the grading period is coming up,” your professor says. “It’s going to be quite difficult to bring up that grade.”

You look at her desperately, “There has to be something. Please help me!”

There was no way you were going to have an F on your transcripts. It was only your first year of college and getting a failing grade definitely would not be a great way to start. Even though you don’t like this class, you don’t want it to ruin the rest of your college career.

“I would love to help you, but I can’t with finals coming up.” You frown at her words, feeling dejected.

“Do you have tutors?” you ask.

She nods, “Yes, but I’m sure that they’re all booked for the rest of the semester already.”

This cannot be happening right now. “Please professor; I can’t fail your class.”

It’s embarrassing how desperate you are right now. You’re practically begging the woman for something that was completely your fault. You can’t help but think back to every mistake you made on the tests and wonder why you didn’t study harder. For a second, you also contemplate the pros and cons of dropping out. It wouldn’t be that bad, right?

“Well, there might be something,” she says and suddenly all thoughts of dropping out fade away. You look at her almost too eagerly and ask what that certain something is. “I have this student who isn’t a tutor of mine, per se, but he did ace my class.”

Your optimism dims a little, “He isn’t a chem tutor?”

“No, he’s actually a philosophy major,” your professor says and you start thinking about dropping out again, “but he is very intelligent and does well in all subjects, y/n. I’m nearly positive he will offer to help you before this final.”

Great. Your only hope was someone who wasn’t even a chemistry major. “Who is he?”

Your professors smiles before telling you his name.

***

Kim Namjoon. You practice saying his name a few times out loud.

According to your chemistry professor, he is a third-year student, set to graduate a semester early or something, and a philosophy major. He had apparently made a perfect A+ in her class and was some kind of genius. However, that was the extent of the knowledge you possessed about him. In your short few months here, you have never run into anyone named Kim Namjoon—you didn’t even know what he looks like.

Your professor just told you who he was and where you might find him, which could literally be anywhere on campus. And, in all honesty, you felt kind of hopeless. Finals were less than a month away and you still don’t know how you're going to pass. As you left your professor’s office and walk back to your dorm room, you feel more confused than ever.

Where are you supposed to find Namjoon?

“How’d your meeting go?” your roommate, Ara, asks.

You shut the door behind you, “Horrible.”

“It can’t be that bad,” she smiles. “What, are you failing or something?”

When you fall onto your bed and turn to give her a look, she curses and you can’t help but agree. “I’m completely done for.”

“And it’s only the first semester—if you’re struggling now, imagine how it’ll be the next three years…”

You groan into your pillows, “Imdroppingout.”

Ara sighs, “You’re being too hard on yourself. All you need is a C to pass. You know what they say—C’s gets degrees.”

“Howaisuppdtogtac?” you ask, but Ara can’t understand a word you say so you raise your head and repeat: how am I supposed to get a C?

“Did you ask for extra credit or help?”

You sit up and lean your back against the wall. “No one fucking gives extra credit anymore; this is college, not grade school where you can bring your teacher an apple and get five points added to your test.”

“Truth,” your roommate nods, “these college professors are savage.”

“But I did ask for help,” you say. “She’s apparently too busy to help me though.”

Ara sighs and gives you a look of sympathy. “Worst case scenario will be that you have to retake chem...”

The thought of having to take that class again makes death seem much more appealing. There was no way you were about to step foot into that lecture hall again or sit in another lab. You just wanted to put chemistry behind you already. Life was way too short to be worrying so much about one damn class.

“My professor actually recommended me a tutor,” you tell your roommate and her ears perk up immediately.

“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” she looks at you like you’re an idiot, which you evidently are.

“He’s not a chem major,” you try to explain.

Ara just nods, “Okay, so like biology? Bio majors take chemistry too.”

You just shake your head, “He’s actually…a philosophy major.”

Silence engulfs the room for a moment, Ara looking at you with the wildest expression. It's like she is trying to understand the situation, and somehow make philosophy equal chemistry, but nothing is adding up. Her mouth opens and closes multiple times. You don’t blame her or her reaction because you felt the exact same way.

“Exactly,” you tell her. “That is why I’m fucked.”

“I am so sorry, y/n,” she places a hand over her heart, “should I begin preparing your funeral arrangements now?”

You throw one of the pillows on your bed at her, but Ara just catches it with laughter. “Why the hell are you laughing?”

“I think that you will be fine,” she tries to appease you. “Find this philosophy dude and try to get him to become your tutor. At this point, he seems to be your only saving grace.”

“Even if I wanted to be tutored by some smartass philosophy major,” you begin, still not entirely sure if you want to meet up with him, “I don’t know where the hell to find him.”

Your roommate says something along the lines of going to see the head of student relations, and that’s when a light bulb goes off in your head—you have a friend who works in the administration building. If anyone can help you locate this Namjoon dude, it will be that person. And as soon as this idea fills your mind, you decide that you better not waste any time and jump off the bed, rushing to the door.

“Where are you going? You don’t have another class today,” Ara questions as you grab your student ID.

“I’ll be back!” you say a little too excitedly and practically run to the other side of the campus.

By the time you get to the academic building, you’re sweating up a storm. It was the beginning of November already, which meant cooler autumn days. But today, Mother Nature paid a particularly warm visit and the bi-polar weather was something you hated. You walk up the pretty white steps and open the double doors into a space of cool air-conditioned goodness. You take a moment to bask in the contrast from outside before walking up to the secretary.

“Hi,” you greet the woman dressed in all red. “Is Min Yoongi in today?”

Even though you have become well acquainted with the boy over the last few months, you have no idea what his set schedule is. You two had one class together—a history course you both struggled to stay awake in; besides that, you never saw him around much. All you knew was that Yoongi was always busy with his multiple jobs around campus, which was weird since the last time you saw him, he was asleep in the library. He probably passed out from exhaustion.

“Yes, he is.” You breathe a sigh of relief. Thank the heavens. “He is currently right up the stairs; second door to the left.”

You thank the secretary and follow her directions until you reach the second door on the left. The door was slightly cracked open. Peeping in, you see Yoongi tapping away on a keyboard and you lightly tap three times on the wood. He types a few more times before saying to come in.

Pushing the door open, he looks over at you and nearly does a double-take. “Y/n?”

He seems surprised to see you, especially since you’ve never come by before.

You fall into an empty seat. “Hey, Yoongi.”

“Should I be…worried?” he questions, turning back to his computer.

“Depends,” you tell him.

“On what?”

“Do you know someone named Kim Namjoon?”

Yoongi stops, hovering his hands over the keyboard. You notice that his mouth presses into a thin line, eyebrows scrunching. He swivels his chair to face you and blinks twice. “Maybe.”

“Can you help me find him?” you ask.

“Why?” he crosses his arms over his chest.

You sigh, “Because my dumbass self is failing chemistry and I need help.”

“Don’t you have any friends you can ask to help?” Yoongi asks. “I mean, like me for instance.”

His comment makes you roll your eyes. The corner of his lips morph into a half-smile, and you know that he’s just teasing. You also know how busy he is; there is no way you are going to ask him for anything. Besides, Yoongi is probably just as terrible at chemistry. You have never seen him step anywhere near the science building.

You express these sentiments to him and he nods, while you ask, “Aren’t you a communications major anyway?”

“Isn’t this Namjoon guy in philosophy?”

“So you do know him, Yoongi.”

“I said maybe—I never said yes or no,” he clarifies, and you suppress your need to roll your eyes again. “But I guess I can help you find him.”

You nearly jump for joy at his words and watch as he begins to type away at his keyboard again. After a few minutes, Yoongi has pulled up an entire profile, along with a few articles, on Namjoon. All the information is cool, but you question your friend about its legality. But Yoongi merely brushes your concerns away and says it’s his job description. Whatever that means.

Your eyes scan down the profile—which is rather impressive with all of the multiple awards and perfect 4.0 GPA plastered on the screen in bold letters—and come to the conclusion that Kim Namjoon is, in fact, a genius and that you need his help. Immediately. Screw the fact that he isn’t a chemistry major. You just need anything you can get at this point. You want—no, need to pass. As you stare at his photo, showcasing an individual with dark hair and thick-framed glasses, you make it your mission to find him. Now, it's just the question of where to start looking.

“I’ve seen him a few times in the library,” Yoongi suddenly says, like he was reading your mind. “So, if I were you, I would start there.”

You thank Yoongi, crushing your friend in a hug and then bolt for the library.

***

After a few fruitless days in the library, you have nearly lost all hopes of getting a passing grade.

You have already started preparing yourself to take chemistry again in the spring, talking to your advisor about the schedule change. You really don’t want to take the devil’s class again, but an F would be detrimental to your GPA; and according to your university’s handbook, if you retook a class, the lower grade would be dropped. Also, Ara managed to convince you that suffering another semester in chemistry would be better than dying. And you had to agree with that.

It just seemed like it was impossible to find this Namjoon guy. You spent all of your spare time on a couch right by the library door. So if anyone left or came in, specifically him, you would see it. But every person who passed is not who you are looking for and you are starting to question Yoongi’s advice, or maybe Namjoon just lives in the library and is never going to come out.

You hope, hour after hour, that he will just walk through the doors, but it's already your fourth day in the library and you are sure the librarians are starting to get tired of seeing your face, with desperation written all over it, every day. Hell, you are tired of yourself. This is exhausting, and you are drained. Four days of waiting is absolute torture.

Ara has stopped by a few times today to drop off a bag of chips and an apple for you, which you're thankful for but wish she brought more. Aside from her, you’ve been alone. No one has stopped to talk to you, thank goodness, but a few people have given you the stink eye for hogging up the entire couch.

But having all this time alone in the library has given you the chance to think about your time-ticking situation. Even though you’ve accepted chemistry continuing to be a part of your life next semester, you still have a sliver of hope in running into Namjoon. You look at every person who walks in, checking for dark hair and glasses. Some do fit the description, but for some reason you know they’re not Kim Namjoon.

After god knows how long you’ve been in the library, you begin to pack your things up when you notice a tall blonde walk into the library. The blond hair is an immediate red x, so you focus back on the task at hand and begin walking to the doors. But just as you’re about to walk outside into the setting sun, you overhear the conversation between the blonde and the librarian.

“…you’ve read nearly everything in this library, Mr. Kim.”

He laughs, “Not everything.”

“Well, I know you’ve read much beyond your major.”

“I like to be well-rounded, ma’am.” She laughs.

“Did you still need that room?” You don’t hear him say anything to her. “Okay, mister Kim Namjoon, quiet room D is all yours.”

At that moment you freeze, not even sure if you heard anything correctly. Turning around, you notice the librarian hand the guy a key with a smile. He thanks her and walks off. You run up to the desk and slam your hand on the counter. “Was that Kim Namjoon?”

The librarian is startled, “Excuse me?”

“Was he Kim Namjoon or not?!” You’re hysteric. The person you’ve just spent days looking for is possibly steps away from you, and you are now nearing a nervous breakdown.

“Yes,” is all she says before you’re gone.

You run to the quiet rooms, which just so happened to be on the second floor, and straight to the door that had a bold letter D on it. The door is slightly cracked, so you exhale deeply before pushing it open. There you see the man himself, a book in hand, sitting in one of the two chairs in the room. He looks up at the sudden shift in the air, right at you. “Can I help you?”

Now that you’re closer to him, you realize how deep his voice is and how he just seems to command the space around him. Unlike that photo that you saw on his school profile, his once dark hair is now blonde with darker roots. The only way you can even tell it's the same person is the fact that Namjoon still wore glasses, albeit they are much more fashionable now.

“If you just came here to stare, I’d recommend that you leave. I’m currently in a very deep reading about Hobbes and the human condition.”

His comment snaps you out of your daze. “What? Hobbes? No—no I didn’t come here just to look at you, not that I came here at all to do that.” You sound stupid.

“Yes, Hobbes—did you know that he described the human condition to be one of war? That men are selfish and only wish to benefit themselves?” You have zero idea about what he is talking about. “If you don’t care about that…goodbye.” Namjoon looks back down at his book, ignoring your existence.

“I came here because I need you to tutor me,” you tell him, hoping he’ll at least look at you.

“Like I haven’t heard that before,” he flips a page.

You fist both your hands, “I’m failing chemistry, like really badly, and I can’t afford to have that grade on my transcripts.”

He doesn’t say anything, just flipping the pages in his damn book. You walk closer, until you’re right in front of him, but he still doesn’t give you the time of day. At this point, you feel angry and just done with everything. You’ve been waiting for this guy for the last four days and now he didn’t even care.

“Please,” you tell him. “Tutor me.”

“I don’t know you.”

You sigh, “My name is y/n.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“You’re Kim Namjoon.”

“Yes, well if you do know me…y/n…you must also know that I can’t just tutor you for free,” Namjoon says with a finger pushing the frame of his glasses up, eyes not wavering from the book in his other hand. “My time is precious.”

“You have to!” you practically beg. “I need to pass chem.”

He sighs, “I’m not even a chem major.”

“But you’re brilliant…or so they say,” you whisper the last bit to yourself, but Namjoon’s sharp ears don’t miss it.

“I am brilliant, thank you very much. But if you don’t have a form of payment, I’m afraid I will have to decline your proposal.”

You fall to your knees, hands clasped together, “Please, Namjoon; I’m willing to do anything.”

The last word causes him to look away from his book and down at you, taking in your rather pathetic self. A smirk stretches across his lips, “Anything?”

You just nod, hating yourself so much right now; but you're desperate, and desperate times called for even more desperate measures. As you look at Namjoon’s face, the careless gaze in his eyes begins to morph into something else. His eyes darken to obsidian and you can only imagine what is running through his head. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so willing to do anything for a passing grade. Unfortunately, you don’t have any more chances to take back what you said.

“You do look awfully pretty right now, on your knees and all.”

He brings a finger to your face, outlining the curve of your jaw to the swell of your lips. Heat rushes to your face and for a moment you don’t know what to say. You aren’t naïve to sex or anything of that sort, but you have never met someone so forward about it.

“Unless, you don’t want to pass chem,” he drops the finger. He must’ve noticed the shocked look on your face, but you quickly push your reasonable thoughts aside and shake your head.

“I want to.”

Namjoon smiles, revealing a dimple, “Perfect. We’ll start tomorrow.”

He gets up from the chair and grabs his book—which you now realize is an anthology of philosophical essays from some guy named Hobbes—walking to the door.

“You’re leaving?” you ask, still not registering what is actually going down.

“Meet me in front of the library tomorrow, and then we’ll go to my place.”

Shutting the door behind him, you collapse onto the floor with the release of a breath you’d been holding in. Your mind runs wild, heart beating erratically.

Holy shit.

***

“You what?”

Ara stares at you with wide eyes as you recall your encounter with Namjoon.

The moment you left quiet room D, after you somehow collected the strength back in your legs, you walked back to your dorm room to find your roommate sprawled on her bed. She expected to see you back earlier and was a bit concerned as to why you were later than usual today.

So, you spilled the beans. Everything.

Your roommate is the closest friend you have at school and you really needed to tell someone about the situation you were placed in. Ara was excited when you mentioned how you managed to meet Namjoon in the library and talked to him. Her expression began to change once you mentioned how disinterested he was until you offered a form of payment.

“I told him I’d do anything,” you repeat, lightly tapping your head against the wall.

“Why the hell did you say that?”

“I was desperate, Ara,” you say with a sigh. “Like, really desperate—you should’ve seen me.”

The both of you cringe at the image of you begging Namjoon to tutor you. You still can’t believe you became that girl. This chemistry class is really fucking you up.

“You’re an idiot, y/n,” she tells you.

“Oh my god, I know.”

It was pretty idiotic of you to offer up such a bold promise. You have never been one to be so risky and wage two very important things—your chemistry grade and yourself. Is it even worth it? You are beginning to have second thoughts and that's a terrible thing.

“When are you two meeting up?” Ara asks.

“Tomorrow.”

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Chaos Theory

Part Four

(One boy has been found! Now what about the others? More puzzles to solve.)

If anyone was walking through the streets of the historic section of the city at 1:40am, they would’ve been surprised to see the two men sitting on the curb, staring intently at the blue screen of a laptop. Jackie had the computer carefully balanced on his knees, JJ leaning on his shoulder as he watched. “And add to the list of things this guy knows about me,” Jackie muttered. “My freaking email! Yaaaay.”

That is a bit disturbing, JJ signed, frowning. How could he know all this?

“Look, as someone who’s hacked before, I can tell you that very little on the Internet is entirely secure.” Jackie opened his email, immediately noticing a message from an email address: 4d6164@gmail.com. “But still, this guy must have some crazy skills. I’m starting to think he supplemented any cyber stalking with regular stalking. You know, following us around. Maybe placing spy cameras in hidden locations.” He clicked on the email he’d received, opening it to see it was completely blank, except for an attached zip folder called “Set 2.”

That seems a tad excessive, doesn’t it? JJ asked, but he stopped, reconsidering. Well, actually, this entire idea is excessive. If he wanted to go after you, he didn’t need to invent this entire twisted game.

“That’s true. But some people just like to fuck with others.” Jackie downloaded the zip file, then found it in the laptop’s Downloads folder and unzipped it. “What worries me is that I’ve never even heard of this guy...”

The “Set 2″ zip folder had just one file inside: 2.png. Frowning, Jackie clicked on it. What popped up was a black-and-white image of a staff, with wings sprouting from the top, two snakes twining around its length. “Oh! This, this! That’s a...uh..” Jackie bit his nails a bit, thinking.

JJ looked at him, then finger-spelled a word. C-A-D-U-C-E-U-S.

“Yes! Caduceus!” Jackie shook his head. “Man, my brain is all over tonight. More than usual.” He took a deep breath. “You know what this is? It’s a medical symbol. Henrik has a sweater with a caduceus on it, Jack got him it for his birthday one year.” Guess they now knew who the second set of puzzles was for.

Focus, Jackie, JJ implored. But is this all there is? I don’t understand what this could be pointing to, other than...who’s next.

“Well, with your puzzle I had to play around with editing an audio file.” Jackie closed the image and opened the laptop’s photo editor. “Might as well start doing the same for this picture. I mean, obviously not audio editing, but you know.”

The very first thing Jackie did when opening up the editor was click on the brightness slider and slide it all the way to the brightest setting. And words immediately appeared in the previously black area of the caduceus’s staff. Jackie leaned closer, tilting his head to the side. “ ‘Follow the skulls’...” he read out loud. His brows furrowed. “Well that means nothing.”

JJ waved his hand in front of Jackie’s face to get his attention, then signed, Perhaps it relates to some clues in the city around us?

“Maybe. But I don’t have any idea what that could be referring to.” Jackie tapped his fingers against the laptop’s edge. After a moment, he started playing around with more sliders on the editing program. After turning up the contrast, something else appeared. “Whoa, hey, what are these?”

A string of figures were now wrapping around the edges of the picture. Small words in the top left corner said “Start here.”

It must be some kind of code, right? JJ asked. They’re numbers, but they go too high to be a simple alphabet substitution.

“Yeah, but there are letters too.” Jackie began reading the string out loud. “68 74 74 70 73 3a 2f 2f...I have no idea what this is. But I guess that’s what Google is for.” He opened up the website, plugging ‘cipher decoder’ into the search bar. An overwhelming amount of results popped up. He blinked. “I...I don’t even know where to start.”

Trial and error? JJ suggested.

Jackie’s face fell, a gray cloud falling over his expression. His eyes darted to the small clock in the corner of the laptop.

Perhaps there is one that could identify the cipher when you type it in? JJ suggested. But other than that, we don’t really have much of an option.

“...you’re right. You’re right.” Jackie took a deep breath. And another. “Okay, let’s start.”

It took five minutes to find a decoder that gave them something recognizable after plugging in the code from the picture. It turned out to be a url for a YouTube video, which Jackie immediately typed into a new tab.

“Oh! Uh, there’s earbuds.” Jackie handed one of the buds to JJ. “We can listen together. I know we could just take out the earbuds and listen with the laptop speakers, but just in case...” Just in case of what? He wasn’t sure. But JJ took the earbud anyway, awkwardly putting it in.

Jackie didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t...this. He physically leaned backwards at the sound of the intro: “Yo, what’s up guys? I’m Chase, and welcome to Bro Average!” He had to pause it for a moment, just to bask in the confusion. “I-I thought...” he said slowly. “Was...was I wrong about who...?”

JJ looked confused as well. Perhaps it’s both of them?

“But there are four sets? I-I don’t...?” Jackie shook his head. “Nevermind, it’ll make sense later, once we actually get to them. Because we’re going to. In time.” Jackie laughed. JJ gave him a concerned look that he waved away. “I-I’m fine, let’s just...see if there are any clues here." He pressed play.

It looked like any other video by Chase. In fact, Jackie thought he’d seen it before. It followed the same format at first. The music, the shots of Chase hanging out, the attempts at trickshots that always failed at first. Chase once said he liked to include the fails so the viewers would know he’s no better at these than anyone else, and that anyone could do the tricks if they tried. But then—

What was that? JJ signed quickly.

“I don’t know.” Jackie paused the video. He used the arrow keys to go back, but when that failed to pick anything up, he resorted to using the comma and period keys on the keyboard to go frame by frame. Until he finally managed to capture the image that had popped up for a split second: A hollow red circle, divided into fourths, with a red skull in the center. There were also a few strange dots and dashes along the bottom.

Am I correct in assuming Chase didn’t originally have those in his video? JJ asked. But then, how did that get there? Is it possible to put images in a video on the web?

“No, but...” Jackie tapped the screen. “This is on a different channel.” Indeed, instead of Chase’s BroAverage channel at the bottom of the video, the channel name was a string of numbers with a few letters that looked similar to the encoded url that had been hidden in the .png of the caduceus. “That means the video could’ve been downloaded, then edited and reuploaded. There could be more of these...actually, there probably are. The image said ‘follow the skulls,’ I bet it meant ones in here.” He frowned. “What are these dashes? Morse code?”

JJ nodded in agreement.

“Well, great, guess we’re going to have to write these down and find another decoder—”

Jackie. JJ raised an eyebrow. I know Morse code.

“You do?” Jackie blinked. “I didn’t know that. Since when?”

Since... JJ paused. 1923, I believe.

“Oh. Okay. Well, that saves us some time. Here, I’ll just open up Notepad and write down the code on this image, then we can see if there are more images sneaked into the video.”

There were. Five more times, the image of the red skull appeared, each time accompanied by more Morse code. Jackie copied the code into a page on Notepad, and once he was sure there was nothing else hidden in the video, he passed the laptop to JJ. JJ glared at the code, then slowly began the process of translating. Jackie looked around the dark city while he worked, legs bouncing. The city was always empty at night, but it seemed even quieter than normal. He didn’t like it.

What if the gamemaster was somewhere in the darkness right now? He said he’d be watching. How? What if he was following them? Or were there cameras, invisible eyes, dangling in the shadows? Making sure they didn’t break the rules and get help? What time was it? How much was left? Though he didn’t want to, Jackie began wondering what would happen if he failed. He knew the basics, of course, he’d never see the others again. But what would happen to them? Would it end with something as simple as a gunshot? Or would it last longer? Maybe they wouldn’t be killed at all, maybe they’d vanish into a worse fate—

JJ tapped Jackie’s arm, and Jackie yelped. JJ sharply withdrew his hand, then asked, Are you alright?

“Y-yeah, I-I just was, um...thinking. You startled me. Are you done?”

JJ clearly didn’t think Jackie was actually alright, but he nodded. I’ve finished. I believe it’s an address.

“Here, lemme see.” Jackie scooted closer. It was indeed a simple address. “Spiralnest Street...that’s in the north part of the city. It...it’s dangerous there.”

Well, we don’t have much of a choice, do we? JJ signed, sighing.

“No. No, we don’t. We’re going to have to be quick, and hope we don’t attract any attention.” Jackie closed his eyes, preparing himself, then opened them again. “We can’t take public transportation, nothing runs this late at night. Neither of us can drive, and even if we could, we don’t have a car. How fast can you run?”

JJ bit his lip. Not as fast as I would like.

Jackie looked at the time on the laptop. He watched the numbers change from 1:56 to 1:57. His stomach twisted sharply. “Okay. Okay. We have time. We’ll be quick.” He shut the laptop, putting it back in the box. “Let’s go.”

He stood up, and JJ did as well. He grabbed his hand and the two of them started running.

And somewhere else in the city, a man sitting at a desk leaned back in his chair, staring at a screen on a bank of monitors. Three hours left. They were still ahead of schedule, but now only slightly.

He reached over and switched cameras, checking first on a room with two people behind a sheet of plexiglass, then another with a single man lying unconscious on the floor. Good. Nothing had changed.

He stood up. By his calculations, it would take them anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour and a half to reach their destination. Enough time to drive over there and set up the final puzzle of Set 2. He chuckled.

He couldn’t wait for this part. It was a classic, one of his favorites. Though he had a feeling Jackieboy and his friends wouldn’t appreciate it as much.

[yourmomswallet]

Call Girl

I’m reuploading all my stuff. I haven’t written fanfiction in about 6 years, give or take, so Kiryu might be OOC. Not beta read. Here’s my AO3 in case you’d rather read there. Enjoy!

The afternoon sun was blocked out by the shadows of the many buildings of the block, leading wandering eyes to the flashing, marque like lights of Teltel Boys Club. Information on posters surrounded the entrance, listing the building’s phone number and prices. Kiryu walked up the street, determined to get in the telephone club as soon as possible. The pedestrians of Senryo Ave. strolled through past Kiryu, paying no attention to his presence in the seedy location. Triggering the automatic double doors and walking in, the clerk behind the counter greets him warmly.

“Welcome to Teltel Boys Club! Brighten up your day chatting with fun young ladies!” The clerk bows slightly and continues speaking. “We have several deals tailored to your needs!”

The charts behind the clerk are the same as the ones posted on the windows, with the longest course being 3 000 yen and the shortest 1 000 yen, simple chump change for what Kiryu makes.

“The longest course, please,” Kiryu politely orders whilst avoiding eye contact with the man. The clerk still has a friendly smile upon his face as Kiryu orders and tells him how much he owes. His rough hands pull out his wallet and slide the money on the counter, over to the clerk. As Kiryu slips the wallet back into his back pocket, the clerk places the money into the cash register and looks back up to him.

“I’ll show you to your booth. Fingers crossed you meet someone special!” cheers the clerk.

The two men walk into the cramped hallway to a door with a three on it. As they pass by the other booths, Kiryu can hear the many different voices, further fueling his nervousness. The clerk opens the door for Kiryu and wishes him luck. He thanks him and walks into the room. Closing the door, Kiryu takes a deep breath and pulls out the chair to sit down in the small booth. He looks around the wooden table, noticing the paper pad and pencil, as well as an ashtray and, surprisingly, a tissue box.

“... Let’s do this!” Kiryu tries to encourage himself whilst he focused his gaze on the now ringing telephone.

“The karaoke bar was a few blocks down! Where are you taking me?” you question Bianka as she drags you arm in arm down the street.

“Don’t sweat it, honey. Have I ever led you astray?” She rolls her eyes while you look back towards the bar. As you’re about to answer her rhetorical question, she interrupts it.

“Don’t answer that, alright? You know what I meant,” she defends herself, putting up her hand to your face.

Yabuta Bianka, or more known in the office as the busy body. As soon as she met you, you both became connected at the hip, despite not being in the same department. With your great listening skills and her big mouth, it was the perfect beginning for friendship. Walking what she describes as miles to reach your desk became a daily routine, delivering a small snack to share over the latest office scandal while there. It wasn't too long until the two of you were known as the inseparable office twosome.

The last thing you wanted to do was walk miles in your work clothes right after work to get to a mystery destination. Bianka always had her ways of entangling you into her little schemes. As you were guided down the street, your mind could only wonder what exactly she had in store for you. Over the last few weeks, she has been constantly asking about your romantic life. Too many times she had changed the subject to your love life for it to be surface level curiosity. You were always the hard working, quiet person in the workplace, making it difficult to bring about friendships even in your own department. Bianka became worried that your constant working hindered possible close relationships that could be made. In her mind, if you wouldn’t accept one of the employees as a future candidate for significant other, you would need to traverse outside the office. As the only friend she knew you had, she felt it was her obligation to help guide you to someone. And that was exactly what she had planned in the guise of going to the karaoke bar as you two had agreed upon.

You are led by friend into club, unwilling to enter. Your eyes widened as they land on a flashing sign, right above where Bianka had planned on taking you. A terekura.

“No! Absolutely not! You know how I feel about talking to strangers!”

Making a scene while being dragged into a place like a telephone club was not how you imagined your afternoon going. You protest that you both turn back to the bar, offering to even pay for whatever drinks she’d like just so you wouldn’t have to go through with her plan. Much to your demise, she was dead set upon making you meet someone. Bianka was strong enough to drag you towards the automatic doors and push you in. You despised her for dragging you to a terekura without your knowledge. You knew this visit wasn’t for her, considering how she always messaged her girlfriend when she wasn’t working.

“This will be good for you! Trust me! I know how much you’d like a sweetheart to sing karaoke with that isn’t me and go on cute dates with. I get it. I once was a loner, too.” Bianka offered a smile to the clerk behind the counter that welcomes you both.

“I would like the five-minute option, please! For her!” Bianka pulls you closely beside her as she reaches into her purse for her wallet.

“Don’t waste money on this terrible idea! Plus, where are you supposed to go? You have a girlfriend! What would she think if word traveled?” You stammer while she gives the money to the clerk. The older woman told you to follow her to a booth.

“Oh relax. I told Nanka about my plan. I’m going to wait in the lobby for you. And if you come out with no connections, I’ll just pay for another session. Have fun!” She was steadfast on making sure you would meet someone. She pushed you towards the direction the clerk was walking and you had no choice but to follow. The prospect of wasting Bianka’s money and the clerk’s time wasn’t appealing.

“This is your booth, miss. You have five minutes to make a connection. You can do this,” the older lady cheers you on. She must have assumed you were having trouble from what she overheard when you walked in. She begins to walk back to the desk.

“Th-thank you, ma’am.” You turned your head from the door back to Bianka, peering over the clerk to see her waving at you cheekily. Knowing her, by the time you left, the clerk would know everything about you and your love life.

Taking a deep breath, you finally shuffle into the booth and close the door.

You reluctantly sit down and mentally prep yourself, just wishing to just go home. Curse Bianka and her scheming. You knew you shouldn’t have agreed to go with her, even your horoscope warned you, even if it was the vaguest thing you read all day. What you wouldn’t do to just go to your apartment and treat yourself on this Friday afternoon. But you had to make this experience worth your time and Bianka’s money. You wouldn’t get another opportunity like this to make a friend.

Knowing Bianka only wanted the best for you, you dialed the first number you saw. You felt the beginnings of a stomach ache because of your nerves. Rubbing your fingers on your palm made you realize how clammy you were by just talking to someone over the phone. Your hand rubs against your leg to get rid of the moisture on it.

‘Relax. This is just like making a dental appointment, except it’s got nothing to do with your teeth.’ You try to calm yourself down while the other side is ringing. Suddenly, someone picks up.

 Kiryu hesitates to interrupt the woman babbling on about her ex-boyfriend. Eventually, he puts the phone back on its receiver. He sighs and wonders if this idea wasn’t well thought out. The thought of anyone finding a real connection here is little to none. From what seems like desperate sex addicts trying to find a fix to somewhat unenthused, one-word responders, finding someone with an interest to have a conversation was quite difficult.

His watch told him his five minutes were almost up, meaning he would either have to pay for another session or leave without speaking to anyone worthwhile. He didn’t want to give up right then and there, though. This might be the last chance he’d get to meet someone before any serious future events occur.

‘I’m able to pick up one more call. Maybe I can try again-’

*RING RING*

His thoughts are interrupted by the phone. Surprised by the rings, he rips the phone off the receiver with such finesse and fervor it would give an onlooker whiplash. He answers, holding the phone to his ear.

“Moshi moshi?”

You find yourself unable to answer after hearing the deep voice greet you. A strong feeling of panic storms over your body, forcing your throat to close up and restrict words from being said. Your mouth opens and closes in an attempt to say something, only to be met with silence.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Yes! I-I mean yes. Yes, I’m here. Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” You lightly tap your cheek a few times. You wonder if he can sense your nervousness.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. This whole thing is new to me, too.”

“So, what are you here for, then? Love? A quick fuck?” You cringe at your bluntness, cursing your nerves for making you sound so harsh. He chuckles lightly.

“I’m not here for sex. I’m not sure what exactly I want, but I think I made the wrong decision coming here.” He sounded a bit discouraged.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, my friend forced me into this. She thinks I need a significant other, but I think I’m in an alright spot. I work an office job, I have friends, and I’m happy. I just don’t understand what she wants from me.” You realize you’re rambling too much in the small amount of time allowed.

“S-Sorry, I tend to, uh, ramble when I’m nervous. Please, what about you?”

“Well, since we’re on the subject of work, I work in real estate.”

“Oh, that must be quite exhausting. Having to appeal to people’s tastes and needs must be tiresome.”

“I guess so. I usually don’t get too much time off, so I have to spend it wisely.”

“I hope I’m not interfering in your sacred break. I feel the same. Work’s gotten awfully busy lately, what with the influx of orders coming in. Ah, I just can’t seem to catch a break.”

“Don’t worry. You’re not interfering at all. In fact, just from our short conversation, you sound like the perfect person I’d like to spend my free time with.”

You blush at his statement. You don’t think you sound all that interesting. Clearing your throat, you try to change the subject.

“How old are you?”

“20.”

“I’m 20 also. But you sound way more mature than what your voice leads me to believe.”

“I’ve been told I have a voice for acting, but I think they’re exaggerating.”

“Hmph, could’ve fooled me. Your voice is so deep and rich.” You lightly slap your hand over your mouth, surprised by your bluntness. HIs laugh reach your ears and make you blush even more.

“Thank you. You know, hearing you talk has calmed my nerves a bit. Despite my job, I always feel a little on edge when talking to new people.”

“It’s nice to hear that I’m doing something right during this conversation. I usually have trouble talking to strangers on the phone, but much less than talking to someone face to face. I’d much rather speak on the phone.”

“Oh, so you wouldn’t like to meet me in person?” You can hear his little smirk through the phone.

“Th-That’s… I mean, it… it doesn’t seem all that terrible to maybe meet you face to face. You know, what the hell? Why not? We’re not really strangers are we?”

“That’s good to hear. Where should we meet?”

“Umm… How about the theatre, maybe? And we, uh, take it from there?” You felt all the pressure being put upon you. What if he didn’t like the way you looked? This was happening too fast for you to understand. You felt a stomach ache coming on.

“Perfect. My name is Kiryu. I’ll be in a white suit and orange shirt.”

You tell him your name and that you’ll be wearing a blue jacket and pencil skirt, with a white blouse and heels.

“Seen you then. Bye.”

“Bye.” You put the phone back onto the receiver and let out a sigh while looking at it.

‘What did I get myself into?’ You rest your head in your hands and close your eyes.

 As soon as you told Bianka about your success, she was ecstatic and all over you.

“What did I tell you? God, I’m a genius! My mind is... so powerful!” You both walked out the doors to travel to the theatre’s front while she bragged about being right.

“You don’t have to be so braggadocious about this. Anything could go wrong!”

“Okay, first, I don’t know what that means, so nice try.”

“Maybe your mind isn’t that powerful after all…” You’re cut off by her elbow meeting your shoulder.

“Ouch!” You rub your injury as she continues.

“Second! You need to be more positive about this. I can’t be with you the whole time to be your little angel on your shoulder or whatever.” She stops walking as you arrive at the theatre.

“I’ll be watching from over there,” she says, pointing to a bench in the shade.

 Walking down the littered street, Kiryu stops at the theatre.

‘She might be here already.’ he thinks.

A brief scan of the area results in him seeing a blue ensemble and heels from across the street. He walks closer towards the woman before he sees another woman in a similar outfit sitting on a bench scanning him up and down. She then nods at the other woman.

‘Hm? Is this a prank or something?’

Despite his confusion, Kiryu cautiously walks closer to the lady as she stands still.

“Hi! You must be Kiryu-san!” You greet him as you spin around. He looks a bit startled by the surprise acknowledgment. You cringe at how loud you are. Curse your nerves.

“Yeah, that’s me. Y/N, right?” He raises one eyebrow slightly.

“Y-Yes, sorry for being. I’m a little out of my comfort zone.” Your hand finds its way to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear whilst you speak.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m nervous, too,” he admits, thinking it might help you calm down. Whether or not his statement is true, it comforts you to think that he is as nervous as you.

“Not to be rude, but who was that sitting on that bench over there?” Kiryu points to the now empty bench. You turn your head and see Bianka has left.

“Oh! That was just my friend. You know how telekuras can be, full of creeps and all. N-Not that y-you’re a creep! I just need to be cautious is all, yeah?” You want to take your foot out of your mouth, but the words come out too quickly.

“Ha, don’t worry about it. I understand. I promise I’m not here to kidnap you. Other than maybe for a date.” He looks towards you expectantly. You want to jump in the nearby bushes to conceal your flushed face,

“I-I... “ The floor looked very interesting at that moment while you tried to come up with some type of comprehensible response. Damn him and his charisma.

“If you don’t want to, I can leave. I’m fine with what-”

“No! I-I mean yes! I… ugh. I do want to go on a date with you.” You surprise yourself that you can actually speak up before he finishes his statement.

“That’s great. Where would you like to go?” He stands patiently as he awaits your answer. Your hands find your purse strap and play with it as you try to think of a good place to go. He can clearly see how nervous you really are.

“Do you like karaoke? There’s a bar close by.”

“Yes! That’d be great. My friend tricked me into thinking we were going to a bar in the first place when really she wanted to set me up with someone.”

“Well, guess you could say we’re killing two birds with one phone call.” You give him a small smile and roll your eyes.

“Ha ha. Just lead the way, Kiryu-san.”

 “Wow, Kiryu-san! I should have guessed a guy with your voice would have a great singing voice.” You ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed at his performance after he took his seat back at the bar. He chuckles and takes a sip of his now watery booze.

“It’s nothing to make a big deal about. I just really like karaoke.” Swirling the liquid around, he stares at his glass as he tries to sound humble, but you know you have hit a sweet spot by complimenting his singing skills.

“Oh please, stop trying to be humble. You have the voice of an idol!” Your hand somehow landed on his forearm on the table. Looking up, he meets your eyes and you blush as you take your hand away as quickly as you placed it.

The two of you conversed for what seemed like a few minutes but was actually a few hours. And whether it was the alcohol or the sense of freedom gained around Kiryu, you somehow came up with your genius plan. You were just glad you had worn stockings to work.

Deft fingers work some of your blouse’s top buttons while you both continue chatting. You wiggle about in your seat, listening intently as he talks about some little car race he was in, all the while hiking your modest skirt up to a somewhat teasing length. As soon as the bartender turned to serve a customer, you started to edge your small purse off the bar. A thud sounds out as the purse falls, only heard by Kiryu and you as the current karaoke track drowns the sound out.

“Oh! I'm so sorry. I guess I’ve had too much to drink.” Giggling, you start to reach down for the purse. Kiryu watches you bend down, eyes following and lowering to your cleavage. He scolded himself for taking advantage of the situation.

Ever the chivalrous gentleman, Kiryu falls right into your trap.

“I’ve got it.”

You straighten back up, and as he bends down, you are careful not to hit him with your feet as you uncross your left leg from on top of your right when he comes back up with the purse. He pauses for the briefest moment to admire what you put on display just for him.

A black matching panty, stocking, and garter set. All for his eyes.

‘I’m going to die.’

Smirking, you slowly put your right leg over your left after you are sure he gets a good look. You look over your glass in time to see him turn his head away. He gets back up, purse in hand, and you hope you did something to make him break face. Looking at him, you drink in his masculine face, his gelled-up hair, his dark, soulful eyes… Damn him.

A blank, but strong face looks back at you.

‘Dammit, nothing.’ You mentally curse yourself out for thinking such a stupid plan would work. ‘Of course, someone as handsome and captivating as him wouldn’t want anything to do with- Wait! Is that? No. It can’t be.’

Red tinted ears.

‘Gotcha. Hmph, what a perv,’ you joke to yourself and take a sip.

“I should get you home. Before you’re unable to tell me where you live.” Money ends up on the table, enough to pay for both drinks. He stands up and holds out his hand for you to take.

“Wow, you really must want me to take you home, huh, Ladykiller-san!” you joke, loud enough for just him to hear. He groans at your new nickname for him as you laugh at his reaction.

Instead of holding his hand, you wrap your arms around his one and grab your purse. You both walk out of the bar into the now darkened city, illuminated by the artificial lights and sparse stars. Before Kiryu can lift his hand to hail the cab, you pull him down by the coat lapel, mouth centimeters away from his ear.

“By the way, I’m not drunk. And if you’re a good boy in the cab, I might let you get a peek at something else,” you offer in coquettish tone while your hand slithers up his chest to cup the back of his neck. He has no response, even as he hails and rushes you into the cab, other than his ears turning an adorable shade of pink.

As you tell the driver what your address is, your hand drifts towards Kiryu’s left leg. He takes his hand and puts it over yours, interlacing your fingers. While he busies himself with your hand, you begin to unbutton your blouse’s top buttons to reveal your lace bra. Treating yourself to lingerie that morning was a blessing in disguise. The lace edge danced across your cleavage, leaving the observer needy for more.

Kiryu’s eyes widen slightly as his gaze falls upon your breasts, your other hand landing on your entwined hands to make your arms press your breasts together even more. He drinks in how playful yet erotic you look in the passing colourful lights of the city. He can’t seem to take his eyes off of you, trying to keep this scene hidden away in his mind forever.

‘I’m in trouble.’

Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you can sense the want and need on his face, despite his efforts to not show anything. His eyes glaze over and his ears turn a bit pink. Desire falls upon the back seat of the cab, causing a tension between you and Kiryu. You decide to break it by reaching your hand towards his coat lapel. Not taking your eyes off him, you run your hand up and down one side of his chest. You close the gap between your faces, your lips almost touching his cheek as you move to his ear, hoping the cabbie pays no attention to what is going down in his car.

“Mmmmm, Ladykiller-san, are you flexing just for me?”

Interpreting the situation, he finally makes a move. By putting his hand on you inner right thigh, he receives a giggle from you and a teasing scold.

“What’d I say about being a good boy, Kiryu?” You start to draw circles on his chest, dangerously close to his nipple. You flash him a smirk as he doesn’t say a word, instead choosing to inch his hand up even more, fingers finally meeting the top of your stocking. He takes a risk by squeezing your thigh in his hand. Your little moan slips out as you trace your fingers on his shirt collar.

‘What a tacky print. But somehow, he makes it work.’

A hand gently strokes Kiryu’s neck and a thumb passes back and forth over his slightly stubbled jaw. Taking the hint, he leans down slowly as your hand that cups his jaw guides him towards you. He cannot help but grasp your upper thigh a bit harder as he awaits for what comes next. A pair of soft lips just millimetres away from his somewhat chapped ones, the distance starts to close. Eyes closed, you both prepare for what you have been waiting for.

“Hey, horndogs! This is my cab, not a love hotel. Get out!”

Embarrassed beyond belief, you let go of Kiryu in exchange for your purse. Fishing out some cash, you slip it through the slot of the glass as you utter an apology. The driver snatches the money from your hand and waves you off.

Kiryu had already gotten out, his hand awaiting yours to help you out. You close the door after climbing out of the seat. After his touches, your skirt had ridden up quite a bit, which you straightened out. Turning around, you see him staring at you with a small grin. You respond by lifting a brow and grinning back.

“Is there something on your mind?”

“Yeah, actually. You.”

“Oh, you’re such a lady killer! I might just fall over from swooning too hard!” You express yourself through a melodramatic hand press to your forehead. You giggle from your actions and see Kiryu still smiling at you, eyes filled with laughter.

“Stop that. I’m being serious. And I told you not to call me that.” His voice does not allude to him being serious about his complaint.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What would you rather be called?” You take a few steps closer to him and grab his coat with both hands for the nth time that night. You pull him down a bit to make sure your mouth is close enough to his ear. He can feel your warm breath on his earlobe, then your tongue.

“Good boy?” You bite down gently and give it an experimental tug. Hands snap to your lower back and hip, causing you to gasp. He pulls your hips close to his and buries his nose into your neck, groaning as your hands wrap around his toned torso. With how your bodies are connected, you feel every single part of him as well as how warm he is. You hum in enjoyment, reveling in the fact that you make him feel this way. A small smirk makes its way to your lips.

“How naughty, we’re still in public. How about we go to my apartment? I have even more to show you, Ladykiller-san.”

[fly-pow-bye]

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “A Slight Hiccup”

Written by: Haley Mancini

Written & Storyboarded by: Alicia Chan, Caitlin Vanarsdale

Directed by: Nick Jennings, Bob Boyle

This is far more than a hiccup, trust me.

An apology in advance: there is not a lot to say about this episode, so do not expect as much text as the last one. This episode is a very "high concept" episode, the kind of episode idea that would appear as a short gag in The City of Clipsville. The big difference is that this short gag is going to be 12 minutes long.

Blossom: Stop right there, evil-doer!

Ah, finally, an episode that starts with a crime being fought, just like the old days!

No, she’s just practicing her next battle lines, just in case they ever have to use them. Other rejected lines include "villains stink", "we’ll save you", and "we're heroes"! Honestly, I would just stick with "not so fast."

The girl currently talking to herself about battle lines is interrupted by Buttercup trying to teach Bubbles how to do the perfect burp. Yes, it is that kind of episode.

Surrounded by tens of soda cans littered across the house, which Blossom is apparently not bothered by, Blossom asks what Bubbles and Buttercup are doing. To subvert our expectations, Blossom tells Bubbles that she should not listen to Buttercup because she should listen to her on the subject of burping. She's the leader, so she must be the best at everything, including belching!

We get a very long sequence of the Powerpuff Girls drinking several cans of soda, filling their cheeks to the brim, and throwing them on the floor. Such great role models, drinking very unhealthy drinks and littering! Hiccup punch, girl down, womp womp.

Bubbles celebrates her first good burp, apparently because she's the blonde, but Blossom knows that this is just a mere hiccup. A mere hiccup that causes them to launch across the room a split second after the hiccup. I think the timing is a little off, guys.

The Professor makes a short visit to this episode to explain what is happening to them: since they're superheroes, their hiccups are super, too. He recommends that they drink a glass of water, but it doesn't stop the hiccups. Worse, Bubbles says that now she needs to pee. They never follow through with that, and I am glad that is the case.

They get a call from the mayor that the jar district is being attacked. The Powerpuff Girls spend quite a bit of time getting shocked by this. No, not by the very existence of the jar district, or the fact that the Mayor actually called them in this reboot, but how anyone could attack the lifeblood of the town!

We cut to the Jar District...and it seems to be fine to me. The Mayor did manage to see a blimp in the shape of some green troll-faced character.

Tour Guide: And to our right is the infamous Jar District...

Random person: The lifeblood of the town!

If it is the lifeblood of the town, how is it infamous? Words have meaning. Speaking of infamy, we finally get to see some trouble.

The real threat shows up minutes later, as this episode about super-hiccups has to have the silliest of super-villains. The Gnat is here, and I deeply regret ever saying this guy is my favorite of the reboot villains. For starters, Bianca Bikini is a lot better. His gimmick seems to be committing crimes when the Powerpuff Girls have issues. Well, that and being there when the Powerpuff Girls can get beaten up so Bliss can save the day.

He pretends to be this big threat to this Jar District, and then takes a significant amount of time coughing and being incomprehensible to the other people he's threatening. I am sure this was meant to be hilarious, and not just a desperate plea to the audience that they could not squeeze enough water out of the burp and hiccup plot stone.

The Powerpuff Girls show up desperately try to stop this hot air balloon, only to be thwarted by their super-hiccups. Even worse, their super-hiccups end up interferring with what are essentially cutaway jokes. Since they already used up all of the hiccup jokes they can muster, they decide to fit in all the jar jokes they can think of.

Like...one of the super-hiccups interrupting the Jar Czar. Because Jar sounds like Czar. Bubbles, on the other hand, manages to hiccup her away into another building.

They spend a lot of time on the aftermath of that, as if this was the most tragic moment of them all. They even made a song that is in no way a reference to What A Wonderful World. How is this worth that? Is it because it’s the all important jar district? At least it's actually animated; they could just randomly put a bunch of random stock footage, I say not knowing anything about what happens later in the episode.

One part that is caused by Bubbles' accidental act of tragic destruction is that a giant jar lid almost lands on the sobbing Mayor. The Powerpuff Girls do show off another superpower other than flight in that they catch this lid, only for the Mayor to keep crying. I know, he loves his pickles, which happen to come in jars.

They do a hiccup, causing them to spin around. It turns out, while they're holding this giant jar lid, the force of their hiccups manages to make them spin at super fast speeds. What do you know, something that heavily detrimented them is now to their advantage; this episode is just going through the cycles. All we need is for them to suddenly lose those hiccups as soon as it becomes inconvienent.

In the end, this causes a giant tornado. This was something they were able to do without super hiccups earlier in even the reboot, but that regular non-hiccup tornado didn’t even stop a giant spider monster, never mind this blimp. They really needed these super-hiccups to make a tornado that easily beats this reboot’s version of the Amoeba Boys.

Of course, now there’s a giant tornado running across Townsville. The girls’ actions lead to consequences, who would have guessed? It’s also heading towards this all-important and yet infamous Jar District.

They try to stop it by hiccuping against it, only for their hiccups to go away as soon as they need them. I told ya! It’s practically a cartoon law: whenever the bad thing that happened becomes essential to their victory, they suddenly have to lose it. What are the Reboot Puffs to do? Drink more soda, of course! Cue the obvious "trying to get soda out of the vending machine" joke!

While they get the soda, they don't seem to get the hiccups. However, Bubbles is making a weird face, and not the kind used for the usual wacky face gags. To bookend this whole thing, Bubbles finally gets to do the burp she was trying to do since the opening. A burp so big, it couldn't be animated. Oh no...

...they have to use stock footage. Unlike some of the other uses of stock footage, I could see where they are going here. This burp is so monstrous, it affects real life, destroys real buildings, and even dogs from Tex Avery cartoons! May not want to reference better cartoons in your bad one, guys.

The episode ends with the irony: the episode ends with a pan shot of the rest of the city being destroyed by the stock footage-y stock footage burp of stock footage, but at least most of the Jar District is okay! This may be one of the few highlights of this episode; I could see an episode of the original ending like this.

Does the title fit?

It is about hiccups...not very slight ones, though.

How does it stack up?

This episode was chosen to be the preview episode, and I can only wonder why. It's a very silly idea, and they couldn't get of a lot of material out of it. There are episodes that have bad ideas that end up being okay in the end, and this is not one of them.

Next, Discount Jojo interrogates some toys! It's better than it sounds, but maybe it's because of this episode.

← The Buttercup Job ☆ Toy Ploy →

[codenamesailordarillium]

Just in case anyone was wondering, there have in fact been UA videos reuploaded onto PornHub (yes, the Cooking with Sex Toys one is definitely up there).

[sympxls]

I feel like you probably get this question quite a lot and I'm sorry for being annoying if the answer is no but I was wondering if you used to be simply-pixeling? In case you are, I was wondering if you could maybe re-upload or something your old sims 3 cc links since they aren't really working. Anyway, have a nice day .x

I actually don’t get this question at all & you’re not annoying in the least ♥, but yes that was my old URL. My old sims 3 cc links aren’t working because I pulled them all down & I did that because at the time I deleted the links, no one had downloaded any of my sims 3 cc in almost a year. I honestly didn’t think anyone was still interested in them :( & I can’t access my back up copies of them because I don’t remember the password for the mega.nz acct they are backed up on. I’m very sorry, love @mycatisharoldsims. If you come across anyone who should happen to have what you are looking for, feel free to do whatever you want with it-reupload, private share, I dont mind. Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful ♥ Hope you have a nice day too :)