#inside number 9 wallpaper

[super-glued-socks]

as promised - thomas drake wallpaper! • i was battling with the colours but i’m happy with the end result, hope you like it anon :)

thank you for requesting this because i love the episode [bernie clifton’s dressing room]

[bizarrequazar]

GJ and ZZH Updates — March 3-9

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This is part of a weekly series collecting updates from and relating to Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan.

This post is not wholly comprehensive and is intended as an overview, links provided lead to further details. Dates are in accordance with China Standard Time, the organization is chronological. My own biases on some things are reflected here. Anything I include that is not concretely known is indicated as such, and you’re welcome to do your own research and draw your own conclusions as you see fit. Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or additions. :)

[Glossary of names and terms] [Masterlist of my posts about the situation with Zhang Zhehan]

03-03 → The whaler MistyRose posted a screenshot of account stats that can only be seen by the account holder for the official Ranyi Music YouTube channel (associated with the Zhang Sanjian songs.) This suggests that at the least she has some insider connection with the scam that allowed her to receive the screenshot personally, and it's possible that she's the one running the account herself.

→ 361° posted two photo ads featuring Gong Jun. (1129 kadian)

→ Za posted another teaser photo ad featuring Gong Jun. (1129 kadian)

→ The Instagram posted six photos of "Zhang Zhehan" and "Zhang Mama" and four of an aquarium.

03-04 → Gong Jun posted a commercial for the makeup brand Za, announcing that he is their new global spokesperson. This was reposted by his studio.

→ Za posted five photo ads featuring Gong Jun. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] (1129 kadian on the first)

→ The Instagram posted a video of the most recent scam concert.

→ Za held a livestream to promote the new endorsement with Gong Jun. During this, a number of people with obviously CPF usernames won several giveaways, and the streamer reportedly said "Oh [you're] also a fan of Zhehan" to one of them. Sources: [1] [2]

→ 361° posted a promotional video featuring Gong Jun. Fan Observation: The video shows him colouring flowers in with red. In the final shot one flower is still left uncoloured, recalling Zhou Zishu's plum blossom mural in Word of Honor.

03-05 → Za posted a promotional video (1129 kadian) and two photo ads [1] [2] featuring Gong Jun.

→ 361° posted three photo ads featuring Gong Jun.

→ Za posted three wallpapers featuring Gong Jun.

03-06 → Gong Jun posted five photos ads of himself for L'Oreal.

→ Za posted a promotional video featuring Gong Jun.

→ Some of the old essays posted by Zhang Sanjian at the very beginning of the scam (early 2022) were reposted, but edited to remove the implications against Gong Jun and CPFs. It's been discussed quite bit by now that trying to appeal to solo fans at the expense of CPFs so early on was the scam's biggest mistake, as it caused CPFs to become sceptical and begin investigations. This is not the first time that the scam has shown signs of wanting to backtrack on that move.

03-07 → The Fox Spirit Matchmaker Weibo posted a promotional image of Gong Jun's character to celebrate the show reaching 4 million viewer reservations. Caption: "Refreshing and clear, with eyebrows like poetry. Dongfang Yuechu @ Gong Jun Simon seems to be the person in the painting."

→ Gong Jun posted a short commercial for Za to his Douyin. Fan Observation: The product is called Magnetic (贴贴, tietie) Powder, the same word fans use for how Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan would often bump against each other when they were working together. I could be wrong, but I couldn't find any evidence of this product existing prior to Gong Jun's endorsement.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a little video celebrating Fox Spirit Matchmaker's milestone. Caption: "Pure fire is invincible🔥Candied haws never leaves the hand✌️ #Fox Spirit Matchmaker: Red Moon Chapter has more than 4 million reservations#, @ Gong Jun Simon's new mission props are now distributed!" The same was also posted to the studio's Douyin.

→ Za posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

03-08 → Gong Jun posted four photo ads he did for L'Oreal to his Xiao Hong Shu.

→ GXG posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ 361° posted a video voiced by Gong Jun for International Women's Day. (1129 kadian)

→ Za posted a behind the scenes video of their commercial featuring Gong Jun. (1129 kadian)

→ Gong Jun posted four photos of himself. Caption: "Happy holidays! Also share my half-day leisure 😌"

→ Za posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ Gong Jun posted a silly video of himself to his Douyin. Caption: "I heard that this is how millions of people move their mirrors 🤳" BGM is What You Won't Do For Love by Bobby Caldwell.

03-09 → The scam announced a short film entitled "August" directed by "Zhang Zhehan", using footage that the scam gang took during the bike trip in August 2022. The intention of this is very obviously to have search results for the film come up with information about 813.

Additional Reading: → N/A

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[psychopasss4]

Dir. Shiotani PPP interview

Q&A with the Director Shiotani on 6/15/2023.

For reference, I know y'all had read this couple of times as it has been distributed and discussed online 😁🤭

[Eng.Trans.]

1. What are your hobbies for the weapons that appear?→Is Assault Dominator a hobby of the director? There were three variations of the assault type before the final design. I'm looking forward to the completion of (Kaiser's Dominator).

2. Is there a window in the criminal division room?→It was originally there. It was hidden by holo wallpaper, but Akane cut it out to create a healthy and refreshing space.

3. Was General always in the north?→ Jack Daw and Vixon only appear in the second half. That's it.

4. What was the reaction of the first staff member to Dango Chika?→I thought about putting it in a movie, but decided against it. I like this hairstyle because it looks the cleanest.

5. The story of the three archangels (Michael, Raphael, Gabriel)→ Raphael is the high-altitude communication equipment, Michael is the mobile weapon, and Gabriel is the land weapon that was also in Aso, and it also appeared in SS3.

6. Doesn't the person who was shot feel pain?→It hurts. Kogami also hurts. But I'm used to it. It's not that it doesn't hurt.

7. Is the room before going to the holo room similar to the one in John Wick?→The place where Kai and Kogami fought is inside an attraction similar to the Great Kumamoto Exhibition.

8. Who are the Japanese other than Tonami from Peace Breaker?→It disappeared.

9. General's startup sound is good.→ Mr. Koyama did a really great job in the effects department.

10. What about the whiskey on the desk in Kogami's room?→ Offering a glass to Saiga.

11. The meaning of the broken mirror.→Search for "Russia" and "hand mirror".

12. The room in the last scene?→This is Vermilion's room. Let's all look at Akane crying (I vaguely remember).

13. About Bokamoso→ There was a clear intention in making his Bokamoso look like that (skin color, etc.). thus! I asked for that visual. Maybe you'll hate me? Same as Kai.

14. Why was the anechoic chamber room number 4?→ That's what it means.

15. Why did the doctor use Saiga as a bait?→PROVIDENCE series of unfortunate accidents. He thought he was safe because Saiga was in an isolation facility and couldn't go outside.

16. Did AI try to obtain a body before or after Sibyl?→The timing is about the same. I made it with great irony. Sarcasm towards humans.

17. Why does Kasei stare at Yabuki in the scene regarding the right to investigate the Grozlang?→Good, let's chew the dried squid (nuance).

18. It was evening when Akane entered Saiga's room, but the clock in the room said 23:41?→Confirm.

19. What is the sunflower pattern on the carpet in Saiga's room?→It has meaning. Please chew on the flower language of sunflowers.

20. Is it intentional that the setting sun shines through the hole in the cross in the Yabuki Room?→ That's right.

21. Why does Frederica admire Yabuki?→Yabuki was the one who picked up her and elevated her to that position. The person Frederica is talking to at the end of SS3 is Yabuki.

22. Doesn't Yabuki look like Superintendent Wong from Infernal Affairs?→It's similar. Because that's where I modeled it.

23. Whose crime coefficient ↑ 300 belongs to when Vermilion points Dominator at you on the rooftop?→Things of light.

24. What is the meaning of the expression that Takumi gives Atsushi?→ ``That was a tough mission,'' he said. Let's think.

25. Is there any meaning in Kai putting down his rifle or throwing his pistol?→It means that you are aware of it. It's a code that says they don't have the will to fight that hard.

26. (About the tumbler with vermilion illustrations)→I'm still drinking sweet tea. Please let Shu's head cool down. To the fullest. Kogami in the back? That's two sides of the same coin.I want a tumbler that changes Ginoza's hairstyle depending on the temperature.

27. I like the way Frederica's hair swings.→It's about the assault type. I am particular about it.

🥰👏🏻

[anddreadful]

9 with teddy/borakov

"There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling" is actually canon for those dummies!!! the fic about that is here but it's old and it didn't cover the waking up so let's do something different. This is at an ambiguously pre-strahd-wedding point in the timeline:

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

"Nim's posted up in the library," Borakov announces gruffly, returning from the hallway. "Ireena's in that other room. Denethor's in the Baron's bedroom. Already asleep. Somehow he's taking up the whole damn bed, him and Pidlwick."

Teddy laughs, but her mind turns over the number of habitable rooms left in the ruined manor, including the bedroom they're in now. Borakov had declared earlier it was hers, overseeing the party's room selection like a herd dog fussing over his sheep. "Where will you sleep?"

Borakov grimaces. "Thought I'd sleep in the hall, honestly. There's some beds in the servants' quarters that're still usable, but I don't want to be that far."

"Oh."

This is a finely-appointed room: a thick rug, patterned wallpaper (only lightly singed in the fire), drapery around the four-poster bed. The large four-poster bed. She swallows.

"You... could certainly stay in here. With me. There's plenty of room."

Borakov's eyebrows rise, and heat crawls up her neck.

"Uh. Sure." He hesitates. "If you don't mind?"

"Not at all."

He looks around the room. "Yeah, I could drag one of those cots in here."

Her heart sinks. That hadn't even occurred to her. "Oh. Sure. But I mean, if you wanted to--" He is looking at her, and her face is hot, and she is going to die by suggesting this, she's certain. "-- the bed is big, so we could... share?"

His expression is utterly incomprehensible for a long, agonizing moment, and then he clears his throat.

"Yeah, I, uh. I guess we could do that. You're sure?"

Theodora nods vigorously, not trusting herself to speak again.

"Well then," he might be blushing, it's hard to tell. "Thanks, Ted."

His silly little nickname shouldn't light her up inside, but it does, it always does, no matter how much she tells herself he nicknames everyone. She tries to talk herself into being normal about this as she helps him with his armor, and they take turns splashing their faces at the basin in the corner (the water in the pitcher has only a very thin film of ash at the top), and she crawls into the bed, on the side further from the door, Borakov extinguishing the light cast on his hammer.

The sheets smell like smoke, but they still feel luxurious compared to her hard bedroll. It's hard to enjoy them, however, as she senses the shifting weight of Borakov getting under the blankets beside her, and she makes every possible effort to make herself tiny and unobtrusive on her side of the mattress.

There's a long pause. It's pitch black, and suddenly very quiet. She's facing away from him, and she can't feel his weight, or his body heat, so there's probably a respectable amount of space between them. Not that that would matter if anyone were to walk in on them.

Or magically spy on them.

"Borakov," she whispers, horror dawning on her, "What if Strahd sees?"

There's a beat before he answers, soft in the darkness. "What?"

She sits up, now, mortified fear overtaking her. "I should have thought of it sooner-- what if Strahd sees? This? Us? And assumes--"

"So what if he sees?" Borakov growls, sitting up to match her. She can just make out his shape in the dark. "It's none of the devil's business. If he doesn't like it, he can stock Barovia with more beds so we don't have to double up."

A hysterical little giggle escapes her. "I just mean--"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But even if we were..." Her heart leaps in her chest, but he changes course. "-- You don't owe him anything. That's all. You shouldn't worry what he thinks, Ted."

She suddenly feels very tired. "I think we have to, Borakov."

He's quiet for a moment. There's a rustle of blankets as he shifts, and she feels the warm brush of his fingers against hers. He pauses there, as if that's what he was looking for. As if he means to take her hand.

Then he thinks better of it, perhaps, and pulls away. "Get some sleep," he murmurs. "If anything happens, I'm right here."

Her throat suddenly thick, she nods. "Yeah. Okay."

Borakov lies back down, and she follows suit, if only to placate him. She won't sleep, she thinks -- how could she, here, with Borakov close enough to reach out and touch. Close enough to put them both in danger. Is it paranoia, to worry about Strahd's jealousy? Presumptive, even? Or is it stupid not to?

But sleep she does. The days are long in this place, and darkness always wins.

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

The first thing she registers, upon regaining the ability to register anything, is how very warm she is. It isn't warm in their room at the Blue Water Inn, or out in the wilderness, or even in Ismark's manor. So why is she so warm?

She realizes why with perfect, thoughtless acceptance, as if she were still dreaming: Borakov's arms are around her, her face tucked into his chest. He radiates heat like a fire, and the blankets are soft and heavy, his arms solid. She has never been more blissfully comfortable in memory, and she can't recall why she shouldn't stay like this forever, a veil of semiconsciousness drawn between her and the vague sense that if she were more alert, something would be wrong.

She stays there as long as she can, drifting in the gossamer shallows between sleep and waking. Borakov's deep breathing ghosts her hair, his chest rising and falling gently; his heartbeat thrums hot beneath his skin and nothing else in the world moves at all.

It's perfect.

Perfect things are fleeting, in Barovia. Borakov's breath stutters once as he stirs, and it wakes her fully, like breaking through the surface of the ocean into bracing air. She goes stiff in his arms, suddenly remembering everything. All the Strahd reasons she shouldn't be in Borakov's arms. All the Borakov reasons, too.

Maybe she can pretend to be still asleep, she thinks quickly. Let him make the awkward decision of disentangling them. She keeps her eyes closed and holds very, very still. Too still.

"Hi, Ted." He says, rough with sleep. She can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest, pressed against him like this.

But he doesn't move. She cracks an eye open, but her head is tucked beneath is, so there's no looking right at him without moving. And there's no moving without implicitly acknowledging the position they're currently in.

"Hi," she mumbles, into his shirt.

Borakov continues not moving, so she doesn't either. Theodora thinks she can hear his heart beating faster, now, than it was when he slept. Hopefully he can't feel hers, since it's probably doing something stupid.

Eventually he makes a noise like a grunt. "We should... probably get up."

"We don't have to," she says, on some insane impulse, emboldened, maybe, by his warmth. Greedy for it. "We could stay here until they come to get us."

She cringes at herself, at her bald desperation. But Borakov continues not moving, until he does. It's a small shift, an adjustment of his arms and his weight. Getting comfortable, she realizes.

"Yeah," he says, moving a hand to her back. Holding her to him. On purpose. "We could do that."

Her mind feels sticky, a mess of need and paralysis and fear and what's left of sleep clinging to her. Bad. She shouldn't be doing this. But she feels too raw to do anything but nuzzle deeper into his chest and inhale.

She wonders if Tatyana was as selfish as she is. If the curse punishes her for her desperate wanting the same way it punishes Strahd for his.

Give me a ship and a prompt number and i'll write a minific!

[mmorgfabric]

Lightning bolt mobile app iphone

LIGHTNING BOLT MOBILE APP IPHONE INSTALL

LIGHTNING BOLT MOBILE APP IPHONE UPGRADE

LIGHTNING BOLT MOBILE APP IPHONE PLUS

T his bolt like purple Tinder icon is meant to Boost your presence in your area. – Purple Lightning Bolt Boost icon ( Present at the bottom center )

LIGHTNING BOLT MOBILE APP IPHONE PLUS

If you have Tinder Plus membership, you can undo this action. Tapping on it has the same effect as swiping left on a profile. This Red Tinder icon is meant to Dislike a Profile. – The X icon ( Present on the bottom left – near the Rewind icon)

LIGHTNING BOLT MOBILE APP IPHONE UPGRADE

You would need to upgrade to Tinder plus, to use this icon 😐 …yeah it sucks! If you have by mistake Liked or Dis-liked a profile, you can undo it. – Rewind last swipe arrow icon ( Loop like arrow icon p resent at the bottom left corner)Īs the name reads, using this icon you can rewind your last swipe ie. Taping on this icon will show you the friends that are common to you and that person in Facebook. The number near the icon denotes the count. This icon shows the number of common friends you and the person in the profile have. – Common friends icon ( Group of people like icon present near the Profile name ) Note: Click here for 9 Tinder pick up lines that will work out instantly! These common interests are nothing but the Facebook pages you at the other person has liked in common Taping on it will take you to a screen that shows all the common interests. This open book icon shows the common interests you have with the person you looking at. – Tinder Book icon ( The open book like icon present near the Profile name ) Now tap on the Tinder Flame icon to again get back to the screen we were in. Here you can also see the list of new matches and initiate chat ( including Tinder Social matches ). Once you go there, you can select any contact and start chatting with them ( You can only chat with Matches ). T aping on this icon takes you to the Chats & Messaging section of Tinder. – Tinder Chat icon ( Present on the top right corner) Still confused? Check out this video to understand Tinder Social even better ( Turn On your Audio please ): You can be part of a group that is planning on an activity -or- an entire group can get connected to another group to hangout. Tinder social is a new feature by Tinder to get you connected with nearby interest groups. These 2 icons can be toggled to move to which ever mode you wish to be in. Ta ping on this icon takes you from the normal Dating mode  to the Social mode. – Group of people icon ( Present on the top center – near the Flame icon ) This is one the very useful Tinder icons. When you are out of the encounters page and lost inside the app, tapping on this flame icon will bring you back to the encounters screen instantly. Wh ile you are on the Encounters page, this icon is not useful. – Flame icon ( Present on the top center ) You need to tap on the Gray flame icon on the Top again. T aping on this icon takes you to your profile Dashboard ( From where you can navigate to other settings screens like Preferences screen, Upgrade to Tinder Plus screen etc. – Person icon ( Present on the top left corner ) Lets start from the Top left & move downwards: There are 10 Icons, buttons and symbols present on this screen. This is the screen that shows the details / Photos of each person near you. Keep scrolling… Lets go Screen by screen for easy & Quick understanding. Have a question about Lightning Bolt Theme? Please email us.In this post lets look at each Tinder icons meaning. More elemental launchers and dramatic mother nature wallpapers are being designed constantly. Want to see a specific launcher theme designed? We read to all comments and recommendations.

LIGHTNING BOLT MOBILE APP IPHONE INSTALL

Please install this theme and follow the simple instructions. This app is not supported by all launchers. This unique Lightning Bolt Theme requires a launcher to apply. ☀ Plus many more options to personalize your launcher experience ☀ Smooth 3D effects on screen and folder transitions ☀ Smart folders that auto sort and help organize your apps ☀ Home screen management is simple and easy to use ☀ Matching realistic glowing weather icons ☀ Lots of detailed black and purple theme icons ☀ High end purple lightning wallpaper background You may already have other thunder themes or purple themes on your phone, chances are you'll like looking at this dark storm launcher on your phone too! Give it a spin and apply it to your phone today. We designed this launcher theme to give your phone a nice style unlike other themes out there. Hey there, thanks for taking a look at my Lightning Bolt Theme! This elemental theme includes a sweet purple lightning background and detailed black and purple icons.

[honeyblockm]

before we cut to Alexandria (Manberg era cabinetduo)

1.

Between you is a desk and, an hour later, a wall, and your brother- let’s call him your brother, because you do not have to like your brothers, but you have to have them. And he is here, your brother.

2.

Between you and your brother is a desk and on the desk, paper that you pass over the distance, seventy centimeters, ten seconds each to write until the things you say to one another to hide what you really mean fill the page from corner to corner, side to side.

3.

Learning how to read between the lines is a lot like learning how to make bullets, or how to stop a baby from crying, or how to stop your friend from crying when he looks like he’s about to: you don’t, really, but one day you find yourself just doing it, probably doing it wrong. I’ll keep you safe: I’ll (I) keep (will) you (fail) safe.

4.

Here's your brother sitting on the windowsill with his heels tucked in, staring at the smoke he blows into the wind like he wishes that were him. He does, but it's just one of hundreds whispered into dandelion seeds that will invariably land on barren asphalt. Your brother is someone whose wants are countably infinite and does not realize it.

5.

You know three ciphers in total. One's for babies, one you teach your friend, the last you show your brother. It's numbers all the way down, signaling lowly your prevailing existence. Three, one, seven, eight. Shadows in the hallway. Five, five, four, nine. Shift. Lights under the door.

6.

Your brother finds a radio. Has a radio. Had, a radio. It’s yours on Sunday mornings and in the afternoons on weekdays. You spin the dials until you’re sure there’s only static, then you take it all apart, slowly. The sound travels through the air, unseen and unfelt. You leave a whisper in the transmitter.

7.

And there’s a memory, his lanky arms tucked between his knees, head against the open door of the van with a cigarette between his teeth; this other not-brother of a man who has never promised safety in so many words as the walls he built says I don’t do it inside because it’s not good for the baby. Says you (I) keep the (don’t) bad shit (want) outside (them) the walls (to) because it’s (see) not good (this) for who you love.

8.

Between you and your brother and the desk and the walls is not enough space. Too dark, too hot, choked out and the wallpaper too sticky. Too many shadows without form nor sight. You know, I don’t care if you smoke inside. He definitely doesn’t. The sunlight in the window feels solid, like it could hold your brother when he shrugs, stubs the cigarette out on the stone exterior, and looks down like he’s thinking of jumping.

9.

He won’t do it, you know. Your brother doesn’t look at you, looks at where the smoke has disappeared, wishing he could be like that: something with less of a heart and not so much desire. Something that doesn’t hit the ground when it’s thrown out a window. He won’t jump, even though he’s always thinking about it. You have to push him. Or better yet, leap and watch him dive after you.

10.

You conclude the fear comes from the lack of escape, because everything else has begun to slide over you. A boy holds the door open. A man. Whatever. On paper your brother draws a blueprint you can’t understand. He draws the lines tender, the way you make a bed when you’re waiting for someone to come sleep in it. Slides it over. The pen he holds out is an open question.

11.

We can have something better than cheap takeout every day and we can go out to eat on our lunch breaks and you know, I can always learn how to cook and teach you, too. It’s a good thing to know.

12.

Is it love? Do you throw someone from two stories up and watch their bones break below you and shout at them I love you? Do you need to? Don’t they know? Looking up at you. They know. They know. The only difference is who of us got here first.

13.

Say the building's on fire. Say the doorknob's melting. Say you take to the heat better. There’s a hand in yours, paper crumpled in your palm. Take it, smooth it out, do the math in your head. One, two, three, four, nine. I struck the match. I’m sorry. Suddenly it’s just you, and the window is gone.

14.

He turns the bitterness over, splits it apple-seed white at the core. Did you notice he’s no taller than you? Not even a little bit. Between you is a desk, and you trace the ring of water damage on its surface and wish you were the type of person who could crack it. For a long moment that is your only wish. Place your fist in the center of the ring. It fits. Now imagine swinging.

15.

It’s a summer night and you can’t hear the buzz of the flies in the room over all the shouting. It’s summer, so there’s always flies. You don’t even know where they come from, just that when you’ve finally managed to kill the two there’s a third hanging around your leg. Like they know where the rot is. Like they’re born here, young larvae chewing their way out of the wallpaper, tasting blood.

16.

He’s your brother, which you are comfortable with because you do not have to like your brother. You do not have to love him, and neither he, you. You have to have him. You have to not blow smoke at babies (who can bear nothing). You have to buy food when there’s none and you have to make the necessary phone calls. You have to be quiet, and be loud, and quiet again. You have to lock doors, turn off the lights except the one in the hallway. Until you don’t. Until you’re gone.

17.

One more thing. If you jumped, he'd jump after you. And if you walked through the front door?

Wake up every midnight for three years straight to unlock the front door. Wake up every morning at six to lock it. Wait until it gets unbearable, then wait until the unbearable becomes easy, becomes nothing. This is how we survive, long past the moment we think we should have.

18.

Your brother has one leg over the windowsill and he leans back, telling you to come look. Look at the wide ledge jutting from the side of the house. The air is so still. He holds your hand when you follow him onto the ledge. Streetlights start to come on. You can see all of them, signals pointing to far and distant places. Further than your sight goes. There’s a car downstairs and soon there will be nothing between you, and that car. What (where) will (will) you (you) do, (be?) then? Your brother is on your left.

This, this is what I can give you.

[niuniente]

My sister pointed out to me the saddest and most unbelievable case of a parallel universe, if the story is true. She discovered it from Raven Read’s on Youtube. Raven collects paranormal encounters from her listeners and then reads them out loud.

In this story, the story teller says that they are not from “here”. They grew up in San Diego and started school at age 5, on their birthday. They thought that this was the thing; when a child turned 5, they started their school on their birthday day.

Their mother and father had divorced when they were a baby but the parents took care of them with most lovingly, often spending Christmas together with father’s new girlfriend included. While the father worked for the city of San Diego, their mother was a young, Indian-American model, who often had gigs at LA. When mother was gone, the storyteller slept with a photo of their mother in a wedding dress, which was one of the client modeling gigs she had done.

When both of their parents were at work, the storyteller went to their grandparents’ care. One time in this happened again, and while being there, their grandfather said that there had been a rattlesnake outdoors and that the child should be careful.

Excited about the snake, the storyteller went out to look for it. They played for hours outdoors and actually found the snake, hiding in one of the outdoor building. The story-teller, who was 6yo at this time, run indoors from the backdoor to get their grandfather.

When they got inside the house, there was no on inside. There should have been grandparents, an uncle and visiting neighbors. The house also looked wrong; the sofa was different, the TV was newer and bigger than grandfather’s, the paneling of the living room was replaced with a blue wallpaper, and all the family photos on the walls were now paintings and pictures of unknown people.

The child thought that the adults had left outside and went to feed grandparents’ chicken, as they had chickens, pigs and doves. The child went out and there was no chicken coop. The fence of the pig’s shed was gone and there were no pigs either. No adults anywhere either.

Panicking that they had been left alone, the storyteller run to a neighbor who knew them - except their house was wrong in color and the person opening the front door was not their neighbor but an unknown woman in their 40′s.

A police was called to pick the storyteller up. At the station, the police called to the home number of this child, but instead of their father, an unknown person answered the phone. They went to the address with the child, and there were unknown people living there, and the suburban area name was wrong. On the exact address where the child’s home should have been stood an abandoned building.

They took the child back to the police station and tried to find the father. He should have been easy to find from the San Diego city reports, but no one with the father’s name was working in the city. The police asked the name of the storyteller’s school. They told it and sure enough, there was a school in that place, but it’s name wasn’t the same as their school’s (and apparently there was no record of a student with their name in the school system).

Then, the police asked if the child had had their fingerprints taken. They said yes, that had been done on the first school day. The police took their finger prints but found no match from their system.

In the end, no one was able to find anyone or anything from the storyteller’s life. All places were somehow wrong or named wrong or different. They were send to a doctor for a suspicion of a head trauma but they were completely healthy.

The storyteller said that they are still stuck “here”, in this world, wherever “this” is. No one has ever believed them and they  have gone from a doctor to another. Everyone just keeps telling that they must have had a violent childhood or they must have been abandoned at the roadside, and thus their mind came up with this fake other life in a world that doesn’t exist.

If you want to hear the whole story, you can listen to it here, story number 9.

[csilarry]

reverserry

this is a compilation of harry ~putting it in reverse~

Harry lives a double life. His public persona is a straight male sex symbol, defined by stunt relationships, brands, and ingenuity. His true self contrasts in his gender identity, sexuality, desire for intimate connection with fans, and his Home with Louis. No matter how fake his media persona is, Harry Styles™ is still a reality he has to live in.

I believe Harry uses upside down or backwards imagery to show that things are not as they seem (Harry Styles™ vs H), and to signify the dual realities he lives in.

Through this post, I have strung together the theories of many to reference to the dual realities of Harry’s expression, the A-side and the B-side:

The A-side and B-side are the two sides of phonograph records and cassettes; these terms have often been printed on the labels of two-sided music recordings. The A-side usually features a recording that its artist, producer, or record company intends to be the initial focus of promotional efforts and radio airplay and hopefully become a hit record. The B-side (or "flip-side") is a secondary recording that typically receives less attention, although some B-sides have been as successful as, or more so than, their A-sides. [x]

Through this definition, Harry’s A side is his media persona because it is the most popularly seen side of his life. It is easy and obvious to see. Those of us willing to reverse the tape see a whole new message. When Harry references the reverse (or B side), it’s a

metaphor for what we’re given in the media and what you see at surface level. But the reverse…what you don’t see…the truth [read more] from @headscarvesandtattoos

Dorothrry

"Home is a place we all must find, child. It's not just a place where you eat or sleep. Home is knowing. Knowing your mind, knowing your heart, knowing your courage. If we know ourselves, we're always home, anywhere." -Glinda, The Good Witch

As we know, home is a central concept to both Harry and Louis. [read more] from @bluewinnerangel

In Wizard of Oz, “home” is a place that existed inside of Dorothy; she had the power to go home inside of her the whole time. For Harry and Louis, “home” means something similar: a private, internal reality that they are each other’s home. A reality they can access mentally/emotionally whenever they want.

You Are Home newspaper ads

The wallpaper runs in both directions; it looks the same whether the text or the image is right side up. The archway and text are about (a private, internal alternate reality of) home, but the images refer to Harry’s House. Therefore, these ads express both the true and false realities.

Doors generally symbolize the threshold between here and somewhere else. Through the You Are Home campaign, Harry is letting us in to his internal reality through hints and clues behind the door. He is inviting us in, but it is up to us to walk through it.

Dimensions of Consciousness

According to @so-idialed-9 in this post, the use of arches, spirals, 369, and portal-like imagery by Harry and Louis are referencing a journey to a higher level of consciousness, which I interpret as an internal/mental alternate reality:

“In Louis' images, the sky or glass is shattering. Again symbolizing a new opening.”

“369 is a method to manifest your dreams because of what the individual numbers represent in numerology.”

“Arches symbolize a threshold, a decision to enter a new kind of time and space. Arches are very strong and thus offer protection, and they're portals that encourage you to move forward.”

Spirals are used “to represent a journey that leads to a higher level of knowledge about self and the world.”

Louis’ 369 merch imagery might also be referring to the alternate dimension in which he interacts with fans about his and Harry’s B-side:

“the boy on the ladder is in front of the shattered glass and he is spray painting Louis’ dead-eyed smiley face over the circular opening in the glass…The boy appears to have traveled through hole in the “Fourth Wall” of the Walls MV…we might interpret the space beyond the Fourth Wall as an alternate dimension…where artist and viewer interact.” [read more] from @genuinemusic

Psychedelics

We might also see the similarities in imagery & concepts between You Are Home, Shroom Bloom, and Alice in Wonderland as another version of a mental alternate reality, this time induced by psychedelics. [read more] from @skepticalarrie

“Sweet creature / We're running through the garden / Oh, where nothing bothered us."

Reminiscent of Dorothy and Alice entering dreamlike almost psychedelic alternate worlds that are bright and full of color and look to be whimsical, magical almost, gardens/alternate or parallel worlds full of flowers and colors and things that can't possibly be real. [read more] from @twopoppies

Harry’s egg/bubble

In the Fine Line album artwork, Harry is inside and in color (vibrant, full of life, dynamic), in direct opposition with him being outside and in black and white (static, lifeless). If we see these two images as Harry on the inside and outside of the same space/object, we might see it as two sides of the same coin, or dual opposing realities.

Mirror Writing & the Looking Glass

When Harry uses Eroda as the reverse of Adore, he is using mirror-writing. Literary figures such as Da Vinci used mirror-writing to represent a reverse in perception and to challenge the rigidity of the society and tradition.

The term mirror-writing is more closely associated with text; if we are referencing the reverse depiction of something else, such as a concept or visual, the term “looking glass” is used. The most famous example is “Through the Looking Glass” by Lewis Carrol, in which Alice goes down the rabbit hole into the flip reality of her world.

“When you look in a mirror, you see a backwards image of yourself, but it’s also representative of looking beyond the surface of the glass of the mirror. It symbolizes an alternate universe or place where things are contrary to the real world… anything that uses the looking-glass crosses over into a bizarre universe. It usually means unpredictability and strange happenings [and]…. symbolizes consciousness and its ability to reflect reality in reversed words and visuals in literature.” [read more] from @aliensyndrome

If we expand our view of Eroda from simply a mirror-writing perspective, we can see it as a looking-glass society:

“Everything about the town is odd and eerie. It discusses life and death. With it being the reverse term of Adore, then it flips the definition. Instead of adoration, it’s condemnation. Instead of invitation, it’s entrapment. Instead of tradition, it’s counterculture. Instead of normal, it’s eccentric. Everything about Eroda exists in the uncanny valley. it looks pleasant. It feels pleasant, but something is off and no one can quite put their finger on what… An advertisement for a beautiful oasis getaway that is more sinister in foundation” [read more] from @aliensyndrome

Back-masking

Similar in concept is back-masking. In this case, the reverse message is expressed through reversed audio (typ. reversed lyrics). Harry used back-masking in Sunflower Vol. 6, where he reverses the word “sunflower” and She, hinted by “around 1:32,” where he says “I want Lou, yes I want Louis.”

More controversially, he might have also back-masked some lyrics in Fine Line and Adore You, but that’s up to you to decide😉

Harry’s House vs Harry’s Home

I think this album will tell the story of Harry’s two-sided truth: the image is Louis’ public house; showing it upside down means is not really home, just the public facade.

His expression is contemplative. Perhaps he is wondering what the point is in playing pretend when all that it leaves him is an empty shell (mostly bare room, eggshell white?). Where he feels like a toy to be used at the benefit of others. He might be thinking that keeping up the house/facade costs him more than it is worth:

An ‘upside down mortgage’ or 'to go upside down on a house’ is a saying that basically means that “the owner owes more than the house is worth”.

Anything upside down, (consider Stranger Things) can signify a parallel universe, a different world. In the Harry’s House album art, home is a parallel universe (alternate reality as I call it). His worlds are split so aggressively that when he really is Home, it seems like a different life entirely.

Harry is dressed as a doll with ballet shoes, indicating a performance or playing pretend. He has turned the whole dollhouse upside down to indicate it is the false reality.

HS3 announcement video

Played forward, the message the general population understands is Harry Styles™ leaves home, lives a busy, exciting traveling life, enjoys stepping on stage, and raises a house— because haha cute it’s Harry’s House and there’s Harry and a house.

Of course, when we look closer, there is a B side. The audio is reversed, so we know the real video is to be watched in reverse: the facade of a house starts to smoke and it comes down around H (tearing down everything he’s built?). He survives the “stunt” by standing still, a Steamboat Bill Jr reference [read more] from @vlnylstyles

Instead of a smiling Harry ready to perform, we see a tired Harry, unable to keep up the Facade anymore.

He leaves the stage and his performance through 27 clips of chaos to go home to the 28th clip, (thanks @bluewinnerangel) the daffodils (symbolizing queerness, 10th anniversaries and Louis' favorite flower).

The Harry’s House announcement video also references the play A Doll’s House by Henri Ibsen. In the play, Nora realizes that she’s just been playing the roles others want her to, being used as a plaything. She eventually leaves her husband and family to be her true self. Similarly, Harry is only a person with agency when he’s off that stage. On stage, he’s a doll in a dollhouse doing stunts. He stays still and goes through the motions while he’s also out-of-body, an onlooker of his fake life. He’s living what appears to be the picture-perfect life but actually has many secrets. People don’t love him, they love the idea of him. [read more] from @infinitelymint

The Matrix

I won’t go too in depth here bc I have spoken about my thoughts on Harry and The Matrix in [this post], but if the red and blue characters in AIW represent the pills in the Matrix, we can see them as symbolic of a duality of self or dual realities, explained well by @genuinemusic in this in-depth AIW analysis:

The idea of two selves - one enlightened and one ignorant - is represented in the film by Neo’s reflection in Morpheus’ sunglasses. In this moment, he has two selves and two possible futures. Put together, we can begin to interpret Harry’s performance with his counterpart as a struggle between two selves.

Outlook

HS2 brought many references of A-side/B-side reverserry, but HS3 materials so far aren’t simply describing the B-side. It’s hard not to see the facade coming down, the upside down house, sitting outside the sphere, the blue character in As It Was disappearing, and the reference to A Doll’s House as Harry dismantling his A-side.

Three clicks of the ruby slippers brought Dorothy home, does the third album bring Harry home?

[bts-trans]

210802 Big Hit’s Tweet

[네이버 포스트] 빌보드 핫 100차트 9주 연속 1위한 7ㅏ수 ㅂ1ㅌ1엣스 방탄화면 2탄 볼 아ㅁ1들 😏 여71봐 💃🕺 도망7ㅏㅈ1��� ✋ (@ https://m.post.naver.com/viewer/postView.naver?volumeNo=32090139&memberNo=51325039)

[Naver Post] ARM1s who want to see a 2nd round of Bangtan wallpapers* of the art1sts BTS who placed at no.1 for 9 consecutive weeks on the Billboard Hot 100 chart 😏 1ook he7e 💃🕺 Don’1 7un away ✋

(T/N:* ‘방탄화면/Bang-tan-hwa-myeon’ is a combination of ‘방탄소년단/Bang-tan-so-nyeon-dan’, which is BTS’s Korean name, and ‘배경화면/Bae-gyeong-hwa-myeon’, which means ‘wallpaper/lockscreen’.)

(T/N: As ‘Permission to Dance’ and ‘Butter’ have been both No.1 and No. 7, the Korean hashtags incorporate the numbers 1 & 7 in place of certain Korean alphabets.)

Naver Post Translation

Keep reading for a plain text version of the blog post! For a picture edit version, please check out our twitter post!

Title: [BTS] 아미들의 월요병 치료사 방림이 힘차게 입-짱!

Title: [BTS] ARMYs' Monday blues doctor Bangbell is here with a burst of energy!

아-하!

Hi-A!

(T/N: Stands for ‘Hi ARMY’, which is how Bangbell always starts these posts.)

아미들! 지난 주말도 잘 보냈나요? 아미들의 공식(?) 자칭 (?) 타칭 (?) 월요병 치료사 방림이가 빠르게 돌아왔습니다 (두둥)

ARMYs! How was last weekend? ARMYs’ official(?) self-declared (?) generally acknowledged (?) Monday blues therapist Bangbell has quickly returned (babam)

아미들이 방탄화면을 예쁘게 바꾸는 모습을 보며 혼자 뿌듯했던 방림이,, 아미들이 너무너무 좋아해 줘서 감동적이었던 방림이 아미들이 좋아해 주니깐 방림이도 좋아,,! (뿌듯)

Bangbell, who was silently proud while watching ARMYs change their pretty Bangtan wallpapers,, Bangbell, who was so touched that ARMYs liked them so so much Since ARMYs like them, Bangbell is happy too,,! (proud)

그래서 이번에는! Permission to Dance 뮤직비디오 현장 방탄화면을 준비해보았습니다

So this time! I prepared Bangtan wallpapers from the Permission to Dance music video set

긴 말 필요 없이  바로 만나보러 가실까요?!

Without further ado, shall we go see them?!

삐비빅.... 삐빅.. .. 삐빅.. 삐빅… 

Beep be-beep.... Be-beep… .. Be-beep… Be-beep...

(기억 조작 준비 완료)

(Memory fabricating preparation complete)

여기가 국내인지 해외인지..?  바로 기억 조작 완. 여기가 휴양지고 여기가 천국이다..

Is this from inside the country or from overseas..? Memory fabrication is now complete. This is a holiday destination, this is paradise..

그리고 생각보다 아미들의 반응이 핫했던 일코 배경화면들! 뮤직비디오 버전 도 당연히~ 당연히~ 준비했어얌! 

And subtle wallpapers that had a hotter reaction from ARMYs than expected! Of course~ of course~ I prepared* the music video version!

(T/N: *Said cutely.)

그리고 7월 31일에 업로드된 Butter : Epilogue Film도 보셨나요?  우리 아미들의 심장이 남아나지 않을 것 같아서 그 여운을 조금이라도 더 느끼시고, 너무너무너무 더운 요즘 아미들의 더위가 조금이라도 사라졌으면 하는 마음에서 준비한 보너스 사진 갑니다…!

And did you see the Butter : Epilogue Film that was uploaded on July 31st? I don’t think ARMYs’ hearts will be able to make it until the end, so to allow you to feel at least a little more of its lingering after-effects, And with the hope that the heat, which is making ARMYs feel sososo hot these days, will go away at least by a little, I prepared bonus pictures, let’s go…!

방림이_휴대폰_하드_탈탈_텁니다.jpg

Shaking_Empty_Bangbell’s_Phone_Storage.jpg

아미분들이 바다 사진을 너무 좋아하셔서 (tmi:방림이도 제일 좋아함) 몇 장 더 골라보았어요,,! 랜선으로라도 즐겨보자 방탄과의 바다 캉스.. (??)(눈물)

ARMYs liked the ocean pictures so much (tmi:It is my favorite too) so I picked out a few more shots,,! Let’s at least enjoy a vacation by the sea with BTS through the internet.. (??)(tears)

마지막으로! '컴퓨터, 노트북 배경화면도 달라!'라는 아미들을 위해

Lastly! For the ARMYs saying ‘Give me wallpapers for computers and laptops!’

뿅- 던지고 갑니다!

Boop- I’ll toss this out and go!

청춘이다.. 청춘이야...... 이게 영화지.... 영화 감상 다른 데서 할 필요 X....

It’s youth.. This is youth...... This is what you call a movie.... You don’t need to go watch a movie anywhere else….

방림이가 준비한 방탄화면 1탄과 2탄! 만족하셨나요? 아미분들의 월요병 치료에 조금이라도 힘이 되었길 바라며! (feat. 이번 주도 힘내보자고.. 견뎌보자고..)

Round 1 and round 2 Bangtan wallpapers that I prepared! Are you satisfied? I hope that this contributed at least a little bit of energy to curing ARMYs’ Monday blues! (feat. Let’s charge up our strength for this week as well.. Let’s try to get through it..)

방림이도 아미들을 위해 최대한! 빨리! 돌아올 수 있도록 노력해보겠습니다! 무더위 조심하세요 아미들! (선크림 필수!)

I will also try to come back As fast! As possible! For ARMYs! Be careful of the extreme heat, ARMYs! (Sunscreen is a necessity!)

아-뿅!

A-Poof!*

(T/N: *Short for “Bye ARMY! Poof!”, which is how Bangbell always ends these posts.)

[Note]

본 포스트는 BIGHIT MUSIC에서 직접 운영하는 포스트입니다.

This Naver Post account is personally run by BIGHIT MUSIC.

[End Note]

Trans cr; Inseo | Spot Check cr; Aditi & Faith Typeset cr; XPXOXD @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

[miceenscene]

'tis the damn season

frankie/reader | childhood friends to lovers | pre-canon

wc: 1.8k/2.5k

summary: At one point in your lives, you knew Frankie better than anyone else on earth. When did that change?

warnings: none

an: don't let anyone tell you that second person doesn't work from another character's perspective, least of all yourself while editing

Masterpost | ao3

Chapter 2: Who am I Related to?

December 8, 2012 18:57

Hudson’s was a shitty bar just up highway 210 outside of Fort Bragg, the nearest watering hole to the base as the crow flies.

As a result, it served pretty damn near exclusively military personnel. When it changed ownership about four years back, the new management decided to reflect that and so the place looked like the Fourth of July and Top Gun had thrown up on it. Never mind that Fort Bragg was an Army base. Still, they had cheap booze and greasy food that was far better than the commissary, so it was always busy.

Pope had texted the usual suspects a few hours ago that he was heading to Hudson’s that evening, making Frankie immediately ditch his plans of drinking alone for drinking with Pope and whoever else showed up. Most likely just Benny and Ironhead now that Redfly had semi-retired down to Florida. It was a short drive to the bar from the dorms on base, but it was enough to make Frankie groan and press hands to his lower back as he got out of his car and made his way inside.

Pope was sitting at the bar and didn’t look up from texting on his phone as Frankie gingerly eased into the stool next to him.

“Hey, Fish,” Pope said, rereading the email.

“Hey.” At the bartender’s attention, Frankie pointed to Pope’s beer before daring a slight back stretch.

Pope sent his email and then looked over. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just finished PT.”

He chuckled once. “Back still fucked?”

“More tired than fucked anymore,” Frankie managed, shaking his head and wincing. The bartender delivered his beer, and Frankie took a swig. “When did we get old?”

“¿De qué estás hablando ‘nosotros’, viejo?”

Frankie jabbed an elbow and grinned slightly down at his next swig. “Culero.”

“Hey, before everyone gets here–” Pope looked at him, an oddly serious expression on his face for their usual bar. “I found out today you haven’t re-enlisted yet.”

Frankie immediately dropped his gaze to the suddenly very interesting glass in his hand. “Ah, no. No, I haven’t.”

“I’m trying to pull strings to get Benny into our unit full-time. I think he’d fit well with the team. Then Simmons tells me you haven’t signed your new papers yet. So what’s up?”

Frankie glanced over to see Pope still focused on him. “Nothing, nothing. I… I’m still thinking about it.”

He chuckled. “What’s there to think about?”

“We all want out someday, right? If we’re lucky enough to choose when we leave.”

“Yeah, but there’s thinking and thinking.” Pope smacked his shoulder. “What – are you gonna become a real estate agent like Redfly?”

No. Definitely not. Even just the idea of shilling condos was enough to make Frankie’s eyes glaze over. But still–

“Real estate agents make more money than we do.”

Pope made a considering face for a moment then brushed it off. “Yeah, but you’d miss it. You’re like me. We like the rush.”

Frankie nodded slightly. This is why he was still just thinking about it. It wasn’t a small thing to walk away from fourteen years with the Army. Especially since everyone knew the retirement benefits were absolute shit until you hit twenty. But he could already tell, he didn’t have another six years in him. He wasn’t even sure he had another deployment.

“You know the deadline’s New Year’s, right?” Pope said, cutting through his thoughts.

“Yeah, I know. I have some leave I have to take before the year’s out anyway.”

Pope nodded. “Good. Clear your head, get some perspective. See how fucking boring civvy life is, and then come back Jan 2 and join my team.”

Frankie smiled wryly; Pope always could make anything sound easy. “Something like that.”

“You have holiday plans then?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the bar.

Frankie sucked in breath. “I guess I’ll go back to my parents’. My mom’s been wanting me to visit for a while now.”

“How long’s it been?”

“I saw them in DC last summer, but I haven’t been back home… since I joined Delta.”

“Remind me where they’re at.”

“Up north. Little town in the middle of nowhere. Still in the same house I grew up in.” He could picture the wreath on the door, the twinkling lights his dad always strung across the front fence every December. A matching set used to be hung on the fence exactly opposite across the street. Who lived there now, he wondered. Would they put the tree in the front window too?

“Soldier coming home for Christmas. Sounds like a Hallmark movie.”

“Fuck you,” Frankie replied as the others finally arrived.

--

Frankie got his answer as he ducked out the front door of his parent’s house about a week later. His breath immediately fogged as he sucked in a few calming breaths of night air, the pressure in his head slowly levelling. Out in the still darkness, the noise level coming from the living room was finally manageable. Inside, with all of his cousins and his aunts and uncles and the music and everyone talking over each other and the heater set far too high for the number of people inside– he… he just needed a break.

Seven hours was a decent stint for his first day. He’d be around longer tomorrow. Wading in. That was the key. Because he was now the kind of person that had to treat time with his family like running a marathon. Apparently.

He walked down to the twinkling front fence, making a mental note to shovel the front walk tomorrow, and stopped. The house across the street – your house, as it would forever be in his mind – was completely dark. A small sign posted in the front yard announced some sort of home refurbishment company was going to be arriving soon. No doubt they would come in, strip away wallpaper and old tile and heart to paint it all beige and granite for the quick resell.

He hadn’t had the heart to ask his mother yet how long the house hadn’t belonged to your family. No need for another reminder of how much time had passed, how much he’d missed. He had more than enough already.

The front door opened behind him, casting a temporary warm glow across the dark snow, and his dad stepped out, pipe in hand. He meandered down the front steps to join Frankie at the gate, puffing a few times before speaking.

He shook his head. “It’d break his heart to see it so empty, but I understand why she sold,” he said, looking at the forlorn house with him.

“How long ago?” Frankie asked.

“Few months. Not too long after the funeral.” Dad looked his way for a moment. “I’ll give it ten minutes before I tell your mother you left.”

“I… thanks,” he replied weakly.

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back.”

Dad nodded slowly, leaving just the pipe smoke wafting between them for a minute. “Take it slow, no need to rush.”

“Thanks.” He stepped through the gate, fishing in his pocket for his car keys.

“Francisco,” he said, making Frankie stop and look at him. “We’re glad you’re back.”

Frankie just nodded and went to his car. Even though he couldn’t bear another minute in the noisy press of his loved ones, the idea of going back to his lonely hotel room was truly abysmal. So after some finagling with the ignition, he started the engine and headed to the one bar he’d ever been to in his hometown.

--

There were Christmas lights in the window and a dancing Santa on the bar as Frankie walked in. Some sort of forcibly cheery holiday classic played over the speakers tucked between quirky memorabilia that hung over every square inch of wall space. And even though public smoking had been outlawed by the state well over a decade ago, cigarette stench had sunk into the very foundation of the place.

It was nothing like Frankie remembered. But it would do.

Eyes automatically sweeping across the moderately busy room for a Thursday night, he headed for a stool at the far end of the bar, ordering a beer when the bartender came by. It was just one step up from swill, but comfortably numbing in its mediocrity. He looked across the room again, checking for familiar faces this time and finding none. No surprise there. A decade was a long time, and really he hadn’t been around too much for the years before that too.

There were couples on dates here, friend groups, some sort of girls’ night happening in the corner, a few loners like him hovering at the bar. Most everyone was smiling, talking, laughing so hard their whole bodies shook. A whole world of Normal. And Frankie was a tourist.

Pope was right. He couldn’t go back to this. He couldn’t make it through one whole day with blood relatives anymore. What was he thinking? That he could just settle into a normal life like the last decade of his work was nothing? Get a 9-to-5 and a mortgage and a girl – not that he’d ever had too much luck in that department. Especially when there was one girl that eclipsed all others, and he didn’t even know her phone number any more.

The door opened, making the Santa on the bar dance, and every thought in Frankie’s head immediately stopped. His eyes drew wide as he stared, jaw barely restrained from slapping against his chest. Was it really – course it was, there wasn’t anyone else it could be. A whole century could pass, and he’d still know that face.

It was you.

Live, in the flesh you. Cheeks pinked from the wind, haloed by the street lights outside, wrapped in a truly astonishing number of woolen layers. Not a half-remembered fantasy, but Real and breathing and even more beautiful than his memory had claimed.

He watched you shake a few flurries out of your hair and stomp the excess snow off your boots, shutting the door behind you as you waved to the bartender. Your gaze swung across the bar, completely skimming past him, and landed on the girls’ night in the corner. You smiled. He stared.

You began to head over to the people you were obviously here to meet. On nothing but pure instinct, he immediately got out of his stool and followed you. Falling into step behind you, he stretched a hand forward to hook a few fingers inside your elbow.

You looked back at him, and for a heart-breaking breath there was no recognition in your eyes.

Till he gave you a half-smile and said, “Hey Bo.”

You blinked, mouth dropping open. “Frankie?” you asked.

He nodded.

Your astonishment ballooned so wide it froze your whole face solid for a moment. Then you laughed, out of far more shock than amusement, and gave him a smile all his own. “Oh my god!! You’re here!”

You immediately wrapped him in a hug. And though it took him a moment to return it, for the first time in ten whole years, he was home.

Chapter 3: Not my Homeland Anymore

taglist: @kelenloth ; @darnitdraco ; @gracie7209 ; @616wilsons ; @icanbeyourjedi ; @astroboots ;

[mx-misty-eyed]

A bunch of SAI livestream observations

I literally just copied and pasted the notes I took so I'm sorry if they make no sense.

Chronological notes:

-livestream starts by showing a birds-eye view of Dema and playing Good Day

-Tyler looks really depressed

-bishops (Sally/Sacarver and Dan/Lisden) introduce TOP as “the popular band, Twenty One Pilots” - trying to portray them as popular and likable to get more people to listen

-Sacarver says the dragon (Trash) is “kinda dark” - implies that Trash is good

-Tyler’s hair is “number 16 cotton candy” - further shows how Dema controls/catalogs everything

-“there’s not twenty one pilots, there’s only two guys!” - maybe it doesn’t mean anything but that phrase is *the* phrase that will piss off almost any clikkie

-bishops ask where Josh is and if he’s hiding, Sacarver says “come here, you little moron” - Josh isn’t with Dema because they don’t know where he is, plus they wouldn’t call him a moron if he was on their side

-Sacarver wants Tyler to play Stressed Out because she’s always stressed (due to working with Lisden) and because “it’s my favorite” - Stressed Out is the song that made TOP popular, she may be stressed due to working with Lisden because she’s the one that seems to want to escape Dema more, while he seems to buy into the message/concept of Dema more

-Tyler tunes out bishops and then starts singing Choker

-Bishops grab Tyler after Choker and force him onto another set, where Stressed Out plays.  Bishops stay onstage during Stressed Out - again, Stressed Out made TOP popular, which is what the bishops want

(okay i know the bishops are bad but that last image would make a badass computer wallpaper)

-Stressed Out fades into Migraine

-“thank God it’s Friday/because Fridays will always be better than Sundays” - probably doesn’t mean anything, but the livestream was on a Friday

-Josh counted for Tyler on “depressssssing”, but not verbally like in the studio version

-Migraine background has the psi symbol

-Migraine transitions into Morph, with a video of a crowd from the Trench era (Tyler interacts with the ‘crowd’ with a call and answer)

-Tyler doesn’t say “Josh Dun” in Morph

-Morph turns into Holding on to You (“entertain my faith” part) with a rain/lightning effect

-right before “lean with it rock with it”, there’s static and it cuts to the bishops who advertise SAI on the second set (blue/pink/yellow rainbow)

-“they just don’t play hits like this on the radio these days” - “this song will never be played on the radio” from Fairly Local

-after, a ‘commercial’ plays

-the first commercial has the black slipcase on the right and the blue slipcase on the left.  In the back, from left to right: cassette, three cd’s stacked on top of each other (white on top, pink in the middle, blue on the bottom), blue box (limited edition box set sold on their website), lyric booklet

-“Dema is bringing you this music collection that is vibrant with saturation” - the Twitter banner was slowly desaturated while in the process of announcing the album, ads for SAI said “feel the saturation!”

-Shy Away, Choker, and Mulberry Street are mentioned during the first ad - two out of three singles released before the album dropped and the most propaganda-like song

-After commercial, Tyler plays Mulberry Street - Lisden said it was his favorite (likely b/c it’s propaganda)

-Mulberry Street starts inside but Tyler goes outside to a street (Mulberry St.) with extras that are ‘frozen’ in place

-Mulberry Street was the whole song (or almost the whole song), while most songs played were only a small segment - again, it’s Dema’s propaganda, so they want it to go on longer than older songs

-after Mulberry Street, the intro to Lane Boy plays (“why do I kneel to these concepts?  Tempted by control, controlled by temptation.  Stay low, they say, stay low”)

-Lane Boy has people with gas masks in the background

-“Don’t trust a perfect person and don’t trust a song that’s flawless” is repeated several times - later, Sacarver calls the album “perfect”

-Lane Boy transitions into Redecorate

-Chlorine plays next, background has barrels like in music video

-“Running for my…” (Tyler himself doesn’t say the word “life”)

-After Chlorine, Shy Away plays with obviously fake snow/mountainous background.  Chandeliers are hanging and a fancy dining table is set

-Bishop commercial after Shy Away (“break the cycle in half”) plays, bishops have nosebleeds

-Sacarver says “nothing is missing from this collection”, yet SAI has 11 tracks while past albums have 14

-cd’s in front are swapped (black on left and blue on right), and the three cd’s are in a different order (pink on top, blue in the middle, white on the bottom)

-“But remember, you should-” *static* - bishops are likely being controlled by someone else, as it’s unlikely that the Banditos would have the power to cut them off

-Cuts to Mulberry St. set but darker (dusk/nighttime)

-The Outside plays next with Josh wearing skeleton hoodie - The Outside was mentioned in the commercial

-when water is poured on the street after The Outside, it forms a footprint

-Tyler sits in a boat named “Oh” with a lamp and an artificial night sky

-Plays Heathens with a ukulele (no frog croaks)

-transitions into Trees, which is normally the last song

-during Trees, the stars start to blur together (it looks like a timelapse of the North Star)

-Josh in Bandito clothing with a torch is shown (torch looks slightly different than in music vids), then it cuts to Jumpsuit

-Jumpsuit background is a valley like in the music video but it looks greener and more manufactured

-After, Heavydirtysoul plays with a flaming car on set (kinda like in the mv)

-Tyler looks upwards during “can you save my heavydirtysoul?”, looks like he’s pleading (sorry the last pic is so blurry(face))

-background is a road similar to the one in the music video

-Josh keeps crossing his drumsticks during HDS

-Commercial break with hosts (bloody and Sacarver has overexaggerated makeup, plus they have yellow eyes)

-“Now that you’ve heard some of this collection, you must be just like us”

-”Sometimes I close my eyes to try to escape, I just can’t believe how unbelievably perfect this collection is!”  “You know you can’t escape, Sally.”  “Yes, I know.”

-”We’ve come for you”, “We got people on the way, no chances” - “We come for you, no chances”, “We got people on the way” (lyrics from No Chances (which they didn’t play))

-Commercial zooms out to show that it’s on a TV with Tyler, Josh, and others watching - we don’t believe what’s on TV

-Saturday plays, during Jenna dialogue, Jenna has a pink streak in her hair and her top is half-blue, half-white

-Jenna has a yellow phone (Trench) while Tyler has a red one (Dema)

-stutter/pause between “might get” and “loud” happened twice, not just once

-after, they dance onto another set and play Level of Concern

-LOC background looked kind of like Josh’s in the music video (glow in the dark stars against a dark background)

-“In a world where this is as good as it gets, and we miss you, we really do”

-Fades into Ride, background is pink scales and what looks like sideways palm trees?

-Car Radio plays, Josh and Tyler are wearing black masks instead of white ones

-pause after “I liked it better when my car had sound”

-right after Car Radio, an alarm sounds and red lights flash, people run around in the background as Tyler walks onto Mulberry St. set

-Never Take It plays, Tyler comes up close to the camera (almost like in LOC music vid)

-Heavydirtysoul car is on fire to the right of the set

-Trash figurine is on the ground, it looks larger than usual

-Tyler walks back to first set and sits between bishops, who are frozen, and sings “I know it’s over/I was born a choker/nobody’s coming for me” from Choker

-fades out and cuts to bird’s-eye view of the set with crew members clapping and cheering, although even that feels subdued and fake

-shows Josh and Tyler with bishops in background, then credits roll

Various observations:

-Josh’s drumsticks are yellow - furthers concept that he’s against Dema

-SAI songs were generally played longer than older songs

-Bishops call it a “collection”, not an “album”

-Guitarists/trumpet player have one of Tyler’s tattoos on shirt

-Tyler has a pink ring and a blue ring on his left ring and index fingers, respectively (Shy Away music vid)

-various easter eggs on Mulberry St. set (sorry for the quality/size of the pictures)

(says “Rosie’s lounge)

-The door numbers on the Mulberry St. set coincide with the dmaorg.info error message numbers (at the bottom of the message)

-Josh’s bandito mask looks different (has a design on it that looks like a lion?) (unless I’m dumb and it was always like that)

-FPE: the Few the Proud the Emotional (Blurryface), Failed Perimeter Escape (Trench), now Food Petrol Etc (SAI)

-Tyler looks less energetic when singing SAI songs (because it’s Dema propaganda)

-after the show, instrumental versions of The Hype, We Don’t Believe What’s on TV, and Doubt were played.  WDBWOTV is obvious, The Hype has the lyric “just don’t believe the hype”, and Doubt has the lyric “gnawing on the bishops”

-in the Q&A, they said Josh would backflip off the piano, but he didn’t.  They also didn’t do the deathdrop (thing where Tyler just kinda falls backwards)

-Stream was exactly one hour long (started at 8 PM EST, ended at 9 PM EST)

-The livestream ad doesn’t have a crossed O in the only of “one night only”

Josh’s drum set designs:

Trash:

Alien:

Psi symbol 1:

Psi symbol 2:

FULL SONG LIST:

[song number]. [song title] - [album] ([design on Josh’s drum]): [additional notes]

Asterisks indicate songs that transition into each other smoothly

Good Day - SAI (Josh not present): not sang by Tyler (live, that is)

*Choker - SAI (Trash)

Stressed Out - Blurryface (alien)

Migraine - Vessel (alien)

Morph - Trench (alien)

Holding on to You - RATB/Vessel (alien)*

[Dema commercial 1]

Mulberry Street - SAI (Trash)

*Lane Boy - Blurryface (alien)

Redecorate - SAI (alien)

Chlorine - Trench (alien)*

Shy Away - SAI (Psi Symbol 1)

[Dema commercial 2]

The Outside - SAI (Trash)

*Heathens - Suicide Squad soundtrack (Josh not present)

Trees - RATB/Vessel (Josh not present): usually played at end of concert)

[Josh as a Bandito]

*Jumpsuit - Trench (alien)

Heavydirtysoul - Blurryface (alien)*

[Dema commercial 3]

Saturday - SAI (Psi Symbol 2)

*Level of Concern - single (alien)

Ride - Blurryface (alien)

Car Radio - RATB/Vessel (alien)*

[alarm sounds]

Never Take It - SAI (Trash)

Anyways, thats all I have for now but if I missed anything, let me know and I’ll add it!  (I’ll be sure to credit you ofc)

-Admin Crow

[ecliterature]

Ménage à Gretchen

Gretchen trailed her laquered red nails down the wallpapered halls of Crestmire Manor, her assisted living facility. What a sad, 1980s, daytime television backdrop for my golden years, she thought. Couldn’t they at least consult the recent Laura Ashley neutrals? This pale pink bullshit makes my skin look ghastly in the daylight.  

It was 10.45pm, and the halls were silent, empty. All of the Crestmire residents had long been tucked into their adjustable beds, Eszopiclone or Zaleplon administered. “No more benzos for us oldies. Oh no. Heaven forbid we have any fun any more. Not even when we’re trying to sleep,” Gretchen muttered. She walked languidly, acrylic tips brushing the walls as she passed, leaving the faintest imprint. Grandma graffiti. Still here. 

Gretchen stopped when she got to room 207. Henry’s room. She took a deep breath, rearranged her wine-red chiffon robe to better frame her cleavage. Her trusty crimson wrap, it had covered and revealed her in turn for nearly 3 decades now, since her 60th birthday. She had scrupulously hand-washed the stains out of it for years and now that those stains came less often she almost wished she had left a few. Just a few. Reminders of specific men, specific moments. Steven in Paris in 1996, when she was 62 and freshly divorced (for the third time) and took her first alimony cheque to the travel agency. Picked up her plane ticket and the 40 year old travel agent, Steven, and went for her own little vacance. She lived in that red see-through number, barely saw Paris beyond the arrondissement out her window. She fucked and she fucked and she fucked. 

Or her 70th birthday, when Gregory was drinking a scotch while fucking her – always the multitasker – and nearly lost consciousness when he came, spilling the drink all down her and the open robe. The salty, muddy fragrance of Gregory’s scotch mixed with his cum. She wouldn’t mind smelling that again. If only Gregory hadn’t passed away 5 years ago, age 86, surrounded by his dearly devoted wife and children. What they didn’t know. What Gretchen could tell them about their precious Gregory and his proclivities. 

The ding of the elevator down the hall wakes Gretchen from her memories. Better get inside, can’t get caught by one of these narcing young orderlies who obviously aren’t getting enough themselves. She scratches her acrylics on Henry’s door – shukka shukka, shukka shukka, shukka shukka – just like Dolly in 9 To 5. 

Henry opens the door and he, too, is in a robe, pleated blue velour. Henry’s a newer resident at Crestmire, having moved in a few months ago. He’s young – 76 – and still plays golf, and it’s a damn mystery why he’s at Crestmire at all, an independent man like that. The ladies say it’s because he lost his wife and he’s lonely; the men guess there’s conniving children involved, wanting his house for their own. Gretchen listens to the talk but doesn’t participate. What business is it of hers why he’s here? He’s one of the only men in this place who can still get hard without Viagra and that’s all she cares about. He’s a horny old goat and, Gretchen sighs, “I guess I’m a horny old goatess.” 

“What’s that about my goatee?” Henry asks. 

“Oh, nothing Henry. I was just thinking out loud again. Could you stir me a martini, please?” 

“You know it Gretch.” 

“Miss Gretchen, please.” 

“Sorry. Yes, Miss Gretchen.” 

Gretchen watches his ass under his too-small robe as he ambles to the kitchen. Still plump, somehow. Must be the golf. She slips out of her matching red kitten heel slippers – with the poofs on top – and flexes her painted toes. Also red. Another night, another geriatric fuck. Thank god for that hip replacement 7 years ago. 

Henry pops his head out of the kitchenette, illuminated by overhead fluorescents: “Miss Gretchen, there’s something I should tell you. I — I went out on a whim tonight. I want you to know how much I’ve been enjoying our sex. I never imagined Crestmire would be so… exciting. So it’s not that I haven’t been having fun. Or that I don’t like, hem, doing, uh, having sexual intercourse with you.” He looks down at the martini shaker. Gretchen hasn’t seen a man blush this furiously since she asked an ex state senator to fuck her in the ass. 

“Henry, jesus, spit it out! What is it?” 

“I invited Monica over tonight too!” Henry blurted. 

“As in, you forgot I was coming?” Eyebrow raise.

“No I just thought… you’re such a wild woman Miss Gretchen… I thought you might be up for a threesome with Monica and I!” 

Monica was a long time resident of Crestmire, dating from her last bout of chemo a decade ago. She was around the same age as Gretchen but you wouldn’t know it. Gretchen kept her blonde hair curled, her nails done, her outfits coordinated. Her purse always matched her belt matched her shoes. She had even gotten the girls at the salon to do eyelash extensions a couple months ago. They were little geniuses, those salon girls. Nevermind her excellent facelift in 2003 that was still holding up. A present for her 69th birthday from Gregory. Thanks for everything, Gregory. 

Monica had long, grey hair, often braided down her back. She was prone to wearing screenprinted sweaters that featured her (dead) pets or (living but now adult) grandchildren. She crocheted – crocheted! – and she always ate the cafeteria food dutifully and never joined in for poker. Something about gambling being a tool of the devil. Like crocheting wasn’t. And now Henry was telling Gretchen that Monica wanted a threesome? 

“Does Monica… know I’m here?” Gretchen asked, cautiously. 

“Of course, Gretch – sorry, Miss Gretchen. Of course she knows. She’s really excited about this. Actually, it was her idea.”

Well, what the hell, thought Gretchen. I haven’t had a threesome in decades.  

[daydream-believin]

Never-Ending Roadtrip (Autumn in New York, pt 1)

Summary: (ch 1)  (ch 10) Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - chapter 9) new york tourism and some relaxation for a stressed-out emo wizard

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol mention, implied nudity (just a bath)

Word Count: 3542

A/n: Go listen to ‘autumn in new york’ by ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong to set the mood for this chapter and the next lol. i do like lovecore i promise. also this was going to be it but ive split it up. enjoy

Douxie was very careful to take inventory. One head, two head, dragon head, his own head. All accounted for. Four heads, no more no less. Not even a pesky stowaway gnome. His family was together. Up in the air, on the ship, winding blowing through their hair. Douxie could see sky scrapers on the horizon.

The trolls had been cordial in their goodbyes, but made no effort in giving the impression that they wanted the wizard family to stay any longer than they had. In fact, it was discouraged if not outright. The trolls almost gave off an aura of relief when they faded from view of the settlement. But that was understandable. Douxie’s family had caused a bit of trouble during their stay.

Bagdwella was certain that Archie was a bad omen for her shop and would freak out whenever he tried to enter. Y/n had been a bit confused and tried to explain to her that black cats were in fact supposed to bring wealth, not financial ruin, but apparently Bagdwella had been thinking of an old trollish superstition about dragons instead. Y/n had no counter to that.

Nari had no real knowledge of how money worked, and was determined to make that Douxie’s problem. And the problem of all the trolls in the shops of the town. There was a bit of a problem with her “dining and dashing” in the pub, the one troll eatery in the still developing town. Poor thing had no idea food costs money. Someone had always been around to feed her. Douxie and Y/n almost couldn’t keep up with the demand of sweaty socks they had to produce in order to pay the annoyed barman. Turns out it was somewhat hard to make sweaty socks when you’re actually trying to. It was like their feet realized what was happening and couldn’t pass up an attempt to make their owner’s lives harder.

As much as dear Y/n prided herself on being tolerant, she and Dictatious were going round and round. It was easier to ignore the guy when she didn’t have to live in close quarters with him but that luxury was lost on this stay in Trollmarket. Y/n and Dic argued every time they were in close proximity. She couldn’t help it. The old troll had opinions, and those opinions were wrong. And don’t even get Y/n started on how sad and then angry he made Blinky feel with the whole dead, wait not dead just an evil traitor, wait now he’s okay somewhat, thing. And his personality was shit. Peace was never an option.

Needless to say the trolls were in fact happy to send off the wizards. Douxie was happy to no longer suddenly hear a clatter and then instantly get a headache knowing it was probably one of his problems. They had only been in Trollmarket a few days. Okay so a week, they had stayed there a week. It was only seven days. Eight actually. So to say, they hadn’t been there long enough to cause any real problems. And now they were headed to New York. New York New York.

Douxie was ready to get some quality romance in with his wife. Autumn in New York was perfect for that. The city streets glowed with life. A nice stroll down the sidewalks painted in golden light, arm in arm, carrying the warmth in their hearts and bodies with them, was just what they needed. There were lots of sights to see, and Y/n loved to see them. And it was heavily populated, which would make it safer. Safe was something greatly needed.

For some reason, ever since that one night in the forest, Doux had felt like watching his back. It was tiresome, always being on edge. Of course, he had been this whole trip. But recently it had been amplified. Douxie didn’t know if he was sensing the Order’s presence or if being wed had turned up his protective instincts up to an eleven, but it really would be fantastic to be in a safer environment. He was crossing his fingers New York was one.

Just outside of city limits, the boat was shrunken into a little toy and placed back inside of it’s bottle. The little bottle fit neatly in the backpack that Y/n was wearing. Everything fit neatly into the backpack that Y/n was wearing. It was charmed. Doux would rather it be in hers than his, just as a peace of mind. A quick getaway for her lest they ever be separated. He wasn’t too worried about himself. Nari clung to her side, so it would also be best to keep it with her in order to protect Nari. Yeah, that was totally the reason.

They hailed a cabbie and took it into the bustling city. Douxie had pulled a couple strings with his old buddies, and managed to get them an apartment to stay in. The owner wouldn’t be back for a few weeks, and was happy to have someone to house sit for her. Douxie was happy to have a roof over his family’s head he didn’t have to pay for. It was a win-win.

Y/n never stopped looking out the window the entire cab ride. Douxie thought her excitement was adorable. She had her arm stretched over Nari in the middle to be able to hold his hand. The veggie lady didn’t mind. She was also focused on the view out the windows, fascinated by the sheer number of cars and the heights of the tall buildings. Douxie could feel Y/n’s wedding ring as she squeezed his hand. It helped calm him.

This apartment was owned by a starlet. It was huge, for New York standards. It was really high up, which made Douxie a wee bit nervous. Eleventh floor. It was eccentrically decorated, with bright colors. There was a wall in the living space that was a floor-to-ceiling window, covered by pale pink curtains and strings of heart-shaped beads. The other walls had a wallpaper that was white with red rose motifs. The couch was bright cherry red, furry, and oddly shaped. The kitchen cabinets were painted hot pink, with frosted glass doors that bore a rose pattern. The refrigerator was also cherry red, with white and pink heart-shaped stickers stuck onto it. Everything was fucking red, white, or pink. It looked like Saint Valentine himself threw up. Douxie was afraid to see what the bedroom looked like.

Douxie checked the fridge. Yeah, it was empty, apart from the box of takeaway from who knows when and the three bottles of wine. To be expected, of a single young up-and-comer, one supposes. They would have to go get groceries. Archie was making biscuits on the fluffy surface of the couch. It was probably very soft, Douxie had yet to touch it himself. He was kind of afraid of it, to be honest. Nari seemed to also like it, and was spread out on the top, limbs hanging over the back of the couch. Y/n opened the curtains a bit and was staring out the window. Doux headed for the bedroom, to go see what they were working with.

The bedroom was not in any way tamer than the open living space, but at least it wasn’t as bad as Douxie was expecting with the ah, love theme this place had going. It could have been worse. It was fluffy, pink, and glittery, but at least it was rated PG. Apart from the heart-shaped bed, it looked like it could have been a dressing room. There was a vanity with lights ringing the mirror and one of those dressing screens in the corner with several feather boas hanging over it like some kind of cliché movie set. Douxie was setting his backpack down, as he sat on the side of the bed turned away from the door, when he heard someone go into the en suite. And then he heard various noises of,, happy surprise? Sounded like Y/n.

“DEWDROP! THERES A HEART-SHAPED TUB. A FUCKING HEART-SHAPED TUB. COME LOOK.”

Bleeding balroths. Douxie rolled his eyes as he stood up from the comfy feather mattress to go see what she was shouting at him about. The tiles that covered the bathroom were annoyingly pink. The air smelled like something he could only describe as pink. Sure enough, there was a heart-shaped tub like someone’s cheesy honeymoon suite, and his wife was already in it, despite it not having any water. She wore an all too familiar cheshire cat grin on her face. He had one word for this.

“No.”

“Whatever.” Y/n stuck her tongue out childishly. “You’ll change your mind tonight. You will join me in the incredibly fragrant heart-shaped bubble bath, Dewdrop. Mark my words.”

~ ~ ~ As a first stop on the itinerary, they decided on Central park. Some greenery for Nari. And for Y/n too. Trees were good for the soul and one should never spend too much time on concrete. Gave Archie something to scratch that was not the couch that they did not own. It was fine when he did it in Arcadia, their sofa was old and tattered anyways, but not here in the apartment they were housesitting.

Y/n claimed the walk through nature was necessary to restore the energy lost on the trip into the city. The walkways were paved, and Douxie had to really keep an eye on both Nari and Y/n, who should know better, from wandering off the path. Maybe he should get two baby leashes when they were to shop later. Occasionally they would pass by a café. Douxie was glad he was not working in one of those. This trip was a much-needed vacation, as stressful as it was.

A little ways in and they came across a pond, with a cute little bridge that the walkway went under. Douxie rubbed his hand over the stones as they walked through. It was worn, as many hands had also done so over the decades. This bridge, as old as the park itself, was still younger than him. And it had met so many more people than he could even fathom. Doux himself had met so many people over the years. He had been touched by many too, like this little bridge. And just like the people who touched this bridge, none of them quite knew the impact they would be leaving. What they were wearing down. He heard a happy squeal as Y/n and Nari made a sudden sprint ahead of him. Apparently, there were ducks in this pond.

The Met was just a few minutes’ walk from where they exited the park. Douxie was happy with the idea of a quiet art museum trip, that sounded peaceful and relaxing. He needed all the peaceful and relaxing he could get right now. Y/n was actually really excited about this one despite it being not that exciting of an activity. She was trying to psych up Nari. “It’ll be fun, we can pretend we’re a gang of art thieves and we’re doing recon for a heist.” The veggie lady had no idea what any of those words meant.

There were lots of paintings in the Met gallery. It contained multitudes. One painting, they passed as they walked down the corridors, Y/n stopped, transfixed, stared at the painting for a few minutes, and then carried on like nothing happened. She didn’t look particularly sad, or happy, just confused, like she was processing something. Douxie made a mental note to ask her about it later.

Next stop was a walk down Fifth Avenue. It’s not like they could afford to shop, but it was a must-do in NYC so they must-did. They walked holding hands with Nari in the middle like their child. She liked looking in all the window displays. Every so often she would stop to stare and they would tug her along. The trees lining the sidewalks presented their autumn colors. The oranges and golds gave the streets a cheery vibe.

They passed a few food trucks. The trucks were filling the air with various delicious aromas. Douxie’s stomach growled loudly. Y/n giggled and suggested they pick a truck for lunch. Douxie had his eye on a fish and chips truck. It didn’t make ‘em quite like you could get in London but it was trying. A for effort. Y/n thought it was fantastic. Douxie was just spoiled.

They made their way over to the Rockefeller Center, just around the corner. A short walk and Y/n had spotted a coffee shop. So now they were going to a coffee shop. Douxie couldn’t help it, she looked at him with such big eyes. What was he supposed to do, say no?

The coffee shop was warm, and much appreciated relief from the autumn chill that had taken over. And a nice warm drink was sorely needed. Y/n found a nice couch in the back of the shop. Douxie sunk in, deeper than he expected to be able to sink in, but it was an old couch sunk into by many people. It was cozy. The love of thousands made it the sofa the way that it was. Love had made it squishy, love had made it comfy. Speaking of love and squishy and comfy, Doux pulled his dear wife Y/n to his side in an embrace. Low-key cuddling on the coffee shop couch was the best part of Douxie’s day. Nice, relaxing, he needed this. He pressed a kiss to the top of Y/n’s hair.

The Top of the Rock is an observatory deck in Rockefeller Center. Very high up in the air, one can see a great view of the city skyline and get a peek at that famous empire state building. Archie didn’t really care about it, he could get aerial sights any time he wanted, so he took this time to take a nap. Y/n leaned close to the glass, amazed and getting slightly wooed by the city. Douxie slung his arm around her, and, under the guise of affection, pulled her a few steps back. She really was hell-bent on stopping his fragile heart. And then Nari just straight up put her hands, paws, on the glass and put her body weight on the window. Nope. Douxie made sure to ask her to step away from the glass nicely, lest he frighten her, but still tried to convey that what she was doing was something he saw as dangerous and it worried him. Doux was very happy when they were back on the ground.

Douxie liked people watching. So did Y/n. It was one of the things the used to do on weekends in Arcadia, strangely enough. It wasn’t weird. All those people, they all had lives of their own. They all had stories they were living, and it was interesting to glimpse just a small insignificant piece of it. Or sometimes even significant. It was always hard to tell as an outsider, whether or not an ordinary moment was really the turning point of someone’s life. NYC’s famous Times Square was perfect for people watching.

There was something odd about it. The square itself felt wrong. A hundred neon advertisements all at one time. Not an inch of surface didn’t bare the name of a brand. There was something profoundly sad about it. One might even go as far as say disgusting. And there were many, many signs and people. Douxie tried not to attempt to take it all in at once, lest he risk sensory overload. The sun had already set, the brightly lit signs were brighter than ever. There were so many people around them. There were some buskers, some even playing at the same time, so the music clashed. Perhaps there was too much life here. It was loud, and Doux liked loud, but he liked harmonious loud, like music and excitement, not the chaotic loud that surrounded him. He made sure he could see Nari, that she was close to them. Douxie squeezed Y/n’s hand. He thought maybe he should just pay attention to her, tune out everything else. The lights made a brilliant halo around her gorgeous face as she turned to him. The beautiful goddess he called his wife’s eyes searched his, and she noticed he was not so comfy.

“C’mon, let’s go get some dinner.”

They walked away from the square for a few minutes, putting some distance between them and it’s light, before coming across a pizza place for dinner. It was good. The classic, New York slice. And it was pizza. Y/n would admit, it wasn’t special. She actually liked the pizza from the local pizza place in Arcadia Oaks way better. Douxie and Archie agreed with her. But don’t tell any New Yorker’s that. The main thing is that they got a nice dinner, and it helped Douxie calm down. There were only a few other people in the restaurant. The booth they were in was off to the side, away from everything. Y/n stroked Douxie’s palm with her thumb. Archie sat in his lap and purred. He appreciated them.

They’d had a long day. It was best to get home. Once opening up the cherry red door the valentine’s day décor assaulted their eyes once again. This would be okay for the time being but Douxie had no idea how someone could dwell here full time. As he plopped down on the furry couch, he noticed for the first time the numerous little cherub figurines that littered every available surface. It might be interesting to meet this starlet one day. She seemed to have a cupid schtick going. She probably looked the part too.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, Y/n had made a sneaky beeline for the bathroom and that honeymoon suite style tub. Douxie rolled his eyes fondly and scoffed from his place on the sofa when he heard the water turn on. Of course. He supposed he could use some extra relaxing. But she’d feel like she won. Y/n was gonna make a big deal out of this, he could feel it.

Miss starlet had an unhealthy amount of soap bottles filling the storage space in the bathroom. A dragon hoard of fancy scented soaps. As fun as pouring some various vividly colored, strong and flowery goops into the tub and pretending it was a potion would be, and it would be, Y/n opted to find some more calming aromas for poor Doux. Lavender, lemongrass, and jasmine, were what she was on the hunt for. She managed to find both lavender and jasmine soaps, and a lavender candle. No lemongrass. But Y/n wouldn’t have held her breath on that one. It wasn’t exactly glamorous or glittery.

With the water hot, bubbles high, candles lit, Y/n had crafted a very romantic and relaxing evening. She stood back to admire her work for a moment before going to go get Douxie. He was laying across the couch, using his crossed arms as a pillow, with Archie snoozing on his chest, when she found him.

“Sorry Arch. Find a different pillow for the night?” The dragon-cat understood. That didn’t stop him from throwing a look at the two as he settled back down into the couch’s fluff.

Ignoring Archie, Y/n took Douxie by the hand as she led him back into the room she had set up. The air smelled very strongly of lavender. The pink of the tiles was muted in the dim light, which Douxie was thankful for. Then he noticed the giant fucking mountain of bubbles Y/n had turned the bath into. He supposed she wanted him to get in that. Somehow. They’d have to be careful not to accidentally choke on any bubbles.

Douxie let out a little groan as he slid into the bath. The hot water felt great on his tense muscles, he had to admit. He was feeling better, and more relaxed. He certainly wasn’t anywhere near as stressed as he was in time square anymore, but the tension of this strange combination vacation/flee-for-their-lives-trip was taking its toll on the master wizard. He wouldn’t put it past his hair to start greying soon. A wizard was only ever as old as they felt, after all. And boy, did Douxie’s bones feel old. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. No worries right now. He was safe, Nari was safe, Archie was safe, Y/n was safe. Y/n was right beside him, so extra safe too.

“So, how’s it going.” Y/n laughed at Douxie getting a little lost in the hot water sauce.

“Nuclear.” Douxie opened his eyes to take in his wife’s pretty face he just knew was smiling, he could hear it in her voice. Doux pulled Y/n into his embrace and against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Thanks. I- I guess I sort of maybe needed this.”

Y/n snickered. “Of course you did. Remember, I’ll always be here to take care of you.” She brought his hand up and kissed his knuckles. “Always, Mr. Casperan.”

“And that goes the same for you, I’ll always take care of you, Mrs. Casperan.”

[primroseprime2019]

Ch.6

On the Nebulae of Sagittarius, a light red and orange planet slowly spun near Nebula's Veil. This planet was called Vathiri. The Transcendants were very skilled with their magic and were excellent scientists.

Most of them often wore lab coats out on the streets just for the heck of it. Other times, it was serious business.

In the middle of the town square, there was a fairly large apartment building. A fifteen year old boy was watching some kids play around. He had light peachy skin, deep grey eyes and light brown hair with dark brown strands. He wore a grey and black shirt and deep blue jeans, along with orange and white shoes.

"Hehe, come on Shiloh!" One of the kids- a girl- laughed, "it's no fun if you're not in the game with us!"

"Michelle, the last time you, Roger and Frank got me involved in a game, I almost fell into a mud pit," Shiloh said, glaring at the snickering Roger and Frank. The door creaked open and a young 10 year old nonbinary walked over to Shiloh and sat down beside him.

They had pale white skin, dark black hair and pale blue eyes. They wore a green and white long-sleeved shirt and grey leggings. They didn't have any shoes, only socks.

"Hello Jamie," Shiloh said, chuckling softly. Jamie was the only one who came to visit him and his mentor. While they weren't much of a talker, they knew sign language and did their best to teach Shiloh when he wasn't busy.

'Owen is looking for you,' Jamie signed. Shiloh's smile immediately fell and he let out an irritated sigh. He got to his feet, bent down and picked Jamie up into his arms.

He looked at Michelle, "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." "No promises," Frank said and Roger rolled his eyes. Shiloh fought the urge to literally snatch Frank by the ear and drag him to his room as he took Jamie inside and walked down the hallway.

The wallpaper was a little bit torn and the floorboards creaked every so often. The apartment building wasn't much but it was home. 'Guess another thing to add to the list of grievances,' Shiloh thought bitterly as he walked to a door that had the numbers 725. It was his and Owen's apartment.

He pushed the door open with his foot and walked into the room, closing the door behind him. "Owen!" He called out as he set Jamie down.

"In the kitchen, Shiloh!" Owen called back. "I thought we agreed not to do our experiments in the kitchen," Shiloh almost growled as he stomped over and stopped in the doorway.

"Oh come on, I haven't even done anything yet," Owen said with a small pout, "do you really trust me so little?"

"Remember that project you made last year? The one that- oh, I don't know- BLEW UP IN THE MIDDLE OF TOWN SQUARE?!" Shiloh yelled, making Owen flinch and Jamie covered their ears.

"Okay, I see your point," Owen grumbled as he rubbed his ear, "by Luna, was that necessary?" "If it reminds you of last year and gives you a warning, then yes," Shiloh said, making a beeline for the fridge.

Owen rolled his eyes. He and Shiloh didn't exactly see eye to eye oftentimes- which ended up with arguments until one of them stormed out to blow off steam- Owen being the only one to do just that. And there weren't many people living under or above them so they were pretty much free to do or say whatever came to mind.

"What do you want to eat?" Shiloh asked, making Owen look at him. "What are you gonna cook?" He asked.

Shiloh looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He closed the fridge, setting down the carton of eggs. "Eggs and waffles," he said.

"It's 9:30 pm. Isn't it a little early?" Owen asked incredulously and he looked to Jamie, "Jamie, back me up here!"

Jamie looked at him then at Shiloh before they looked away, turning their attention back to the tv. Owen grumbled as Shiloh chuckled at the nonbinary's so-called sense of humor.

"You still wanna eat or not?" Shiloh asked. "Sure," Owen said with a shrug as he went over to open a window. Shiloh glanced at the metal pieces and almost rolled his eyes. Although he had to admire Owen for his work, it could oftentimes go wrong and it would end up with trouble with the guards and the Council.

Shiloh sighed as he cracked the eggs and started mixing them up. He didn't know why but he thought the Vathiri council was just full of people who didn't know when to butt out of businesses. Some Vathirians thought it was a nuisance.

It was petty and impulsive. Shiloh closed his eyes as he shook his head to make the thoughts go away. His brother, Ronin, was a part of that Council until he left when Shiloh was younger.

No one knew where he went or why but it made one thing clear to Shiloh. He was never coming back.

Shiloh let out a bitter scoff as he readied the eggs. The memories were a little foggy. He closed his eyes tightly and he turned the stove off.

'No point in remembering them,' he thought bitterly as he made Owen and Jamie their plates, 'I've got new memories; and I don't need Ronin. I don't need him.'

He walked over to his roommates and gave them their plates. 'Thank you,' Jamie signed. Shiloh smiled at them and rubbed their head and he looked at Owen. "I'm gonna go out," he said.

"Alright. Be careful," Owen said. Shiloh only nodded as he put on his coat and he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Thunder rumbled. It was going to rain soon. Shiloh couldn't be more thankful. He was looking for an excuse to get out and away from the lab.

He glanced at the large silver and blue building, the large letters 'ACE LABS' being on the front of it. As if it wasn't so obvious. Ace Labs was the first to be rebuilt. The woman who had founded the very lab was supposedly long gone now and all of a sudden people were meant to carry out her legacy of experimentation with creating time traveling buttons.

Shiloh gritted his teeth and he stormed down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his pockets. He didn't want to be here. Not another day went by and he was still stuck on a planet that seemed hell-bent on creating things from metal.

He sighed as he stopped near an alleyway and pressed his hand against his face.

"That's amazing, Ronin!" Shiloh exclaimed happily as a thirty year old man held up a glowing blue metal orb. He had lighter tan skin, light orange and white hair and clear blue eyes. He wore a grayish-brown lab coat and he smiled softly at Shiloh as Trinity came over.

She had light tan skin, dark and light brown hair and deep brown eyes. They both wore glasses. "How are they, my dear?" Romin asked.

Shiloh paused. How could he forget? Trinity was pregnant with Ronin's children. They were happy. So why shouldn't he be happy for them?

Shiloh gritted his teeth. Hot white anger rushed through him and he whirled around and punched the wall. He barely flinched as he held his hand. His knuckles were bleeding, nothing broken surprisingly.

Tears began to form in his eyes and he sniffled as he leaned against the wall and slid down until his butt touched the ground.

He sniffled and pulled his legs to his chest and buried his face into his arms, his body wracking with silent sobs. Why did it hurt so much?

What was the point of being alive if all it did was leave you alone for the last two years?

Shiloh sniffled and he looked around for something. Anything to grab at. Suddenly something caught his attention. A noise. A shout.

"There's a fire!" A woman screamed. "The apartment!" A man yelled. Horror rushed through Shiloh like a knife had just stabbed him in the heart.

He scrambled to his feet and ran back to the apartment. The apartment building was on fire. Jamie wasn't there but Owen was.

Smoke drifted up into the air.

"OWEN!" Shiloh screamed in horror as he ran towards it. His lungs burned as he ran. "No wait!" Someone shouted at him, "LOOK OUT!"

There was a loud boom, signaling that the building was exploding and the force of the explosion sending Shiloh almost flying back. Something flew at him.

He froze and there was a shrill crack as something sharp and hot flew across his eye. "AAAAAAGGGGHHHH!" He screamed, falling to the ground and covering his left eye. He curled in on himself, screaming. It hurt. Goddamn, it hurt.

Blood pooled out underneath his head and face and he clutched at his face as he screamed and wailed. He was losing consciousness fast. Owen didn't make it out. He never came out of the building that was in flames. He was burnt to ash.

He was barely aware of medics running over to him.

Shiloh sobbed and screamed until he passed out, the physical, emotional and mental pain becoming too much. He welcomed the darkness like he should've done... so long ago.

[cinebration]

Cordial (Napoleon Solo x Reader) [Part 17]

The meeting.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Epilogue

Tagged: @ly--canthrope, @maan24, @eefjedegraaf, @omgkatinka, @tiffanypooh, @ramenyul, @crispysublimecupcake, @cavillhavoc, @martinafigoli​, @illbegoinhome

Warnings: none

Gif Source: cinemagal

The taxi pulled up in front of a modest home on the outskirts of the city. Solo stared at it for a long moment before letting his gaze sweep around the perimeter. The next house was a good distance away, lights burning in some of the upper windows.

Straightening his tie, Solo strode along the cobblestone drive up to the front door and rapped twice against it.

It opened a few moments later. Beyond it stood a middle-aged man wearing a soft, brown sweater and black slacks. A twinkle gleamed in his small, blue eyes, an amiable smile stretching across his creased features. Thinning hair swept back from his forehead, curling at the ends.

“Ah, Mr. Solo,” he declared in a vague accent Solo couldn’t identify. “You’ve finally arrived. Please, come in. Wipe your feet on the mat, please.”

Eyebrows arching, Solo stepped into the foyer and wiped his feet primly on the mat just inside the doorway, taking his time to quickly intake his surroundings.

Warm lighting lit the interior of the house—the ground floor, at least. A staircase left of the entryway rose to the second floor. A carpet runner ran directly down the length of the foyer into what Solo guessed would be a dining room and, further on, a kitchen.

“The others are in the dining room,” the man said, shutting the door quietly as Solo stepped into the foyer proper. He strode past Solo, waving for him to follow.

Solo eyed the photographs lining the wallpapered walls. As he passed each on, he felt a growing sense of unease slither within him until he realized the photos seemed staged, generic. The same could be said of the house’s decor and color scheme, as though it were a showpiece for a realtor rather than an actual lived-in abode.

The man turned left through an open doorway. Solo stepped through.

Seated at the modestly sized table, you, Kuryakin, and Gaby glanced at him, affecting the requisite attitudes of their characters. Gaby arched her eyebrows in surprise, while Kuryakin frowned, slipping into a glower, and you feigned wariness.

Solo took the seat beside you and smiled thinly at everyone.

The table, he noted, was bare, not even graced with a runner or centerpiece. No smells wafted from the nearby kitchen.

“I didn’t expect to meet in a house,” he said. “We were also meeting tomorrow.”

The man seated himself at the head of the table, the faint smile on his face seeming to say, “Typical American: Always to the point.” Beside his right hand, he set a box the same size and shape as a cigar box.

“I’d also like to know your name,” Solo added.

“You can call me Venditor,” the man replied. “For all intents and purposes, that is all I am to you.”

Solo glanced aside at you. Your lips twitched as you stared at the man. The reaction sent more unease crawling down Solo’s spine. Something was off, and he couldn’t decide what.

“I apologize for the last-minute alteration in plans,” the man continued, “but it was necessary, as I need to move this product sooner than expected.”

“Why?” Gaby asked.

“I do not like to keep my hands dirty for too long. It attracts the authorities, the smell. Suffice it to say that I needed to move the process along.”

“Then begin,” Kuryakin ordered.

The man laughed. “You and Mr. Solo’s countries may be at war, Mr. Turgenev, but you both are more similar than you believe. Direct and to the point.”

“I do not like having my time wasted,” Kuryakin snapped.

“I concur with the commie.” Solo shifted in his seat to address the man. “I’ve come with the largest bid, so you might end the meeting now and let the rest be disappointed.”

Solo felt your hand wrap around his lower thigh and squeeze. Surprised, he leaned back in his seat, the unease warring with the tingles shooting up into his pelvis. Your hand retreated.

“I hope,” you said, your voice heavy with a Cuban accent, “you won’t take Mr. Solo’s offer. He will only sell it at a higher price to one of us.”

“Yes,” Gaby said, picking up the lead. “You’ll be missing out on all that money.”

Kuryakin snorted. “I have the higher bid, I guarantee it.”

The man’s eyes slid to something at the far corner of the room: a grandfather clock. “Yes, well, I suppose we should begin.”

Centering the cigar box before him, Venditor opened the lid and pulled out four blank cards. He dealt them around the table, followed by four fountain pens.

He gestured at the cards. “Your bids.”

Solo scribbled down the number he had memorized from his file. Flipping the card facedown, he slid it back over to the man. You and the others did the same.

The man flipped them over in his hands, read the numbers, and pursued his lips. Discarding two, he glanced at you and Gaby. “Ladies, I’m afraid you’re nowhere close. If you would please return to the foyer…”

Alarm coursed through Solo as you rose from the table and followed Gaby out through the door.

“Gentlemen, both your bids are competing. If you’ll return tomorrow morning with your final bids, we can settle the matter.” The man smiled warmly. “You may leave now.”

He stayed seated at the table. Solo walked slowly around him and through the doorway, shooting Kuryakin a frown. The Russian matched it with one of his own.

Solo found you and Gaby standing close together near the front door. As soon as he approached, you whispered, “That man isn’t planning on selling to us. He’s got someone else in mind.”

“Are you sure?” Gaby asked.

“Yes. He was just stringing us along.”

“Why would he do this?” Kuryakin asked.

You and Solo spoke at the same time. “To get us all in the same room.”

A pop and hissing sound echoed behind Solo. Spinning sharply, he saw a small canister on the floor spewing a noxious white cloud into the air. A second canister bounced down the stairs.

“Don’t breathe it,” Solo cried. Clapping a hand over his mouth and nose, he made for the door.

The handle didn’t turn.

Solo turned on his heel to see Kuryakin swaying on his feet, having been closest to the first canister. Solo’s eyes stung as the gas reached him, his vision wavering. You staggered against him, reaching out desperately. He tried to hold you up.

You slumped at his feet. He followed you down.

The world tipped into darkness.

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 9)

Chapter 9

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,620

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

            The warm weather was fleeting; Catalina spent her days studying, working, and every chance she got, hanging out with her friends. The “baseball encounter”, as she’s been calling it, has been living in the back of her mind ever since, even though it seemed her friends had forgotten about it. She never brought it up, just focusing on her college life. Namjoon took her out to fancy bookstores and coffee shops, Jungkook tried and failed to teach her how to skateboard, and Jin tried and failed to help them in French. She was kept busy and she was having fun.

               All was peaceful, until a college student was reported missing in St. Briggs. Jimin cornered Catalina in dance class about it one chilly, early winter day.

               They were practicing their dance to “Body”, by Megan Thee Stallion.

               “One, two, three, turn, five, six, step and hit,” the teacher called out. “One, two, ba, ba, jump, Steve! What song are you dancing to, ‘cause it’s not this! Find the goddamn beat! Alright, everyone except Steve, take five.”

               Catalina’s final move in the dance was on the ground, so instead of getting up, she crawled over to her dance bag and pulled out her water bottle, collapsing against the wall. Jimin joined her and said, “Have you heard the news?”

               Catalina shook her head between sips.

               “A student went missing,” he said. “In St. Briggs. From our college.”

               “Aren’t they the second person to go missing here?” Catalina asked. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

               “Yeah, me neither,” said Jimin. “The first person was a little kid. My parents are freaking out about me walking to campus now.”

               “And the police have no idea who the guy is?” asked Catalina. “I mean, they don’t know anything?”

               “Not really,” said Jimin. “It’s like these people disappeared without a trace.”

               “Hm,” Catalina thought about the disappearances and the mysterious “baseball encounter”. She wondered if they were connected. “You wanna do some investigating?”

               “What are you-no, we’re not visiting those vampires,” said Jimin. “That’s a really bad idea. Namjoon told us to stay out of it and he definitely knows more about this stuff than we do.”

               Catalina knew she wouldn’t get anywhere with Jimin. She would just have to wait until she saw Jungkook to bring it up again. She knew he’d have no qualms about going on a potentially life-threatening mission.

Her chance came that weekend when she and Jungkook worked their shift together at the souvenir shop. Business was starting to pick up since the first snow was expected to arrive any day now.

Tourists started stopping by more and more and Catalina got to see what Jungkook meant by “hot tourists”. The men and the women were beautiful, and her and Jungkook both had fun checking them out from behind the counter. But today was slow, so Catalina figured she’d take the opportunity to tell him about her plan.  

               “Jungkook, what do you think about stealing that business card and sneaking around a potential lair?” asked Catalina.

               “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but yes. I’m in,” he said. The two of them were straightening the ceramic bear and eagle figurines, killing time between customers.

               “Remember those three vampires on baseball day?”

               “Uh-huh.”

               “The guy gave Namjoon a business card,” said Catalina.

               “Oh right! Yeah, I remember,” said Jungkook.

               “I was thinking maybe we could steal it and do our own investigating. I mean, what if those guys have something to do with the missing people?” Catalina said. Jungkook looked up at her with wide eyes.

               “Oh shit! Ya know, you’re probably right!” he said. “They just moved here, and then all of a sudden, a kid goes missing in this town. It makes sense.”

               “Exactly,” said Catalina.

               “But how will we get the business card?” asked Jungkook. “Do we sneak into his room or his office or whatever?”

               “That’s what I was thinking. One of us distracts him, while the other sneaks in and finds it,” said Catalina.

               “I feel like you should distract him. A classic honey pot mission,” said Jungkook.

               “Do you know what that means?” Catalina asked, snickering.

               “Don’t you seduce someone to complete a mission?” asked Jungkook.

               “You usually have to fuck someone in a honey pot mission,” said Catalina.

               “Oh, well, how bad can it be? I mean, he’s hot as fuck,” he said with a wave of his hand. Catalina’s face turned bright red.

               “I’m not- we’re…” she sighed. “Jungkook, casual sex isn’t really my thing and I don’t like him that way. I don’t think he likes me that way either.”

               “Are you kidding? What about all those bookstores and coffee shops? Those weren’t dates?” asked Jungkook. “What were you guys doing?”

               “Looking at books!” said Catalina. “He just really likes literature, and I really like coffee.”

               “Did he pay for your coffee every time?”

               “Yes.”

               “Then that’s a date,” said Jungkook.

               “We spot each other all the time. So, are you telling me it’s a date when you pay for my McDonalds or when I pay for your movie ticket?” asked Catalina.

               “That’s different,” said Jungkook. Catalina threw her hands up.

               “Okay, we’re getting off topic,” she said. “You distract him, I’ll get the card.”

               “Casual sex also isn’t my thing though,” said Jungkook.

               Catalina threw her head back laughing. “You don’t have to fuck him! Just keep him downstairs talking or something.”

               “I can do that. Are we doing it tonight?” asked Jungkook.

               “Sure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

               That evening, Catalina and Jungkook went to the mansion. Jungkook brought his French homework. Luckily, Namjoon was the one to answer the door.

               “Oh, hey guys! Come on in,” he said. He led them to the lounge and Jungkook immediately got his homework out.

               “I was wondering if you could help me with this,” said Jungkook.

               “Sure, let’s see,” said Namjoon. Catalina wandered off. The upstairs was thankfully not as big as the main floor, but there were many halls and many rooms. Catalina went to Hoseok’s room, starting her search from there. The next door in the hallway was open. Catalina looked inside, flicking on the light switch. It looked like a basic, model bedroom. It didn’t look like it belonged to anyone, probably a guest room. The next room was enormous and absolutely trashed. The giant bed in the middle of the room had a mountain of blankets and clothes on it. Clothes, loose papers, and books littered the floor. Beat up, crooked antique paintings decorated the walls, along with torn calligraphy banners. The Asian style furniture looked ancient, worn and battered, but luxuriously wealthy.

               Catalina moved on to the next room. This one was a bit more modern and, curiously, vaguely nautical themed. A huge window against the back wall let light shine in on the white painted wood of the furniture, the mess of easels and canvases in the corner, and the mix of paintings on the seashell wallpapered walls: realism, abstract, cubism, a few charcoal sketches of Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon, and a single painting of a lighthouse looking out at a stormy sea. Catalina went to the next room.

               This one was the most modern, with dark walls and mahogany furniture. It was sleek and rustic, with a twisted wood bed frame, alpaca rugs on the ground, smooth couches in the corner with a driftwood coffee table in the center, and along every free wall, bookshelves. The entire room was spotless. This must be Namjoon’s room. At least, Catalina hoped it was. She stepped inside and went to the desk tucked into one of the bookshelves. She rifled through the drawers until she found one filled with business cards.

               “Shit,” she whispered. There were quite a few cards, but she got to work sorting through them. Most of them looked old and yellowed with age. She automatically set those ones aside. She couldn’t remember that vampire’s name, but she knew she’d remember it if she saw it. After sorting through what felt like hundreds of cards, she finally found one with the familiar name on it.

               It was a new card, simple, with just a name, an address, and a phone number on it. The name on it was Makai La’ei. That sounded right. Catalina rearranged the rest of the cards back to how she found them and shoved this one in her pocket. She was definitely running out of time, Jungkook only had so much homework.

               When she got downstairs, she went right to the lounge, but it was empty. Jungkook’s French textbook was laying open on the coffee table. Her heart skipped a beat. Namjoon wouldn’t hurt him, would he? She thought. She backed out of the lounge and looked up and down the hallway. Her heart was pounding, but before her thoughts could fully run away on her, she heard Jungkook’s voice approaching, saying, “And that’s how I went to senior prom with Dr. Dre’s daughter, Truly.”

Namjoon and Jungkook rounded the corner, both holding McDonalds bags and hot coffees in their hands.

“You guys went out?” Catalina asked.

               “Yeah, we got hash browns,” said Namjoon, handing one of the bags to her.

               “Isn’t this yours?” asked Catalina.

               “Grease gives me a stomachache,” he said.

               “I was just craving hash browns. I figured you’d want a few too,” said Jungkook. Catalina’s heart skipped a beat, but this time not out of fear.

               “I love these,” she whispered, opening the greasy paper bag to see three hash browns inside. Something nudged her hand. She looked up to see Jungkook handing her his coffee as well. Namjoon wandered off, sipping at his own coffee. “What are you doing?”

               “I don’t like coffee,” he said. “Take it.”

               “Thank you,” she said. “Did you already finish your homework?”

               “Yeah, turns out Namjoon is fluent in French,” said Jungkook. “And Korean, and Chinese, and Japanese, and German. And…what was that other one?”

               “Swahili,” Namjoon said from inside the lounge.

               “Why?” asked Catalina.

               “I was bored,” he said with a shrug. Jungkook looked at Catalina with questioning eyes. Catalina nodded.

               “Well, thank you for helping me with this,” said Jungkook, gathering his textbook and notes. “I hate this class, so any help is much appreciated. Anyway, we have to get going. We have some errands to run.”

               “Sure, no problem,” said Namjoon as he walked them to the door. “We’re all fluent in French here, expect for Hoseok, so feel free to ask any of us any time.”

               “Thank you,” Catalina said as she pulled her shoes on.

~~~~~~~~~~

               “That was too easy,” said Jungkook as they were getting into his car.

               “Not really!” said Catalina. “He had a whole drawer full of business cards. I had to sort through all of them.”

               “I was talking about the homework,” said Jungkook. He pulled out of the driveway and began the drive down the mountain. “He gave me all the answers. But that explains why you were gone for so long.”

               “Yeah, and I saw the other rooms,” said Catalina. “I think Tae’s room is nautical themed.”

               “Why?” Jungkook asked. Catalina shrugged. “Well, whatever. Does that card have an address on it?”

               “Yeah,” Catalina pulled the card out of her pocket and typed the address into her maps app. It gave her a route to a location in the middle of the town. She let Siri lead them as she plugged in her phone and looked up spy music on iTunes. She found a playlist and put it on shuffle, letting the groovy guitar of “Secret Agent Man” blast through the car.

               By the time they arrived, they were well into “Hawaii Five-O”. The GPS had led them to what looked like an abandoned hospital. Jungkook drove a block past it so they could walk the rest of the way. As they walked, they reviewed the plan.

               “So, we can’t get caught, obviously,” said Jungkook. “We’re just sneaking in, taking a quick look, maybe some pictures, then getting out.”

               “Right,” said Catalina. “Quick and fast.”

They snuck in and found a basement stairwell, which they took. The rest of the hospital was empty. They could hear voices coming from the basement, so as quietly as they could, they snuck down the stairs, which led them to a cement tunnel with a metal grated floor. The tunnel gave Catalina a sense of Déjà vu, but she couldn’t figure out why. Faint voices echoed from the end of the tunnel. They reached the end and peaked around the corner. What they saw made their jaws drop. A huge, cavernous cement room with some furniture in the middle. Doors lined the walls, some open, some closed. Catalina could see from where she was that there were people in the rooms with open doors. People sitting or laying on the ground, tubes attached to their arms connecting to IV stands, blood bags hanging from the hooks.

Jungkook was snapping rapid fire pictures of as much of the room as they could see.

The voices, which were coming from a part of the room they couldn’t see, stopped talking.

“Bernard, go check the tunnel and stairs. I thought I heard something.”

Before Bernard even had a chance to move, Catalina and Jungkook booked it back down the tunnel and up the stairs. Jungkook led the way, and he was fast, so Catalina struggled to keep up with him. Once they were at the top of the stairs, they looked around for an open room. A bit down the hall, there was an open doorframe with a missing door. They darted for it, Jungkook pulling her inside and crowding her against the wall, hidden in the shadows.

Catalina was scared they’d be caught, but now she freaking out about something entirely different, namely, Jungkook’s chest and arms caging her against the wall. He was so close that Catalina could feel the heat coming off him. Her blush made its way down her neck into her chest, her breath quickening.

“He’s coming,” Jungkook whispered, his wide eyes glued to the doorway. Sure enough, Catalina could hear heavy boots crunching through the debris in the hallway, getting closer to where they were. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” Catalina asked.

“Do you trust me?” Jungkook asked again. “I saw this in a TV show. It works every time.”

Before Catalina could ask for clarification, several things happened at once: the man, presumably Bernard, began entering the room, Jungkook pressed even closer, a hand on her waist, the other finding its way to her hair, and his lips crashed against hers. She let out a squeak of surprise but quickly caught on, gripping his shirt and leaning into the kiss.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” a man’s voice said from the doorway. They broke apart and looked at him. “This is private property, guys. Get lost.”

“Sorry,” Jungkook said, flashing a sheepish smile. Bernard stepped aside to let them past, waving them in the direction of the exit. Even though her heart was still pounding out of her chest and her head was still spinning, Catalina made a point to check Bernard’s eyes. They were red.

On their way out, they heard the crackle of a walkie talkie and Bernard saying, “It was just some kids making out upstairs. This happens way too often, boss. We gotta start putting signs up or something.”

On their way to the car, Jungkook said, “That was a close one.”

“Was that just an excuse to kiss me?” Catalina joked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Jungkook said with a wink. Catalina blushed and shoved him.

“Shut up,” she said.

.

.